#I blame my brain tumor for this one

[madmacci]

Ask your friend to pickle your boobs.

[sevenrenny]

Recently a relative asked me why I'm 'suddenly' always sick and that I was so healthy as a kid.

I was never a healthy kid. I was always in pain, but nobody believed me. I complained I had moments of dizziness, momentary visual blurriness and blindness, moments where I couldn't balance myself, and intense migraines so bad I fantasized popping a hole in my skull hoping that would get whatever was hurting me out of my head. I had days where it was just brain fog, but I was too young to know the word 'brain fog'. I'd have days where I was in so much pain I'd vomit.

But I got scolded for 'faking it' for attention or to get out of school. I got punished for 'being lazy'. So little by little, I learned complaining about constant pain that made me suicidal would make things worse for me. People punished me for telling them I was hurting, so I shut up.

Even when I became quiet about it, there were things I couldn't hide and my family rug-swept them: I passed out at school a few times from intense pain. I had multiple intestinal issues my family told me were normal, that 'it happens to everyone', telling me that 'Your dad had that happen so many times' while chuckling like it was funny. Every time, they waited for me to 'stop being dramatic' until I started screaming and writhing on the floor and they finally got me to the ER, scolding me the whole time for 'not saying anything sooner'.

During one of those visits, a doctor found a large tumor I was choking on. He found it by accident when he was putting a tube down my throat. I'd been having trouble breathing, but my family accused me of lying, and I'd started to think I was imagining it. Upon discovering the tumor, my mom's reaction was to scold me for giving myself a tumor.

After the tumor removal, the doctor had told her something seemed odd, and he talked with my mom for a bit but I can't remember what they said. We never went back to this doctor. When I asked my mom about it later, she told me the doctor was stupid and he had no idea what he was doing. (It was in my 20s when I went to check on my intestinal issue that the doctor told me he suspected I had gastroparesis, which he later confirmed it was.)

I struggled with classes because of the combination of undiagnosed medical issues, undiagnosed ADHD, undiagnosed dyscalculia, and having panic attacks (later got diagnosed with c-PTSD). My mom threatened to marry me off or kick me out of the house for almost failing math. I was sworn at, told horrific things that still stick with me (and the rest of the family blamed me for 'being lazy' and making her angry with me). I was a kid and couldn't understand why existing hurt, why, if it was so 'normal' to be in consent agony, everyone else seemed to not be struggling like me. I couldn't wrap my head around why everything that seemed so easy for everyone else was almost impossible for me.

It wasn't until an online friend asked me if I had some sort of disease because I was constantly in the hospital. I told her, "No, not really. What's the average number of times someone's in the hospital?" She said, "Renny, I've never once been to the ER." She was older than me. It was then that it clicked for me. I'd been so convinced that all of this was normal, that I was behind everyone else in life because I must be just a weak person because I was so behind even when I gave it my hardest.

I wasn't behind because I was weak. I was behind because I was never given the assistance I needed.

As soon as I became an adult and financially independent, I started seeking medical help. Got diagnosed with severe chronic migraines and other illnesses typically comorbid with chronic migraines and gastroparesis. (There are some issues I can't get medical help for in my country, so those will have to wait). I'm on medications now. Because of gastroparesis, pills didn't work for me too well, so a friend taught me how to use autoinjectors. I have friends who actually help me, give me advice, drive me to my appointments, and just be there for me emotionally.

Being medicated has made being alive so much more bearable. I can actually live my life now. Yes, I still have days where I'm in pain (not just migraines, but my other conditions, most of which don't have any treatments to manage them) but it's such a massive improvement from where I was before. I'm happier. I go to therapy. I found people I can talk about my pains and conditions freely to without being told I'm faking it or lazy. I don't work myself to the bone anymore; I shouldn't be giving my 100% to a job that refuses me accommodations when I'd need most of that to manage my health.

I'm back to complaining about pain because, before my family trained me to shut up about it, I was doing it right from the beginning. I'm supposed to complain about pain. Just because I can talk about it freely now, doesn't mean I was never sick before. Just because I'm on medications now, doesn't mean I didn't need them years ago.

