#AND HAD TWO SEPARATE PEOPLE TELL ME TO FORGIVE MY MOTHER

[icannotgetoverbirds]

fun fact! did you know that reddit reading comprehension is at least almost as abysmal as tumblr reading comprehension? they aren't any better than us!

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟓   ❛ 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 ❜   |   NAKAWE SACRARIUM, DEC. 1990

❧  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

❛ It seemed easier to worry about the responsibility. Arnaut’s life as crown prince had not formally begun, and it wouldn’t until the mourning period ended. Yet, he grasped its weight as soon as Safya’s body was sealed away. He wanted to be crushed by it, with hope that it would somehow distract from the fraternal pain of loss. He had learned alongside Safya out of obligation but absorbed only a fraction of what she did. There was disinterest and laziness. There was also the inability to imagine a world where he needed to do her job. She would never need him to take meetings or parse policy for her. His flimsy mastery of statecraft, his failure to remember details, his penchant for wandering into mischief … It was all unimportant. What she needed was someone who understood. In public, Safya maintained a brave face. She weathered criticism well, whether from the media or her mother. Their relationship was where she exhaled. Even once an ocean separated them, Arnaut knew it was his responsibility to give her that. He remembered quickly, almost immediately, that his inheritance was inseparable from her absence—that what he had given Safya died with her and that he would be, for the first time, alone.

❧ thank you @/trentonsimblr and @/ardeney-sims for letting blanca visit your countries askdfj anyway, i've been excited about this scene ... what do they say? hurt people hurt people? yeah. also everyone is contractually obligated to ignore the lil mistake that i did not notice until everything was done and queued djdhfj

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

[B] I have a show in Aducia in two months, then onto Trenton.

[A] You’re joking. [B] Why would I be? [A] It doesn’t make sense.

[A] How can you just leave us? [B] Did you think I was staying? Come on. [A] Running away, now of all times?

[B] Don’t you dare. Your responsibility is your problem, not mine.

[A] It’s a family problem, Blanca. Extraordinary. Everyone has to change. You’re still part of the family, aren’t you? [B] That’s not fair. You don’t get to lecture—

[A] I do! The family needs you, and you’re never here. It’s time.

[A] Mama may let you come and go, but that doesn’t mean it’s right. You have to know that.

[B] You weren’t here either. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel guilty. [A] It’s not the same. It wasn’t a choice the way— [B] It is. We both made choices, and I won’t feel bad about any of mine just because you have regrets now. [A] No, I don’t— [B] Why argue, then? You didn’t want this. I know you didn’t! You’re not ready for it. Everyone knows. The whole country knows. They’re more forgiving of walking away than getting sent off.

[A] Stop. It’s that … Look, I need you. That’s it. [B] This is how you show it? Persuasive.

[A] She’s gone, and no one can replace her, but … If I have to be here instead, then I need someone who gets it—gets me. [B] Papa? Martin, Sebastian— [A] Seriously? You’re the spare now, Blanca. You should be.

[A] But, you run away from anything difficult. You ran away from your own children—! Safya’s gone … I have to do her work, so I guess they’ll be my responsibility, too. Consequences you leave for other people to clean up are still consequences. They catch up to you eventually.

[A] I shouldn’t have said that. [B] You made your point. [A] I’m sorry.

[A] Blanca …

[B] Let me go. You’re being cruel, and I know you aren’t cruel, so I’m going to forget we had this conversation. You should, too.

[spooky-boi-writes]

Ao3

“Stop!” Nico shouted, fending Eros off with his bare hands. He sobbed, tears falling to his shirt and arms flailing in panic.

“Face yourself, Nico di Angelo.” The god’s lips sneered at the boy, the blood red shade in stark contrast with the perfect white of his teeth. His golden hair partially covered his bright blue eyes and his beautiful wings fluttered in the wind. If Nico wasn’t being traumatized in the moment, he would have taken a moment to stare in awe of the godly beauty in front of him.

He writhed and scratched and tried his hardest to separate himself from the being. “Please! Please…” his words came out in soft whimpers, exhaustion enveloping his limbs. He felt choked. He felt like the entire world was wrapping a chain around his throat and dangling off of it just to hold him down. The feeling of blood on his hands was vivid except he couldn’t see any.

“You cannot hide.”

“I know! I know I know I know- I tried- I’m still trying- just please-“ he screamed. He yelled and scratched his throat until he was horse and then he kept screeching. He screamed at his grandfather and the boy who wouldn’t hang out with him once he called Ares cute and he screamed at the girls who wouldn’t let him play dolls with them on the playground when he was seven. He screamed for Bianca- for her having to protect him- and for his mother who couldn’t and wouldn’t and for her putting it on Bianca. He screamed at the priest who threw him out of the church for what he said in the confessional.

“I’m sorry! I’m fucking sorry- just- please! Let me go. Please.” He tried to wipe his face on his shoulder but was too constrained by Cupid. “Please. I’ll feel however you tell me to. Please.”

The voice boomed.

“Wake up.”

Nico’s eyes were wide open and sheets were trapping him where he lay. Each movement he made felt both distant and hyper-real. Tears sprung to his eyes as he straightened himself up, tearing his blankets and fleeing from his bed. His cabin was dark, lit with nothing but a small sun nightlight Percy had given him. “Thought that since you couldn’t stop staring at Will, that light would help you make it through the night.” He had said, a teasing glint in his eye. Nico rolled his eyes and nudged Percy away. He was used to teasing. He didn’t like it.

He took a deep breath, then another, then sobbed before he could complete his third. He shook, his vision was blurry, and suddenly his usually comfortable cabin became cruel and claustrophobic. The photos that Will had hug up of people Nico should consider friends peered at him demeaningly. As quick as his legs would take him, Nico sprung from his cabin to the middle of camp.

The cool breeze helped him calm his hyperventilating. Above him the stars shone beautifully, but he couldn’t see. His tunnel vision took him to the top of half blood hill. In the tree Festus was resting, and by it the Athena Parthenos looked down on him. His breath caught in his throat and he used their combined shadow to travel to the nearest church.

Our Lady of Victory.

The church towered over him. The mighty and tall doors were locked. He was not welcome here.

He shadow traveled just inside the door.

He exited the narthex, stepping through brown doors and walking along the long isles of pews. At first his steps were slow, cautious, quiet. Then he began to sprint. He didn’t stop until he reached the altar.

He fell onto his knees, hands planting onto the glossy floor.

“F-forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been two years since my last confession.” Two years since he found himself on this same floor, bargaining with himself that if he apologized it’d feel less like God hated him. He thought that if he was sorry enough he’d get dinner that night, or a shelter better than the night sky, because that God is a great and merciful god. If he asked for help, and believed, and loved, and feared correctly, he would stop living through hell. He thought if he apologized enough he’d stop loving the way he did.

“I- I have sinned against you Lord, and openly. I have told my friends how I feel and pretended I had pride in offending you. I have acted like I like who I am so they don’t try to fix me.” Tears fell onto the steps in front of him. “I need fixing, Father.”

He paused, trying to chase away black spots in his vision. He sat on his feet, still kneeling, and looked at the sculpting on the altar.

“For-forgive me, for I have lusted, and wanted to defile and sodomize the body you created.”

He had never lusted. It wasn’t true. In his gut he knew it wasn’t. Every time a thought like that entered his mind he had bashed his hands against his skull until it was gone. He went as long as he could without eating to train himself out of it. He wouldn’t let himself look at Will, or even Percy, for days because he knew even the purest thoughts were sins against the almighty. The everloving.

For a moment Will's blonde hair and blue eyes flashed through his mind. In Nico’s brain was the toothy grin and sarcastic personality of the first boy who made him feel human. A scream rang through the church. Statues shook. So did Nico.

Blood fell from crescent shaped wounds in his arms and palms but he couldn’t notice. He felt the eyes of God. He knew he could never be forgiven because he knew he couldn’t stop how he felt.

“Forgive me for these sins and those I have forgotten, for they still affected you, Lord.” A deep breath. “Mio Dio, mi pento e mi dolgo con tutto il cuore dei miei peccati…”

~~~~~

He opened his eyes in his cabin, woozy from the shadows grasping into his skin.

He crawled into his private shower, pajamas still clinging to his body in sweat. He turned it on, cold, and rested against the wall as water splashed harshly down. Slowly he felt the agonies melt away, his clothes heavy with water and his hair dangling in his face. Soon he turned the handle and exited, sliding onto the normal tile floor. As he rose he dropped the heavy clothes and grabbed a towel, drying himself and his hair as he went towards his dresser. He pulls on the new pajamas and lays back down. He didn't sleep at all that night.

He rested his head on his palm, zoning out whatever macho conversation Percy and Jason were having. Nico hadn’t looked at Percy once. But, then again, that’s kind of normal for him, because he can’t stand looking people in the eyes. Will keeps saying he’s autistic. Nico still doesn’t know what that means. All that Jason got was a vague look in his direction before Nico became enamored with his eggs. He squished them with his fork enough to look like he’d at least tried to eat before setting his fork down and hiding his face in his hands. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand rested on his shoulder.

“Jesus! Warn a guy next time, Solace!” He was shaking more than he usually did. They both knew it.

Will swung a leg over the bench next to Nico, straddling the wood. “Sorry Neeks. Can you handle touch right now?” Ever patient Will. Will whose dad had a child with a man. Everloving Will.

“Not right now, please.” Nico still didn’t look at Will. He hid his shut eyes behind his overgrown fringe.

“All good, I apologize for not asking first. Wanna help out in the infirmary?” Even though he was yet to look in his general direction, Nico could feel Will’s smile. “I need your bandage cutting talents to make it through my day.”

“Yeah, sure.” Nico began to stand.

“You can finish your food first, I’m just running over now and wanted to ask.”

“I’m done.” Will looked at Nico’s plate and hesitated.

“You sure, Neeks?” Will could clearly see through the (frankly, bad) facade.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

The two rose and headed off.

~~~~~

Will asked if he was okay four separate times during his infirmary shift. Nico said yes every time. Eventually, he was even able to look towards Will when he said it. It hurt every time he denied anything being wrong, but he couldn’t confide in anyone. He didn’t know how to start. He couldn’t bring Will into his sin.

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Do you think petunia dursley deserve redemption?

Now a days many people say she was manipulated by Vernon or James insulted her( she saw james in harry) and they try to excuse her actions because she was woman.

After the war Petunia will divorce Vernon and harry will forgive her. They even say Petunia secretly always cared about Harry.

Please share your thoughts(only if you have time/want to ofcourse)

Thank you

I think young Petunia is a character it's easy to feel compassion for.

I can't really blame her for not wanting Lily around or not wanting anything to do with magic.

As a child, she is quite close to her younger sister and she has to witness that younger sister all of a sudden going on an adventure without her because her sister has magic and Petunia doesn't.

I dare anyone to not feel resentful and envious in that situation.

And the fact that she is the older sister makes it worse because when Lily goes to Hogwarts they are still in that age where the younger sibling tends to admire and still wants to follow the older and out of the blue that dynamic radically changes.

When in DH we find out that Petunia sent a letter to Dumbledore asking to go to Hogwarts, my heart absolutely breaks for her every single time I re-read it.

And then when Lily enters the wizarding world, Petunia is left to her normal life, which is probably not that great. The Evanses aren't poor but they are definitely not rich. And she is still very much a girl in the 70s, not as bad as the 30s but not as good as today. All of this is to say that she is not left in a situation of privilege and luxury and therefore has nothing to complain about.

Petunia is also left to deal with lying to protect Lily's secret, probably having to say something about how she was sent to some special school for very talented kids, therefore having to make herself appear as the stupid sister. And so everyone would be super curious about this brilliant sister of Petunia, forcing her to live in Lily's shadow even outside of the house and with Lily in Scotland. It's also implied that Lily is the beautiful sister, which I'm sure doesn't help Petunia's resentment. It writes itself a scene from a summer in 1976, where Petunia's friends are eager to meet/see again her beautiful brilliant sister, and Petunia dies of envy.

It's true that Lily enters a world in which as a muggle-born she is subjected to discrimination but I doubt Petunia knew much about it:

Even though Petunia was raised alongside a witch, she is remarkably ignorant about magic. - from Vernon and Petunia Dursley by JK Rowling

Then Lily ends up marrying James Potter, rich, athletic, and good-looking. While Petunia marries Vernon. Tell me you wouldn't hate Lily even more. Lily marrying a wizard so soon after Hogwarts also adds to the separation of the two sisters into two different worlds. Other factors are the war in the wizarding world and the death of their parents.

And speaking of the devil, Petunia seems also resentful towards her parents for showing, according to her, a preference for Lily:

I was the only one who saw her for what she was -- a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!" She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years. -Chapter 4, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, JK Rowing

If you notice, Harry doesn't know anything about Mr and Mrs Evans, one thing is him not knowing about the Potters but if Harry doesn't know anything about the Evans grandparents, it means Dudley doesn't either, it means Petunia doesn't talk about them, doesn't have photos of them. Frankly, seeing the relationship between the two sisters, the Envases mustn't have been geniuses at the whole parenting thing.

And for all of this, again, I can't blame her for hating magic, especially when you consider that the first and one of the only experiences with wizards she has is Snape [how hilarious it is that those two know each other?], someone that hates muggles and literally made a tree branch fall on her. Then there's the sister that seems to live to outshine her and Dumbledore who tells her she is not special (not in those terms obviously, he is quite kind actually, but how is a young girl going to perceive that letter if not like that?). By the time she meets James, she already hates magic too deeply.

This Petunia is someone that makes you wish life had been a little kinder to her, and maybe then she could have been better.

But the Petunia since she takes Harry in? She is a monster. What she does to Harry should have put her in jail, and there's no indication that it's Vernon who forces her to behave like that. Like there's no indication that Vernon and Petunia don't love each other. If anything, the fact that Vernon agrees to have Harry in the house despite hating him seems a testament to how much he loves Petunia.

Harry does seem to hate Vernon in particular but the more fitting explanation seems to be that Vernon is a man and therefore more intimidating.

As wrong as it would have been, I could have even forgiven Petunia if she had just been a little colder towards Harry and shown a preference for Dudley. She is substantially forced to take this boy into her house, a boy who has a genocidal maniac after him and therefore potentially puts in danger her, her husband and her son, and she is also forced to see the dynamic that brought so much pain to her repeat again. Dudley is Petunia, and Harry is Lily. Dudley is a muggle, and Harry is a wizard. It's pretty reasonable for her to hate the idea that one day her son will feel like she did. Maybe she was even planning to not have more than one child just to avoid that. Petunia hates Harry because she sees Lily in him, not James. James canonically never insulted Petunia, the only reasons Petunia has for hating him are that he is a wizard and Lily's husband. At best she may have reason to not find him particularly likeable:

The first meeting between Lily, her boyfriend James Potter, and the engaged couple, went badly, and the relationship nose-dived from there. James was amused by Vernon, and made the mistake of showing it. Vernon tried to patronise James, asking what car he drove. James described his racing broom. Vernon supposed out loud that wizards had to live on unemployment benefit. James explained about Gringotts, and the fortune his parents had saved there, in solid gold. Vernon could not tell whether he was being made fun of or not, and grew angry. The evening ended with Vernon and Petunia storming out of the restaurant, while Lily burst into tears and James (a little ashamed of himself) promised to make things up with Vernon at the earliest opportunity. This never happened. Petunia did not want Lily as a bridesmaid, because she was tired of being overshadowed; Lily was hurt. Vernon refused to speak to James at the reception, but described him, within James’ earshot, as ‘some kind of amateur magician’. -from Vernon and Petunia Dursley by JK Rowling 

But what Petunia does to Harry goes way beyond anything that could have been excused. And of course, we are also forced to re-read a younger Petunia through that lens, you don't become someone that could do that to a child out of the blue. Was there really ever a time in which she could have been saved?

As for redemption, the personality that is presented to us is not remotely complex enough to consider a redemption arc. Nothing that could be considered in-character. Among the established core traits of her character, there are being envious, and full of hatred.

But even if Petunia decided to become a better person for who knows what spiritual awakening, I don't see why that should become Harry's problem. Each person may have a right to become a better one but that doesn't mean they stop being the person who did the bad things. Even if Petunia became a saint who volunteers in children's hospitals, she would still be the woman who abused Harry, mentally and physically, throughout the first two decades of his life.

I do think that Harry would probably make some sort of attempt to hear her out if that were the case (as much as I also think Ginny would absolutely hate the idea and refuse to let him go alone) because Harry is too compassionate for his own good, and shows more than once to have a problem when it comes to setting boundaries in favour of his own emotional comfort. But I also think it would cause him a great deal of pain and distress and they would never be able to be more than just civil to each other.

In light of that, but also as a general statement in regards to this morbid obsession a lot of people seem to have for redemption arcs, I'd like to say that there's no acceptable reason for the redemption of the abuser to become the punishment of the abused.

[I would advise reading the piece written by Rowling on Vernon and Petunia, there it's made very clear that they love each other]

[lucytsukii]

Curiosities - Stellon Brothers

Hi, here I'm going to tell you a little about my story, more curiosities about Lucy and her brothers, I don't know if you'll like reading it, a lot, so I'm going to separate it by specific character!

Lucy has several siblings, but I will only be talking about the ones I have already introduced here, who knows, maybe I will talk about the others in the future?

I hope you like it, if you have any questions, you can ask me in the chat or even send an ask to the characters!

It's in order of age, from oldest to youngest!

---

Tet:

Lucy's older brother, he is the firstborn and heir to his father, but the person he is closest to is his uncle (Mack) and his brother Mephisto.

He is always with Mack, the two work as Extroyd's protectors.

In my story, Tet is the symbol of protagonism, theoretically...

Unfortunately in my story, due to his position and occupation, he is not allowed to leave his post, his magic is painful and dangerous to himself, so he is trapped in that place...

Jupiter:

Here's the know-it-all, Jupiter is the symbol of intelligence, he really has a lot of knowledge about magic and the world, but in practice...

One of the reasons for him fight so much with Lucy is because she uses their magic spontaneously and sometimes unnecessarily, causing several problems.

Also, unfortunately for him, Lucy is "better" at using magic than he is, he can control it better, but "Entertainment" is something that follows spontaneity... This fills him with rage.

He is very grumpy, but he is a great brother, he hates conflicts and insults, he thinks it is unnecessary, but he doesn't miss the chance to insult Lucy when he can, but when it's not someone from the family who does it, he turns into a beast...

Hitori:

Hitori has to wear a hearing aid because his hearing is very sharp, instead of helping him hear more, it does the opposite, it adjusts the sounds for him!

Because of his hearing, he hates people who shout, his brothers even tend to lower their voices when they are talking.

He hardly forgives people who yell in a fight, he understands that they get angry, but if they yell it ends up making him extremely angry.