I'm happier now as an adult. You just don't like that I'm visible about my illnesses now. It makes you uncomfortable that I self-administer injections, that I talk about my health the way that I want to. The thought of chronic illness makes you uncomfortable; you liked it better when I was quiet. You'd rather I don't find diagnoses for my illnesses, because, in your logic, if I don't go get the diagnosis then I'm not sick.

I was never a healthy kid. You just don't want to admit you went along with the rest of the family to abuse a disabled kid for being disabled.

[backtothefanfiction]

All The Good Girls Go To Hell | TF!Boys Mafia AU~ Part ONE

Summary: When Phoenix comes home to find her fiancé banging some other girl, her whole life changes seemingly overnight. Forced to go back and live with her Dad, she's about to be dragged into a life with the men her Dad is indebted to.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY (Mature Content), Dark Mafia Romance Au, setting things on fire, swearing, dead parent, debt, mental health issues, brain tumour, broken family, anger issues (female rage), AFAB OFC, objectification of the female body, pyromania, little bit of theft (smut to come)

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: I didn't need to have yet another idea for a story. I also didn't need to write it straight away, but I recently read Den of Vipers and figured I could do something better featuring the Triple Frontier boys. I don't know how many parts of this there will be, or how regularly this will ultimately be updated, but I thought I'd share anyway. Smut will come, featuring all four guys this time. This will use an ofc but apart from the hair, there aren't too many descriptors. This will also be written from multiple characters points of view throughout to keep things interesting. Enjoy!

ONE

PHEONIX

My fingers itch as I grip the steering wheel tighter. I should have worn gloves, I say to myself as I drop one hand from the wheel and rub it vigorously against my torn jeans, hoping the friction from the denim will- at the very least- satiate the itch left behind from the lighter fluid long enough for me to get to the next gas station, so I can stop in and wash my hands properly.

It was reckless of me really- the whole damn thing. My brothers taught me better than this, but then again, everyone said I had a temper that was only second to Archie’s in my family- so I’m really not that surprised. People say my Dad used to be equally hot headed before he got remarried to Marina and took over the club, but I’ve still yet to see it- even after all the shit me and my brothers have pulled over the years. It’s like after our Mother died he just gave up. But I don’t blame him. I would too if I lost the love of my life to a fucking disease like that. I had barely known her anyway, so I didn’t really notice all that much when the brain tumor turned her into a “literal monster”, as my older brothers used to so fondly call her when she was on one of her rampages.

I’d always said that my only real memory of her was when she tried to burn down the house by settling alight to the curtains in their bedroom. I remember we all stood out on the front grass as the smoke billowed out of the windows and mixed with the night air. Archie stood on my right holding one of my hands, E.Z stood on my left holding the other. Maybe that’s why I’ve always had a thing for fire myself. Messing about with lighters, setting things on fire- all so I can try and understand that night… At least, that’s what a therapist would probably say.

My Dad tried to make me go to one once, after I ended up burning down the whole science block at my school at 16, but alas, that never happened. Which is why I’m probably still using fire as a coping method after all these years.

My phone is blowing up by the time I reach the nearest gas station. I scan the messages from my brothers over quickly as I pull into the lot.

Deano: Heard what you did, I’d say he fucking deserved it.

Archie: Dad is pissed. Gonna try to calm him down before he does something stupid.

E.Z: Seriously, Phe, again! Dad is gonna be so pissed.

Leo: Just heard about your latest work, props little sis, I think your balls might be even bigger than Dean’s.

Rolling my eyes, I shove my phone in the glove box as it begins to buzz again. Uhh, I really don’t want or need a lecture right now about how I should or should not have acted upon finding my fiance in bed with another woman. Did I over react… by some people’s standards- maybe. But did I also live out every woman’s fantasy of dousing the bed in lighter fluid and striking a match whilst they were still in the bed… yes- yes I did- and do I give two fucks about any repercussions? Absolutely- fucking- not. Because there won’t be. Never have been. My Dad works for some of the most powerful men in the city- and I’m not talking about the Governor or the Mayor. No- someone will send some money over to keep them sweet and in a couple days time, everything will go back to normal.