The reason he gets so angry about yelling is not just because of his hearing, but it also leads him to a terrible trauma that he wants to forget.

His brothers are a safe haven for him, his connection with his father isn't the best but he still likes him, but his mother... That's another story..

One important point, Hitori's mother is not the same as Tet, Jupiter, Mephisto and the others... Unfortunately....

It symbolizes willpower...

Lucy:

She gets along well with all her brothers, she has a lot of rivalry with Jupiter because they were both born with their father's magic, which he calls "Entertainment".

She is her father's favorite, daddy's little girl style, reason, she has a personality very similar to his, using her magic spontaneously...

In my world, she is the symbol of games and puzzle, Lucy is not the protagonist of my story, but a goddess.

Lucy grew up in a human orphanage until she was 25, that is, her father would visit her every week until she was 15... He let her live with humans to better develop her sociability (It was also a bit of curiosity, he wanted to see what would happen...).

The first brother she became very attached to was Hitori.

She doesn't have a mother, in fact her father created her with magic!

In fact, her creation was to pay a debt that her father had, but that's for another story :D

Lucy has an entertainment company in the human world called Tsuki.

Tenon:

This character was entirely created by my brother, it's even his persona!

He doesn't appear much in my story because he is a character of my brother's.

It can be found in virtually any shadow, its body is so dense that no light passes through it even in its gaseous form.

He comes from a different mother than his other brothers.

As you can imagine, it symbolizes "darkness"/"shadows"

He really likes video games because he doesn't like going out because of the light, so he spends most of his time locked in the basement playing.

---

That's it for now, I hope you enjoyed the curiosities and want to know more, I like telling others about my story, but I'm embarrassed to bore you, see you later!

[sweetblinginrose]

sweetchestnut,

(Billy Hargrove x fem¡OCMayfield)

Samantha Danielle Mayfield finally decides to move to Hawkins with her sister and mother, as well as her mother's new husband and his arrogant son, William "Billy" Hargrove. what they are unaware of is that, gradually, these step-siblings will discover that the line between contempt and passion is more fragile than they supposed, and what begins as shared hostility turns into an intense and undeniable attraction that both find themselves unable to resist.

warnings: read at your own risk, as it includes a continuous sexual environment, profanity, mention of death and suicide, step-sibling relationship, sex, and all its derivatives.

words: 2,5k +

author’s note: i have decided to rewrite this story after so long, so i will tag some people who interacted with my old story. if you don't want to be tagged, let me know and no problem i will remove you and not tag you again 🩵.

(if someone wants to be tagged just tell me)

this work is entirely my own creation. that is to say, i have not based it on anyone else's, so any resemblance to any other work is purely coincidental, as i have been using this format for all my stories since 2019. i hope you enjoy the story. if you find any translation errors, something you don't understand, or similar, please let me know.

masterlist next chapter

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

Chapter One: Shot Throught The Heart - Bon Jovi

Samantha Danielle Mayfield. Yes, Mayfield. She found the surname Hargrove detestable.

Ever since that fateful day when Neil Hargrove took Susan from the arms of the two young girls' father, Samantha has been unable to forgive her mother. She chose to stay with her father indefinitely, firmly resolved not to see her mother's face again, or so she believed. Susan had "betrayed" the Mayfields, fracturing the relationship between Max and Samantha to the point of only allowing them sporadic encounters, plunging both sisters into deep sadness.

As the years passed, they got used to seeing each other only on weekends, and everything seemed to be going well. Until one day, a letter arrived at the Sam residence, which read:

“Hello Sammy,

I am writing to invite you to my wedding with Neil in a few months. We are very happy and wish to share our joy with you. Also, there are some things we need to discuss in person that you should know.

With love,

mom.”

Samantha received the news with displeasure, but over time she understood that everyone is free to decide about their life and that she had to respect it, as nothing would change to please her wishes. So, swallowing her pride, she began the search for a dress for the occasion.

The ceremony went off without incident. Max and Sam were playing cards when Susan stealthily approached her eldest daughter and whispered the dreaded words:

“We need to talk.”

Upon hearing her mother's prepared speech, Samantha burst into tears. She couldn't bear the idea of her mother taking Maxine away from her. Her sister was almost her best friend; separating them was an act of selfishness, wasn't it?

Samantha's reaction was intense. She screamed how great her hatred was for that family, capturing the attention of all those present and ruining part of the wedding. She insulted everyone for the last time and fled in search of a phone booth to call her father, who consoled her, equally affected, trying to convince her that it wouldn't be so bad, that they could keep in touch and visit occasionally.

After the incident, they decided to postpone the move for another year, until early 1984, due to the girl's immature behavior and the deterioration of her father's health, whose lung cancer was advancing inexorably. Months later, at the end of 1984, the girls' father died, unable to fight the cancer that rapidly consumed his weakened body, leaving a huge void in both, but especially in Samantha. She decided not to inform anyone, except her sister through a letter that would arrive a month later, which meant that Samantha lived alone during that time, surviving with difficulty.

The news devastated Maxine, who informed her mother. Susan, very worried, called Samantha repeatedly, not knowing that her daughter had escaped. She called all the authorities in California to find her daughter.

Samantha distanced herself from everything and everyone. She left behind friends and family, taking with her only a letter from Max, some clothes, and the little money she had left. Just the day before Christmas, guided by the offers at the bus stations and the address in Maxine's letter, Sam decided to go to Hawkins, Indiana. Her arrival on December 24, '84, was a Christmas gift for her distressed mother, who interrupted her prayers upon hearing the doorbell. Seeing the familiar face, Susan burst into tears, hugging her daughter tightly and shouting for joy. The commotion attracted everyone present, who ran to witness the emotional reunion between the two redheads and the brunette at the door.

═══════ .˚♡˚. ════════

Six months had passed since the death of their father, and five since her arrival in Hawkins.

Samantha had settled just in time for the start of the second academic term. Despite the widespread interest in befriending her, she only forged ties with a select and quite different group, as most did not pique her interest. Among her new friends was the one she liked best, Keith, the affable young man in charge of the game room, the Arcade, who offered her employment during the school year upon seeing her go there so often, forging a solid friendship based on common interests; two ruby-haired girls, Vicki and Nicole, with whom she shared lunch in the cafeteria and moments of hidden cigarettes under the staircase; and the charming Nancy Wheeler, who became a great ally during Sam's first days of adaptation. Obviously, in the best position was her little sister, Maxine, whom she sneaked into the Arcade and would give everything for. Despite all this, Danielle was quite flirtatious, so she liked to attract the attention of boys, flirt and play with their feelings when she went out at night with Vicki and Nicole. On the other hand, there were people that the brunette couldn't stand, the most notable being her stepbrother, Billy, and his close circle, except for the two redheads mentioned earlier. Exhausted by his arrogant attitude, the girl promised herself that one day she would punch that stupid face. The animosity was mutual. Even when Neil, her stepfather, forced Billy to take the sisters home and bring them from the institute, he occasionally "forgot" his duty, leaving them stranded there, returning on foot. To top it off, the intensity of their two characters caused constant altercations at home, always ending with Neil hitting and scolding Billy or yelling and blaming Susan for the behavior of his eldest daughter, which caused even worse behavior on the part of the eldest, who couldn't stand her mother, but after all, she was the one who had brought her into the world, so she didn't quite like the idea of someone raising their voice to her progenitor.

═══════ .˚♡˚. ════════

Neil and the sisters’ mother had left for California, as they needed to take care of some paperwork related to the Hargrove family’s old residence. It was important to have an in-person conversation with the lawyer. As a result, they would be back in a couple of hours. For Sam, this meant the freedom to sleep all day without anyone bothering her.

At eight in the morning, the couple woke up the kids to inform them of their departure, mentioning that they would return early in the morning. After that, everyone seemed to fall back asleep. The older siblings were tasked with supervising Max, a duty that didn’t seem challenging.

Samantha easily drifted off to sleep. Final exams were over, summer vacation was just around the corner, and the air conditioning in her room promised refuge from the summer heat. She discarded her pants, leaving herself in underwear and an oversized T-shirt, and nestled under the sheets in an idyllic climate. However, the teenager’s perfect plan was interrupted when, in her dream, Billy appeared wearing his ridiculous oversized blue tracksuit. This time, it looked even more comically large, and the music thundered until Sam felt like her eardrums would burst, abruptly waking her up. The strident melody wasn’t part of her dream; it was coming from the room next door, Billy’s room.

The volume was excessive.

Sam tried to ignore it, not wanting to confront Billy today. In fact, she had considered completely ignoring her stepbrother’s existence during this time. She attempted to drown out the sound with her pillows, but after several failed attempts, she jumped out of bed, ripped off her sleep mask, and flung it across the room. It collided with a poster of Tom Cruise, adorned with lipstick marks on his massive cheek. Angry, she smacked the clock that read nine-thirty in the morning.

“Does this idiot have no brain?” she muttered aloud, delivering a blow to the alarm clock. The battery popped out, rolling under the bed.

With resounding steps, she marched toward the door, which she flung open with such force that it slammed against the wall, enlarging the existing hole with each slam. But that was inconsequential at the moment. What truly mattered was throttling Billy until he was breathless. Samantha advanced down the hallway, possessed by rage, until she reached her stepbrother’s door. She pounded on it frantically, demanding that he either lower the music volume or turn it off altogether. After a series of forceful knocks and numerous unanswered shouts, she decided to swing the door open abruptly, not anticipating the scene that awaited her on the other side.

“Billy, I'm so sick of you blasting music at this hour… Oh, shit!” Sam burst into the room, her eyes narrowed in fury, words pouring out rapidly. As she opened her eyes wider, she was met with an unusually peculiar sight…

The increasing wave of moans and lascivious sounds, both male and female, erupted, intertwined with powerful music, completely flooding the house, not just limited to the bedroom. Among these gasps, those of a blonde who shared Billy’s presence stood out. The young woman lay naked, reclined on the bed, which, along with the sheets, seemed to slide down inexorably, although at that moment, surely, that was not her main concern. Although her bust was quite small, it bounced in an unexpected way. They looked like… flan? Billy’s fingers sank into her waist, squeezing with an intensity as if his life depended on it. However, the problem was that Sam had caught Billy in the act of carnal activity, that is, fucking. She had taken in the sweat that soaked his body, slightly dampening his hair, which clung to his forehead and neck; the deep growls that escaped from his lips; the vigorous and fast movement of his hips and the roar that emanated from them; the expression of concentration manifested in his firm bite on his lower lip, and in his eyes, those that said everything, which met Samantha’s just as she opened them, unleashing an involuntary scream from both of them.

“Holy-. Sam! You don’t know how to knock on a damn door? Get the hell out!” he exclaimed with a startled and hoarse voice, covering himself as best he could with the sheet that, as he pulled it, caused the girl who was covered to fall off, not caring at all that his companion was completely uncovered. He quickly threw a magazine, which landed right on the young woman’s shoulder, who closed the door probably faster than the speed of light.

Samantha was frozen, staring at the white wooden door, marked with several scratches and holes from Billy’s punches from inside, reflecting on what had just happened and how to erase that moment from her mind.

“Holy shit…” she gasped. It was the only thing that could come out of her lips at that moment.

“What’s going on?” Max asked behind her, yawning and startling her, almost giving her a heart attack. “I just woke up because of the screams. Are you guys fighting again?” she asked her older sister innocently, assuming that everything boiled down to a usual argument, and without hesitation, taking her side.

Sam nodded and smiled. That was all she did.

“Why don’t you make breakfast today? I… I have to go to the bathroom… yeah.” The young woman sneaked away, reaching the bathroom and locking it, leaning her hands on the sink as she stared at herself in the mirror. She began to lift her shirt and compare herself with the figure of the blonde she had seen because Sam believed her breasts were small, but upon seeing them, she changed her mind. What Samantha didn’t realize was that her distorted perception of her body was leading her to see herself that way, given the taunts she had received from her former friends and, now, Billy, when in reality, she had an enviable figure.

After splashing cold water on her face, she decided to use the toilet before going to breakfast, realizing that she had wet her underwear while recalling the scene with her stepbrother. She couldn’t believe it. It all seemed like a lie to her.

“What’s happening to me?” she wondered, putting her hand on her forehead to check for a fever.

A few moments later, Sam perceived voices coming from the bathroom window facing the street. She interrupted her actions to look out cautiously, still with her panties down, watching as the blonde she had seen in Billy’s room just minutes ago had a heated argument with her stepbrother, who had just received a slap.

“You promised me we would be alone, you jerk,” the girl’s voice echoed in the distance as she got into her car and drove away from the Hargrove residence, extending her middle finger in a defiant gesture through the window, gradually disappearing on the horizon. Samantha felt a deep sense of relief upon confirming that the girl had left. She exhaled deeply and left the bathroom with the intention of savoring the aroma that had attracted her so much: freshly made waffles by Max. However, upon leaving, she came face to face with Billy, who appeared before her wearing only his underwear, exposing his happy trail situated between his V, and a cigarette between his lips. His skin was so covered in sweat that it gave the impression he had just emerged from the shower.

“Move,” he demanded with authority, firmly gripping the girl’s arm and moving her on his own with a gentle but strong push, causing one of her breasts to rub against his damp bicep.

“Don’t touch me, Billy,” threatened the girl, a little uncomfortable with everything that had happened earlier, walking away toward the kitchen.

═══════ TAGS ════════

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[novankenn]

Nora in : Tea with Jaune's family... Jasmine

Nora was literally sweating as she found herself once again in the gothically styled sitting room. As with the first time, off to her side stood a Beowulf in a tux holding a silver serving platter with a tea set on it. As nervous as she was, she had to admit the armchair she was sitting in was exceptionally comfortable.

Nora: I was asleep in my bed... how...

????: Oh, Grandma has her ways, you'll get used to it. So how are you, my dear?

Nora: Um? Do I...?

Nora regarded the middle-aged woman who bore an obvious familial resemblance to Jaune, though Nora expected that she was more her height than Jaune's.

????: Oh, of course, we haven't been properly introduced yet! Can you forgive me for that?

The woman clasped her slender hands before her face and gave Nora a pleading look.

Nora: Uh... sure?

????: Excellent! Anyway, let me introduce myself. My name is Jasmine Arc, I am Jaune's mother.

Nora: Oh? Pleasure... Pleasure to meet you, Mrs...

Jasmine: None of that Mrs crap! You can call me Jasmine or better yet... Mom.

Nora: Eh?

Jasmine: So, I assume Grannie Salem has spoken to you about your duties as an Arc woman?

Nora: Arc woman? Duties? Huh?

Jasmine: (Picking up a cup and saucer from the serving platter) Did you have any questions or concerns? Would you like some advice, secret fertility tips, perhaps?

Nora: We've only be going on for a few months...

Jasmine: Pshaw... I was preggers with Saphron two weeks after meeting Jaune's father. (Takes a sip from her cup) Delicious as always. You have a way with teas Bob, it's a gift.

Beowulf(Bob): *Grunts

Nora: Okay? Um... I'm not sure...

Jasmine: What are you not sure about, my dear? Positions? How to tell your fertile times?

Nora: Why?

Jasmine: Well, some positions are much better at promoting insemination, and of course knowing your fertile days...

Nora: Why?

Jasmine: Why, what?

Nora: Why all this? (Nora waves her hands indicating the entire room) and this? (Points back and forth between herself and Jasmine)

Jasmine: I don't follow. Is something upsetting you?

Nora: Jaune-Jaune and I have only barely started seeing each other... why is everyone so fucking concerned with him knocking me up?

Jasmine: Language, young lady. Didn't your mother teach you not to say such... oh dear.

Nora: (sniffling) She... she...

Jasmine: (Sets her cup aside, and scoots forward to reach out and pull Nora into a motherly hug) It's okay, let it out. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said something like that. It's okay, you're with family...

Nora: Family?

Jasmine: Of course. Grannie likes you, and I can see why my baby boy is into you.

Nora: But we've (sniffling) not talked about anything (sniffling) but babies?

Jasmine: Mother's know. Mother's just know.

The pair sat there, Jasmine holding Nora letting her regain her composure, while Beowulf-Bob looked around uncomfortably. It took a few minutes, but eventually the pair separated. Nora gave Jasmine a weak smile as a thank you as she took her own cup and sipped at the almost room temperature tea.

Nora: It's not that good, just warm.

Jasmine: It's okay, the libido enhancers and fertility drugs will still be effective. Opps!

Nora: The what?

Jasmine: I should not have said that.

Nora: Did you drug me like that crazy grimm-lady did?

Jasmine: Grannie doused you, and you're NOT pregnant? Are you infertile?

Nora: No! I avoided Jaune-Jaune for like four days until I could control myself! What is it with you two wanting me to get knocked up?

Jasmine: (Looks at her bare wrist) My look at the time!

Nora: You’re not wearing a watch.

Jasmine: I'm sorry to cut and run, Nora, but I have a prior commitment. It has been a pleasure, and let's don this again... soon.

Nora: (Bolts up) Wait!

Ren: (Sleepily grumbling) Nora, please. People are trying to sleep.

Nora looked about her, she was once again in her bed, inside JNPR's dorm room at Beacon. Everyone and everything was how it should be, except for the silver tray and tea cup, once again sitting on her nightstand.

Nora: (Whispering as a boiling heat began to build with in her core) Not again...

(Master List)

[viviswtings]

Isn’t it funny how your brain will refuse to fall for anyone because ever since you were a kid you’ve had to ask to be loved?

Ever since I was little I remember begging my parents for love. My mother and I had a strained relationship ever since she divorced my dad, she didn’t like me much, and even as a young child I could tell. While my father was mostly absent due to very limited visit hours.

I used to get good grades, I was book smart and I tried so hard to get into the stuff my mom liked. I tried to be a grown up, because she wasn’t. I remember getting into her bed at night and trying to tell her about my day. She was always too tired, too done with everything for me.

Then the fights came. A child can only ask for love for so long until adolescence hits like a truck and the kid realises something is very wrong in the way her mother ignores her. After the fights comes the violence. She hit. She threw stuff at me. Two toy baby carriers. I hid under the desk, she’s never apologised.

So I called my dad. I was under the belief that my father would come like a knight in shining armour and save me from my abusing mother. He always said he couldn’t. The law, apparently. At eleven years old I only remember being deeply distraught. Why couldn’t my dad come for me? I was very sure he did love me.

Until my mom kicked me out at fourteen. I tried to end things. He was there for me, for a while. After that his girlfriend became more important, he had to “go on with his life” because “one day I would grow up and leave him”. He couldn’t possibly stop living for his daughters.

Then I had my first big crush. I was fifteen, she was fourteen. We met and kept in contact because I called her every day. For many months I called a girl that would laugh and hang up on me. So I called again. I tried to befriend her while every once in a while I sent her a text that said “Please, love me” and she answered with “I can’t” or “I don’t”.