I scrub at my hands with the shitty cheap soap in the tiny cubicle inside the gas station to the point the giant rock, still on my finger, almost slips off and down the drain. It’s the first time I’ve thought about it. I’ve been wearing it so long, it’s just an extension of my hand at this point. What am I gonna do with it? I mean- it’s worth a fucking fortune. Freddie was fucking loaded after all. None of it fucking his mind you. His Dad was a close business partner for the same guys my Dad worked for. Let’s just say, crime pays and his Dad has made so much money over the years working for Santiago Garcia and his crew, Freddie has never had to lift a single finger, let alone do a days work, to get what he wants.

I grab a handful of shitty paper towels, drying off my hands and the ring, holding it up to the fluorescent bathroom light. Uhhh it wasn’t even my style. I hate diamonds, they’re so basic and boring. Give me a massive fuck off ruby or saphire anyday. 

Still unsure what to do with it, I tuck it into the back pocket of my jeans before assessing how I look in the mirror. It’s like waking up from the weirdest dream and not recognising yourself. I look at my blonde hair in the mirror, the plain white t-shirt covering my breasts. I look like one of those young Barbie, trophy wife wannabe types. Where did the color and fun go? He drained it all out of me.

In college, when I met Freddie, I had pink in my hair and always had on something bright. At least my ripped jeans still have some character. 

Exiting out back onto the shop floor, I grab myself a large bag of cheetos and a cherry icee- that's as big as my head- from the machine in the back. As I place the large bag of cheesy puffs on the counter, I take a large sip of my drink, before placing that too on the counter, reaching for a pair of bright yellow heart sunglasses on a display next to the cashier.

“What d’ya think?” I ask the portly man behind the counter, who’s polo shirt doesn’t look or smell like it’s been washed for at least two weeks with its armpit stains and ranch dressing smear on the front.

It’s obvious he’s trying to come across as if he’s not checking out my whole body as he looks at me, but his eyes scan lower than my face, falling on the V neck of my t-shirt and my breasts for a hint too long. I flash him a sickly sweet smile as I take the sunglasses off my face and hook them into my shirt where his eyes seem to linger instead. “How about now?” I ask.

He quickly clears his throat as he looks back to the register. “Uhhh, yes- Yes- I think they suit you, yes.” he rambles and I can’t help but laugh. Men like that were always so predictable.

I reach for the icee taking another sip and try to school my features when I get brain freeze. “With the sunglasses,” he says, “16 bucks.” I sigh, but fish a couple notes out my back pocket and hand them over, just as my eyes land on a lighter covered in black and white harlequin print. My fingers instantly reach for it.

I turn the lighter over and over again in my fingers before flipping the top of it open and striking up a flame, my eyes getting lost in its amber glow as it sways hypnotically back and forth. It instantly takes me back to not 20 minutes ago and Fred and the girl’s screams, as the bed covers went up in flames and they both shot out from underneath them as he screamed about how much of a psycho I was. 

The ding of the till draw brings me back to the present and I flick the lighter closed. “Oh, and I’m taking this as payment for you oggling me.” I smile at the balding cashier, as I pocket the lighter and grab my bits off the counter.

I can hear him calling after me, “HEY, COME BACK HERE! YOU NEED TO PAY FOR THAT!” but I just laugh and take another sip of the slush and place the sunglasses back on my head.

As I walk back to my car, I notice a bum, sitting in the shade of the wall at the back corner of the station. As I look at him, I can feel the weight of the ring in my back pocket, dragging me towards him. Hey, the ring might not have changed my life, but it doesn’t mean it can’t change someone else’s life.

“Hey.” I say, lifting the yellow sunglasses on top of my head so I can meet his eyes. “Catch.” I toss him the ring. It sparkles as it hits the afternoon sun and I know from the look on his eyes as it makes contact with his fingers, he feels like he just won the lottery. “Pawn it. Get whatever you want with it, I don’t care.” I say as I begin to turn away from him and back to my car.