For a while she lived away and promised we would date. I kept it a secret. I was ecstatic. I was sixteen. When she came back she acted like it never happened. Like months of my very real life had been an illusion. That night I was heartbroken. Told a boy I thought I could grow to like I didn’t want to date him. “I like your best friend”, I proclaimed. Like it meant something. “She doesn’t like you” he reminded me. Like I forgot. Like I could.

I accepted it. Just like I accepted my mom and tried to grow closer to her, just for her to sink back down and push me away. Just like I adored my father, who to this day is still distant, though he has tried to change. Just like everything else, I bowed my head, took the love I was given. Even if it meant friendship. She’s now my best friend, I don’t resent her. I don’t love her anymore. It’s been many years since then.

Right after I lost my best friend. Actually, I lost all my friends. Something about cheating. At this time I was barely attending school. The few times I attended I got bullied by the same people I trusted. I trusted them because my best friend had. I loved her. I still do. I can’t forgive her, though. She witnessed everything. I got separated from the rest of the class by my teacher because they had gone as far as trying to influence my grades. We were seventeen.

That summer I begged her for forgiveness. I didn’t know what I had done wrong. “I love you” I told her. “Please I don’t have anyone else” I begged. “You are suffocating me” was her answer. They bullied me until we graduated a year later. I asked everyone for forgiveness, I ridiculed myself for their love. I also tried to end everything, again. I didn’t have the guts.

Then came a boy, many years later, when I thought I had healed. I was twenty. I never had a significant other. I didn’t even dare to talk to the couple of boys I had come to like in those years. This one called me pretty, agreed to meet me. I made a fool of myself. I confessed. “Thank you” was his answer.

I realised, yet again, I had gone after someone who didn’t want me.

It’s been really long since that guy. I actually confessed way later. After trying to make conversation many times, after trying to win a favour I never had. It was like saying “Oh, please. Like me. Just this once. I need someone to feel something for me, just this one time”. It didn’t work. Poor man, he was always so polite.

So now I am closer to twenty-three. I like bands and actors because my body seems physically unable to find anyone around me remotely attractive or interesting. All my friends have stable partners and I just smile and wish them all the happiness I feel like God has refused me. I’ve planned my life disregarding the idea of a typical family. I work hard to succeed because I’ve ever only known fulfilment through my work.

I don’t hate my life. I truly don’t. I have few friends but I trust them. I love my studies and I’ve managed to make a little money through my art. I’ve learned to be grateful for what I do have. But it’s in human nature to seek connection. I’ve learned to believe that I could only ever be truly happy if I turned off that part of my brain. In a way I have seemed to succeed.

Yet if I am one thing in this life is lonely. I don’t believe working on myself before being with anyone will fix it, because I have worked more on myself than anyone I know. I will keep doing it, because the little girl who got told off by her mother and left hanging by her father deserves that much.

But I guess all I wanted was to put it out there. I’m not even sure I have worded things this way to my therapist. Yet this is the truth. It is my truth, if not anyone else’s. And if you have come this far and relate: you’re worth more than what those people did to you.

[duckbang]

Two Dots

Two dots form a line. Two electrons form a bond. Two people form a friendship.

It gets a bit more complicated after that.

Three dots don't make two lines. They can make three, or they can make one. But three electrons don't form three bonds. They form a free radical - well, they can make two bonds in certain circumstances, look at diborane, but banana bonding is weird… it isn’t exactly a three electron bond either. Three people still form a friendship, but it can be tilted, and as they say, three is a crowd.

Where the laws of gravity devised a smooth dance between two planets, between three it is chaotic loops of who will be kicked out first. With three comes the chaos that two had successfully covered in its simplicity.

There were three of us. Me, my brother, and my sister. And well, there is our dad - single and adoptive- and our honorary aunt, who has no relation to our dad apart from friendship. But the three of us were together from the start, since before we met the adults we call family.

We're not three anymore. We could be, we still talk to each other, through telepathy if not face to face. But we aren't together anymore. My brother and sister live together, in a remote, almost inaccessible location. One could go there, but the trip is harsh and not at all forgiving. I live with my dad and aunt, helping them with work.

But right now I stand on a stage, to give an interview with the news stations, one that is not related to dad's research but to my own. I started out helping with his work, but over time my interest deviated to researching animal behaviour within and without their herds (or flocks, or whatever the groups of specific animals are called). There's a hierarchy in both pack animals and lone dwellers. It is challenged often, but the top boss is the top, and not easily defeated. No matter how hard the planets try, they can't make the sun revolve around them. (Well, in a way, the sun does revolve around them. Its the pack leader’s job to make sure their pack is safe. Its a position that comes with both power and responsibility.)

My aunt stands to the side of the stage, hidden by the curtains. I glance at her before turning back to the press. My latest paper created a buzz, for reasons I don't quite understand. It was obvious, wasn't it..? "I simply find it surprising that no one has written anything about it yet, so after detailed research I decided to do it myself," I say in response to a question.

It took years to get enough data. 

"You taught a gryphon how to write with a pencil."

The gryphon in question is, of course, the brilliant silver and earth coloured beast sleeping on the stage, unbothered by the lights and noise. I met it in the beginning stages of my research, when we were scouring out the dry canyons the species calls home. Gryphons aren't pack animals, they prefer to stay alone, but at the same time they're not territorial and let other members of the species prowl and hunt in their area. Mine was a youngling at the time, possibly separated from its mother, because gryphon parents do not look for lost children. I decided to take it in, a decision I have never come to regret.

"It has been known for a long time that gryphon intelligence is comparable to, if not exceeding, human intelligence. It should not come as that great of a surprise," I point out gently. 

Their body design is different from humans, but with specialised tools and lots of practice and explanation it was able to hold a pencil, and with a few more months of work it managed to write it's name on a large sheet, and it was readable.

Maybe that could be a strategy used to help children with learning disabilities, I muse, but don't say it out loud. It's not my area of expertise, but maybe I'll bring it up with a teacher later. Journalists are not good people to discuss things like this with. 

My sister's presence makes itself known via a slight pressure on the back of my head, silently asking if I'm free. Wait, I tell her. Not right now.

I feel her nod as she retreats further into the back, enough that I can focus, but she's clearly interested in what I'm doing. I don't blame her. I'll never get bored of my job either. 

"Look at it this way," I say in response to a question I didn't entirely hear, "Gryphons don't see other members of their species as threats. They challenge each other for territory, yes, but they share their resources. The hierarchy is more of a gradient than a stepcase, with the largest and oldest member of the species usually at the top of it." And its often hard to tell who that is, it took me close to a year to find the leaders of the respective areas I focused on.

Even mine, who had started off obeying commands without question, had become more assertive as it grew older and larger. And now it is bigger than me, our mutual understanding and the gryphon nature being the only things keeping it obedient. Still, it was smart, and would refuse to do a task if it sensed that the job would harm someone, friend or stranger. 

My brother's presence curls around in my subconscious as I keep speaking, curiosity and warning intermixing as he decides to not detract my attention and talks to our sister instead. "Gryphons have been seen to treat even those who hurt them with compassion and kindness, and it is only in extraordinary situations that they seriously injure anyone. We could certainly learn something from that."

A babble of indignation meets my statement. “Humans are perfect,” they say, furious. “We don't need to learn from dumb animals.”

Both of my siblings bristle on hearing them.

I do, too, but keep my composure as I narrow my eyes.

"Humans have often killed each other over minor misunderstandings. Is that what you call perfect?"

No species is perfect. Human capacity to understand and adapt our behaviour is unmatched, so it gives us more avenues to grow. It is a shame that even 'simpler' animals like dogs, then, outmatch us in understanding, cooperation, and compassion.

Once, before I started working as a researcher, before we started living separately, the three of us decided to follow a pack of wild dogs to see where they would go. We were old enough to be trusted alone by then, and with school being on vacation we didn't have anything to worry about. So we packed our bags with enough food and clothes to last us a week and set off behind the pack.

It was an interesting experience. But what stood out to me most then, and even now, was how they made sure no member of their pack was left behind, and if one was injured they would slow their pace considerably so it could keep up. Gryphons don't do that, but they're not exactly social species. That was the incident that kicked off my interest in behaviour research in the wild, instead of trained behaviours in the lab.

Sure, my gryphon knows how to write, but it is a lab animal. I taught it mainly just to see what would happen, as with the landshark we taught to buy groceries.

I should probably take up researching dogs behaviour again, but for the foreseeable future Gryphons have a chokehold on my research. The latter is also what I tell a reporter asking what's next for my work, and after answering a few more questions and dodging those about my family, the conference moves on to some other scientists I forget the name of. But I'm free to leave or stay now, as I wish. I decide to stay, finally getting time to talk to my siblings who've been waiting for about an hour now.

It must be serious, if they decided to wait. 

So, she projects, amusement laced in her voice, You know how two dots form a line?

I don't have the patience for this, I decide immediately.

Well, I was thinking, and you can't have a combination of points that makes exactly two lines, if you want to connect all of them. Two dots form one line, but three form three, or one, and four form four or three or one, and so on, but no assortment makes two. That's weird, isn't it?

I thought you hated maths? my brother replies.

Get to the point, I tell her as I take the complimentary lunch box the organisers had so thoughtfully put together. Is the number of lines really that important?

I do, I was just thinking. And well... There really isn't any point. I just thought it was weird.

And here I thought it was something serious, I think. Unfortunately they pick up on my thoughts.

Aw, you worry about me? my sister teases as I settle down to eat.

Not if you keep being annoying like that, I respond. My brother laughs at that.

With that sorted out by tracking down a mathematician or two who were free to talk to my sister and giving them her address - which, again, directed them to an almost inaccessible area, and with my gryphon finally awake enough to fly us back to our home, I decided to finally head out of the conference hall. The sky, already orange and pink from the setting sun on one side and fading to the deep blue of night on the other, cloudless and the air without much in the way of wind, stood perfect for flying. My gryphon's wings reflected the fading light of the sun as we rose into the air, turning to gold from silver and the deep browns gave it a brilliant shaded look. It was a work of art, through and through. 

It takes two people to form a friendship, two souls for a connection. I know it's silly, but I've never felt more connected to anyone more than my silver and earth gryphon. Even my siblings, and we can talk to each other through telepathy, never made me feel the same way as simply being with my gryphon does. I ruffle the soft feathers on its back, feathers that almost look like fur from a distance, so soft and small. I have never regretted bringing it home with me, even if it does challenge me for my bedroom sometimes. 

I space out during the flight, almost falling asleep to the beating of its heart and the occasional flap of its wings. There's no danger of falling, my gryphon is a graceful and careful flyer. As such, with the last rays of the sun dipping below the horizon and the only thing lighting up the sky being a pale twilight, I doze off, trusting my friend to keep both of us safe. 

[weshallc]

I know most people are probably over it or sick to death of hearing about it and some just wondering what all the fuss is about. But, I keep hijacking everyone's posts. So I'm just going to say what I thought and be done with it.

Series 12 Ep 5 under the bar just in case anyone has skilfully managed to avoid spoilers.

Yesterday I received a very kind comment on the first fanfic I ever wrote. I remember at the time, because it was my first attempt and I didn't know if there would be another, I plunged every single idea I'd had about that period of the show into it. I didn't hold anything back for another time. That's what Series 12 Ep 5 felt like to me.

In the first five minutes we are introduced to six storylines even though Mrs Wallace opening a dry cleaners doesn't have much mileage. Apart from a bit of foreshadowing spotted by @ctmwidower

The most positive storyline is that of the Barkelys. I think is the first time we have seen a positive portrayal of a hospital birth. Yes, Phyllis is on hand to offer support, but the cardiologist and the obstetrician are actually quite human. There was something that got my hackles up, but I don't think this is an error because this kind of situation still arises today. Dr Turner tells Mrs B she mustn't risk another pregnancy because of her heart condition. When she suggests getting her tubes tied, he tells her she is too young. Now if he had added, I'm not ruling out they may find a treatment for your heart condition in the future, that was a different conversation.

Spencer's story. I imagine was to show how difficult it was to obtain psychiatric support. As a GP, he was left without adequate resources trying to do his best. I also get the punchline is waiting times for mental health referrals are much worse today. But, I don't get why an experienced GP handled it so badly. "Are you hearing voices?" "No" "Oh, OK then". Followed by here is a pill from out of my pocket (that did used to happen) you can spit it out when I walk away before I watch you swallow it.

Jill knew he was hearing voices, his mother knew, Nancy knew, Cyril knew, probably even Mrs Wallace knew. All he had to ask was, "Does Spencer sometimes think the TV or radio is on when it isn't?" I really didn't see the point of the stabbing other than sensationalism. It was a pretty drastic measure just so Cyril could be gifted a phone call to Jamaica.

Which brings me to my next point. This was an episode of stories that went nowhere. We'll never know what happens to Spencer, the stabbing wasn't an exit story and Cyril was discharged pretty swiftly. Unless he suffers from PTSD or it brings Lucille back, not sure what the point of that was. We don't know what method of contraception the Barkleys chose that story just fizzled out. Shelagh isn't pregnant. Sir Brigham was introduced just to kill him off and maybe to send Trixie on a cardiac refresher course because it was pretty obvious what was going to happen in 'the little boys room' and she can update her CPR training. I do hope we are not starting to trade medical accuracy for dramatic effect.

There was also an outbreak of characters acting out of character. The positive being MORE angsty, overwhelmed, telling it like it is Shelagh, please! Well over due. That takes us back to Patrick, who isn't having the best of episodes tbh. All I can think is Heidi and Stephen had a bet on how many meaningless cliches Dr Turner could say in one episode. Why there wasn't any physical contact between the two? Well, we've been wondering that for ten years now. I still think the door frame scene was filmed with each actor separately. Otherwise I'm bewildered.

Two of the original characters who have been at Nonnatus well over a decade, maybe two, suddenly forgot how to deal with authority. Fred, who was supposed to protect Poplar from a nuclear attack and against Russian spies, seems to have forgotten that 'loose tongues cost lives'. One slip would have been forgivable, but why is he telling him confidential information about salaries, and how does he even know that information?

Sister Julienne meanwhile turned into Auld Jenny, wittering on about love. I hate to admit I had to agree with Mr Threapwood there. "It is 1968, love is no longer a legitimate currency." Did make me laugh. Meanwhile, Lucille's personality transplant is almost complete in Jamaica.

To end on a positive note and to cut Dr T some slack, Patrick's facial expressions were spot on during the talk. I found the Chuckle Brothers (thank you again @ctmwidower ) bathing shenanigans funny and also quite nice to see an aspect of 1960s social care. But did we really have time for it in such a full episode?

"All thoughts, feelings and understanding are broken into pieces and cannot be made to connect in the usual way." Was a great description by Sister Veronica. I just wondered if she was talking about the episode.

[irawhiti]

to be clear with regards to my post attempting to coin ngāti rangiātea, i say a few times in vague terms that people will expect you to go to drastic lengths to find your iwi that are not reasonable nor moral. i'm not remotely exaggerating, especially about the moral part.

the final straw that prompted drafting the post and term for me was when, after mapping out my entire family line to pinpoint the person who came from aotearoa to australia over multiple years only to find VERY solid evidence that they were born on the ship to australia and their mother deliberately obfuscated their identities + there is literally no tribal record due to them fleeing aotearoa during the musket wars, i was told to send a physical letter to a person who married into my family who i found out by chance currently lives in aotearoa. this was only possible because i found she is semi-popular in certain circles and has a p.o box at her work address.

despite this being a pretty extreme invasion of privacy, i sent a hopeful letter asking for any information she may have had. obviously i never got a response. this was met with people telling me that i need to send more letters to this complete stranger. when i said "yeah i don't want to do this, there is a 99.9% chance she doesn't even know we're māori due to my specific situation, she clearly isn't interested in speaking to me, i've just found out she was a truly awful person towards my immediate family, and this is a gross invasion of privacy" i was criticised for giving up.

and forgive me for saying that i just don't think that this should be the state of things. to put the concept of Maybe Potentially finding one more crumb of info to put towards Maybe Potentially discovering a piece of your family history above basic human decency and respect.

and it's like... alright. theoretically: what if this did lead to the discovery of my iwi? what exactly does this do for me? like, functionally? i'm not from aotearoa. my family have been diaspora māori for almost 200 years now. my fires have been put out, i have no access to a marae, my entire family (alive and dead) has had a fundamentally different life experience than the other māori from the iwi we came from. hell, entire iwi have come and gone in 200 years, absorbed into other iwi through marriage or wiped out through conquest.

apart from being a brief nod to my whakapapa in a pepeha (followed by the harsh reality that i still wouldn't know my hapū to recite immediately after my iwi), what would this mean for me? for my whānau? why am i expected to run around in circles, ripping myself and everyone around me who may have a single fucking crumb of information apart? who does this validate? because it sure as hell doesn't validate me. i've decided that i'm much more interested in representing and learning about my whānau than the people i was separated from nearly two centuries ago at this point and hey, if that makes strangers feel a bit pissy for some reason, that's really not my problem.

so, i'm ngāti kangaru, a tongue-in-cheek label, and i'm ngāti rangiātea, a call to action.

and above all, i'm done doing morally objectionable shit and begging like a kurī for a scrap of fucking respect.

[kairos-polaris]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Laurell hell, suku/ita & go/yuu fic.

Kenjaku & Yuuji parent child bonding below the cut, 1.2k words

Yuuji woke up in a strange place. Pitch black, there was nothing but two stools. He was sitting on one and the other was left unoccupied. The weight of the place itself was heavy on his chest, pulling him under; it felt as if he was underwater and couldn’t resurface.

A presence, more familiar than it should have been, made itself known.

“Hello, Yuuji, it’s been a while,” the thing parading in Getou Suguru’s body said before sitting down on the stool. It sighed. “So rude, you know my previous names, you know my actual name, yet you still think of me as a ‘thing’ and ‘it’. So rude to your poor mother,” it pouted. “And yes, I can hear your thoughts, Yuuji.”

What was this place? Why was Yuuji there? How could he even get out of there?

“This is a realm between curses and living. You may have heard of it already, from the people who were allowed to refuse participation in the games. It is a realm of dreams and I can control this particular part of it,” the thing, Kenjaku, explained. “Can a mother not miss her child? I sought to offer you comfort after you lost your soulmate but I can see you don’t want it,” they sighed. “No matter, I still wish to sate my curiosity, after that I will let you leave.”

How could he even get out of there?

The thing tsk-ed. “Patience, my boy. I answered your questions, now it’s your turn,” they smiled sharply, their indulgent and almost bored.

“I don’t want to,” Yuuji replied out loud for the first time. “I am not interested in answering your questions, just let me out.”

Kenjaku, sighed once again, daring to look disappointed with him, when it was Yuuji who had any right to feel upset.

“I am just worried for you, my boy,” they said with false concern. “It must feel so terrible to be separated from your soulmate like that. The emptiness where once Sukuna’s soul resided, intertwined with yours. No pair of soulmates have ever reached this level of connection, completion. No one came as close to becoming one as you and Sukuna did. It must feel terrible to lose it,” they cooed, their sympathy just as fake as their concern. “I do feel sorry for you, Yuuji. Everyone would, for a loss like that.”

Yuuji froze. He had refused to confront the gaping emptiness in his mind and soul. Pretend he didn’t miss something, someone, that he didn’t mindlessly reach out to Sukuna’s soul only to find it missing. Pretend he wasn’t disappointed each time. Pretend he didn’t crave the weight of Sukuna’s being. Ever since his death sentence was announced Yuuji couldn’t help but dream there was a way to separate him and Sukuna, to kill the king of curses without dying himself. A terrible selfish desire that Yuuji suppressed each time (his resolve to accept his death had to remain unwavering, he couldn’t entertain silly wishes like that) that left him full of aching and longing when it was fulfilled. Oh, his whole soul was a blistering wound, hurting from the separation with its second half.

Kenjaku smiled, no doubt listening to Yuuji's thoughts. “My poor baby, suffering like that,” they cooed. “You have entertained me enough. Now I can let you leave or I can tell you something about Sukuna first. You will have to answer another question for it, of course.”

Yuuji hesitated. He wanted to leave immediately, he didn’t care about Sukuna. But… Whatever Kenjaku had to say could be useful in their future fight against him and Yuuji couldn’t risk it, even if it meant staying in their presence for longer. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if they missed gaining an advantage because of his discomfort.

“Mommy is hurt Yuuji hates talking to her this much,” they sighed, fake pout on their lips. It looked ridiculous on Getou’s face, especially combined with the stitches on their forehead. “But I will pretend I didn’t hear that,” not that Yuuji cared, “and tell you about Sukuna.

“He doesn’t feel the same gaping emptiness you do, it was, after all, your body that had to adjust to the weight of two souls. Doesn’t it upset you that he was the one who left yet you alone have to bear the consequences? So unfair. I can assure you, however, Sukuna still feels your absence, even if not to the extent you do. I see the frustration in his eyes as he reaches out for your soul to find Fushiguro Megumi’s instead. His irritation is an entertaining sight,” they laughed. “I am certain he himself doesn’t realize his soul seeks out yours, blind to its true desires no matter how well he understands the shape of it.”

Yuuji did not expect for Sukuna to feel his absence, even if it wasn’t as acutely as he did. Unwillingly, he was filled with bitter triumph, an undeniable proof that his soulmate missed him, if Kenjaku’s words were to be trusted and they had no reason to lie about it.

“I have no reason to lie about it,” they echoed Yuuji’s thoughts, an uncomfortable reminder of their omniscience in this space. “It hurts me that Yuuji is so distrustful of his poor mother’s good intentions. I just want to take care of my son’s well-being, is it so wrong of me?”

Anger boiled under his skin, the audacity to pretend to be a caring parent when they’ve done nothing but hurt him. When they had hurt Choso’s mother, when they had allowed him to kill his brothers. How dare they fake concern when they were the one to send curses at him, the one who orchestrated his suffering?

“And you grew stronger from it, did you not?” they asked, finally dropping the mask of parental worry. “All I desire is to see humanity evolve and evolution requires hardships to overcome and grow from. I can’t create something greater than myself as evident by your failures of brothers so I facilitated the growth of something new. You have grown so much in such a short time and soon I will witness the results of the merger,” they said with a proud smile. Kenjaku continued, pride replaced by indulgence: “I do care for you, Yuuji. I wish to see you succeed and grow and there is no growth without suffering.”

“It is not care if you want me to suffer,” Yuuji found himself saying. Why was he even entreating them?

“Coddling isn’t care either. And I do not wish you to suffer, I am simply acknowledging the necessity of experiencing hardships to grow stronger,” Kenjaku countered. They shook their head. “No matter. It is my turn to ask questions.”

Yuuji’s blood turned into ice. “What do you want to know?” he asked, desperately trying to keep his voice even.

Kenjaku smiled at that, their face and head slowly morphing into someone different. A woman with short black hair, unfamiliar familiar features in contrast with Getou’s body. With horror and shock came recognition. This was how his mother looked like

“Did you miss me, Yuuji?” Kenjaku asked, voice different too, grinning widely.

Yuuji did not get to respond, waking up with a gasp in his room. Heart beating wildly, the twisted features of his mother’s face combined with the body of Getou Suguru engraved on his eyelids.

“It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real,” Yuuji repeated the words like a chant. “Not real.” But the memories of the conversation remained a heavy weight on his mind

[livia-dovehallow]

Hii! Can I ask what is your opinion of Grace right now?

Hi! Of course you can! (And as a forewarning, my use of "you" throughout this answer is in the general sense and not at all directed to you specifically, anon!)

I'll try to keep this spoiler-free, as this is an overall opinion throughout all the books.

At the start, I was generally indifferent to her, as she was really only around to further James's plot and I am not a fan of James (or the main love triangle at all. I despise love triangles).

But, once we started getting more of her separate from that toward the end of Chog and throughout ChoI, I think she's a seriously misunderstood character and people are quick to hate and spewing their hate all across the fandom and in the Grace Blackthorn tag.

No, Grace is not meant to be a perfect character. She is not even meant to be a good character (in terms of good v evil). She is purposely meant to parallel Estella from Great Expectations but offer her side of the story in addition to the other (which we don't get of Estella in Great Expectations. This isn't a spoiler for Great Expectations considering this book is literally almost 150+ years old.)

We're meant to see an admittedly toned-down depiction of a girl who has been seriously emotionally abused and neglected, had her beloved brother die horribly in her arms, and has no memory of her birth family--only of her sick, twisted adoptive mother. We're meant to see how she has felt she needed to do these things to survive. She's a sixteen/seventeen year old girl; we seriously cannot expect her to have the most seamless, foolproof decision making skills. We obviously know Tatiana does not have a seamless, foolproof decision making ability. You really expect me to think she taught Grace any?

Grace made bad choices. Grace hurt people. Are we meant to sympathize with her? Well, that's where it's reader's interpretation. But I certainly think she's not meant to be villainized. More of a morally gray character, who did both good and bad things to survive because she felt she had to.

Do we see her come to recognize the difference between those good and bad things at the end of Chain of Iron? Sure, we see the start of it. But we can't honestly expect her to make up for everything she did in a one week time span that is the break between Chain of Iron and Chain of Thorns.

Nor, do I think, are we meant to forgive her either. That's also reader's interpretation/choice. I'll leave that to you all to decide for yourselves once you read Chain of Thorns. Whether you think she got what she deserved or didn't is literally entirely reader's choice.

But I do get pretty annoyed when I see people use certain words, phrases, and descriptions of Grace. I think calling Grace a r*pist is beyond inappropriate. That's a serious thing to call someone. What she did to Matthew is definitely assault. But I think the fandom often forgets that r*pe is a serious, serious thing and is not something to be thrown around lightly or just because you hate a character. This is a terrible thing that happens to too many people and just throwing it around all the time like that isn't doing any favors to fellow fans who have experiences or triggers of it.

I certainly can tell you that there are many fans who feel as though they can identify with Grace because they, too, grew up with an abusive parent or felt pressured into doing things they didn't necessarily want to do because it was the only way they could see to survive. Not all victims of abuse are perfectly docile and innocent like I think many people like to believe. No two victims are the same. Some may grow up able to cope well. Others do not. Many, I'm sure, what stood exactly where Grace has--at a crossroads of survival instinct and recovery. Some have made bad choices themselves just as much as they've made good choices. Some more than others.

You all remember that I went to the Chain of Thorns tour. There was one fan who described this exact feeling of identifying with Grace because her own mother was abusive and neglectful. She said she never expected to see a character like Grace in a YA novel because of the dark undertones of that kind of experience. Like I mentioned earlier, it is an admittedly toned-down description since it is a YA book, but there is always someone out there who can identify with that character in one way or another.

Also, Grace is a fictional character. I have seen many of you who have said terrible things about Grace turn around and love the villains of other books who do terrible things, too. Is it because Grace is a girl? Is it because you may have found yourself a bit too in love with the fictional James Herondale? Whatever the reason, take a minute to reflect on why it is you feel the need to spew hate about a fictional character and threaten people whose opinions differ from yours.

I have had several people come to me on here, both in asks and in chats, telling me that for the longest time, they did not feel safe talking about Grace at all on any platform because they would be attacked in all directions for it. That is not how a fandom should be. That is not a fandom at all. That is a terribly isolating experience that someone who has sought comfort in these books or just simply enjoys a character should not have to be subjected to because you think your opinion is morally superior.

Sometimes I wonder if I am just sounding too much like a grandma when I say things like this because I know I'm of the older crowd of TSC fans but you're not cool just because you attack people online. Having a moral superiority complex does not make you cool. The world is not black and white. Things are not as simple and good and bad. And you certainly do not have a right to spew hateful, rude, abhorrent things to people who may think differently than you do.

An anon said this in a previous ask about Grace, and I fully agree: liking Grace doesn't mean you condone everything she did or approve of anything she did. It just means you like a fictional character, for whatever reasons.

I've fully moved off my indifferent opinion of Grace and have moved toward finding that I think her character is incredibly more complex than I ever really gave thought to before and I think she's terribly mistreated by fans. Whether I think she's mistreated by the narrative, too, well, you'll have to read my spoiler-filled answers to previous asks to find out.

But that is my extremely long, elaborative answer on my opinion of Grace, and I hope that answers your question, anon (or at least addresses what you wanted me to talk about)!

...

This is also a reminder to any new followers of mine (welcome!) that I am a legal adult. I am 23 years old, almost 24. If there are topics I discuss or write about that make you uncomfortable, you do not have to read them. You don't have to interact or engage with any of it at all. You're free to unfollow me if you ever feel uncomfortable. I will answer all kind/polite asks, whether they contain adult content or not, though I will always tag accordingly.

Anything I write that contains even a hint of adult content will always be tagged as such and I will not write any explicit content of under-age characters. (Since I mostly write about Gabrily, I tend to focus on their early years of marriage if a piece references adult concepts at all).

[kaedeakeshisworld]

witchcraft

I am a witch, when something feels off it's going to be resolved by next week trust me.

I am a witch, when I don't like someone I know something's up with them. And somehow, I am right about that person.

I am a witch, I don't forgive and I don't forget. Time and time again, I keep telling my mum that if someone came back into their life, it's not necessary to welcome them with open arms 'cause the bitch didn't change. Yet my mum keeps getting played.

I am a witch, I sleep with two if not five crystals under my pillow, I have a cleaning station for them on my shelf and carry some to in my undergarments if not on my neck or my wrist.

I am a witch, anytime someone will plot against me I return to the sender a thousand fold and my ancestors gon' handle the rest( being ruled by daddy Saturn does help a lot, I promise)

I am a witch of course I put cinnamon in my coffee my purse and blow it on my front door each first of the month.

I am a witch, I will spray my car with sun water to protect it, drink moon water to solve some of my problems and draw a sigil on the inside of my elbow to provide me with some courage.

I am a witch, I do have a sorcerer I refer to whenever I'm having some trouble and I also update him with my life. While our viewpoints highly diverge, he's someone I can rely on.

I am a witch, prophetic dreams are a common occurrence.

I am a witch, food that is not cooked with spices, onion, garlic, ginger and olive oil won't be something I'll consume.

I am a witch, when I tell my mother some things she calls me fitiçera.

I am a witch, if I get the shivers more than once in less than five minutes, I 'm dropping all plans I had for that day or become hyper vigilant. Something real bad is gon' unfold…

I am a witch there are chances I know your whole life before you even try to date me. Don't ask me how I know all that, I won't say it.

I am a witch, I love it when people lie to me…

I am a witch, my ears become unbearably hot when someone I know talks smack about me.

I am a witch, I have a manifestation notebook, a gratitude journal, a dream log and a nightmare one(the last two have to be separate).

I am a witch, please do not ask why my room smell like weed. Mind your business(it's burnt bay leaves and issa strong smell)

I am a witch, I know when leeches are coming my way but never will I let them enter my safe haven.

I am a witch, I bless my food before I eat it.

I am a witch, I do see and feel things in my room or even my house that's why whenever I deem fit I start clapping like a mad woman and kicking them out.

I am a witch, spirit always surrounds me with gentleman who will gladly help me without even asking while I silently ask spirit to send them away 'cause ion need 'em.(you can't tell I hate asking for help😬)

I am a witch, when I entered my teenage hood a whole lotta bitches called me many names I won't mention because they thought I was going to steal their man. Poor thing, if he cheats on you he was never your in the first place. He belong to the SKREETS, hoe!

I am a witch, a lot of married men will tell me 'I will give you a good time, just one date mmkay' right before their wife(shame did leave the chat, noted) and I tell them right in their ear the following I suggest you to stop being this much of a pig, your wife knows what your doing I already told her and watch their face with no sparkle left. Play me and I'll play you harder!

[noda-fatafata]

Thank you for watching!

An amateur who can't even read music made this music🎵

They say that a mirror sometimes reflects a person's true self.

The man in this music video is worried that his child is not growing up the way he wants.

His son always acts the opposite way he wanted.

And he thinks to himself.

"I was doing it right."

In other words, when he was little, he tried desperately to become like his strict father.

Unable to accept what is happening in front of him, he stares at the mirror and desperately tells himself.

"I am me, my son is my son."

Unfortunately, there are people in the world who do not see their children as separate individuals, but as their own alter egos.

He is a typical example of this, and has been desperately trying to put a no-no on his desires.

But his mother and his wife saw through it.

That's why they always say the opposite to him.

But he couldn't understand.

He couldn't forgive the two people who forgave their sloppy father and forgave their sloppy son.

The mirror he was looking into was not just a mirror, but a one-way mirror.

His image, frowning and alone, was reflected in the mirror of their eyes.

They already knew he was forcing himself.

He had always thought that the opposite world was reflected in the mirror, but in fact he was trying to live in the opposite world.

Looking from the other side of the mirror, the girls teased him, hoping that he would quickly return to the opposite world, that is, his true self.

However, he was still strongly brainwashed by his father, and was unable to recognize the message and treated her harshly.

He realized after she was gone that his mother had already passed away and had been watching over him all this time.

He realized this when he visited his father, whom he had supposedly resented as an old man.

And then the climax.

"You've been watching me all this time, from the opposite world, like a on-way mirror."

Ironically, by the time he realized it, his mother had really passed away in the opposite world (the afterlife).

This song conveys the message of realizing that message as soon as possible, breaking free from the shackles of the past, and the importance of being your true self, and loving the world as it is.

I hope you'll watch until the end♪

Thank you.

【One-Way Mirror】

I must accept,

I am myself,

My son is his own person,

Glaring at my reflection in the mirror.

Textbooks, once scrawled with doodles,

A football, now layered in dust,

Dishes, still set in silence,

I've done all as I must,

Yet why does she smile with such trust?

Ah, yes, that's how it was,

Back when we were young,

You often teased me so,

"Sloppiness is what I love in you," you'd say,

I used to despise that in you.

I must be acknowledged,

I am the father,

The father is me,

Glaring at the reflection I see.

Textbooks brimming with notes,

Football worn from play,

Dishes neatly arrayed,

Father did nothing, yet,

Why was she smiling that way?

Ah, I remember well,

When I was just a boy,

You'd tease me with a smile,

"Your earnestness is what I adore," you'd say,

I hated that about you in those days.

Ah, it's true,

I often mocked you both,

Saying "I envy you",

I despised myself for that.

I loathe the sight in the mirror,

The gaze of you,

Reflecting a world inverted,

It feels like meeting truth's eyes.

You've been watching all along,

From a world reversed,

My true self you've discerned,

Like a one-way mirror observed.

https://youtu.be/w70tBGbsxOI?si=MTOIoxOuDobDynRr

user1015565423761

#OneWayMirror #NewMusic #SongRelease #ReflectOnThis #DeepThoughts #EmotionalJourney #FatherAndSon #GenerationalReflection #HiddenTruths #MusicWithMeaning #MockingbirdInspired #LyricVideo #SoulfulSounds

[imtheghostinsidemyhead]

the cycle

My entire life I secretly knew that I was gay, I would shove my feelings down deep and I always had this ongoing spiral of guilt in my heart. My mom would never forgive me if she knew. One day I decided to play a game with God, heads I’m straight, and tails I’m gay. The coin landed on heads but I already knew the truth.

 An old friend, ______ texted me for the first time in a year.  She was a deeply tragic figure, full of melancholy, mystery, and an emptiness in her eyes. She had run off to Minnesota on our winter break without even notifying the school. She wanted me to break up with her long distance boyfriend at our school for her. After that moment I was head over heels for her, but I never let myself feel that. We were both extremely depressed, unknown to our mothers. My grief was known by no one and all of ______’s were known by me. I continued this until my inboxes were full of self harm scars and suicide attempts. It all came to a head when she disappeared for a month after a suicide attempt. When she reemerged she came with the vice of sexting adult men online.

After getting relentlessly bullied in eighth grade, my dad paid for me to fly up to see ______ for two weeks. On the plane ride my brain was consumed with kissing her. I didn’t know what these feelings meant and I was scared of them. My body was filled with feelings I never had before. We were listening to Come On Eileen lying face to face cuddling closer together. I went in and kissed her I had never felt anything as wonderful as that kiss in my entire life. But to my dismay, she didn’t feel the same. But she didn’t tell me, she just resented me after that. I remember that Fourth of July 2017 like a bad dream, we just sat in silence lighting fireworks on an empty suburban street. She wouldn’t look at me, but I didn’t realize I’d hurt her. She’d lie, trying not to lose another friend the only way she knew how. 

It was my fifteenth birthday when ______ blocked me. There was a man, Jayden who was grooming ______. She found him through my need to validate myself through suicide prevention. And through their love of suicide, they began to e-date. On my birthday I opened my phone to a crudely drawn dick pick from Jayden asking for nudes. In a way I was relieved, I finally had a reason to block him. But she didn’t feel the same way, she defended him.

The aftermath of ______ caused me to ruin my life, it ruined the way I saw love, friends, self-worth, and the way I viewed my sexuality, I wanted to be someone who would’ve never kissed her. Someone who would’ve been that real friend that she needed. So I got into a long-term boyfriend immediately after, even though I wasn’t into men. I was scared of my body and thoughts. I separated myself from them. This cycle almost happened again, except this time I had a choice, I could repeat what happened before, or I could reevaluate why it was happening. After six years of living through punishing myself. I’m not putting my worth into saving people anymore. I’m now trying to save myself.  I forgive my past, so I can move on, and I hope ______ has too. I hope she’s having a wonderful twenty-first birthday tonight, whoever she is.