“Uh-thank you.” he says at first in shock, “Thank you.” he says again, a little more confidently now.

“Don’t mention it.” I shout back to him as I unlock my car with a chirp and climb back inside. 

I open the bag of cheetos, taking one and popping it in my mouth, before dumping them on the passenger seat and reaching to open the glove box, taking my phone back out.

7 more texts from my brothers and 5 missed calls from my Dad; with a final text saying:

DAD: Get your ass home. NOW!

Well, that does it then. I guess I’m going back to the old family home.

I start the engine, shuffling through the radio stations until I find something I like. When I hear the opening riff for Britney Spears’ Toxic, I stop and whack the volume all the way up. My tires screech as I speed out of the forecourt. I sing at the top of my lungs all the way home.

☆

I’m not through the door five seconds when E.Z is trying to usher me back out again. He’s always been the softer one. Third born. The middle child. Always overlooked, but still always trying to appease everyone.

“Dad is pissed.” He says, when he meets me in the foyer. After Mom tried to burn the house down, the place got remodeled. My Dad had to sell his soul to the devil to do it, but it meant we got to stay in our family home. Well, sort of. 

The whole left side of the house needed rebuilding, which meant they got to extend it out a bit more. We lost the basketball court the boys liked to play on, but it meant they finally got their own rooms so they didn’t mind. 

“I know.” I say to E.Z, waving my phone in his face with one hand, while I take a sip of my icee with the other. 

“Give me that.” He says, snatching the drink from my hand, the contents within the straw almost going everywhere as he rips it straight from my mouth. “This is serious Phe, Andy,” Freddie’s dad, “has already been on the phone making threats. You know how important he is for the business. He’s threatening to cut off the club’s supplies.”

“And….” I shrug, before reaching to take back the large cup in his hands. He merely moves it further out of my reach. “Look, I’m sure the guys who own the place have other connections he can use.”

“You sure about that?” My brother presses, raising his eyebrows and looming over me.

“Oh come on, you telling me those four wannabe goodfellas bozos, haven’t got some other dipshit on their payroll to import and export shit for them off record to help keep club costs down.” 

E.Z’s face is a picture. Eyes wide, face serious. It’s clear from his expression and his mouth that keeps gaping like a fish as he tries to get a word in, that he thinks I should shut up. “What!?” I hiss at him, but as I’ve been ranting and raving, I haven’t heard the second set of feet that have made their way through the front door into the foyer. E.Z’s face turns pale as he looks behind me to the figure and back.

“Oh no, don’t stop on my account.” A forced casual voice comes from behind me.

I turn my head and follow the voice to one of the most gorgeous men I have ever laid eyes on. All tanned skin and dark curly hair, a smattering of grays mixed in- the only hint to his age. I frown as a familiarity falls over me, but I can’t quite place from where. “I’m sorry- do I know you?”

He slides his fingers into his trouser pockets, his foot tapping slightly as he looks me up and down. “Oh you know, I’m just one of those bozos who’s now having to help clear up your mess.”

Before I have a chance to respond, my Dad and Archie step out of his office at the end of the hall. “PHEONIX!” My Dad’s voice bellows and I blanche, maybe that anger isn’t as far away as I thought. 

I turn away from the stranger in his Armani suit by the front door, to my Dad, flashing him my sweetest smile. “Hi, Dadd-”

“Uh- No!” He says, holding up a hand to stop me, “Don’t you dare-” He stops as he spots the other gentleman in the foyer. “Pope.” He says, his demeanor growing lighter as he greets the man who actually owns his ass.

“What kind of name is Pope?” I hiss to E.Z under my breathe, but he just nudges me to shut up.

“David… Archie…” Pope nods his head to the two men. “Shall we talk in your office.” He says, nodding back down the hall behind him.

“Uh- yes. Yes.” My Dad says nervously, turning his body to indicate for him to follow him back, before shooting me a stern look, telling me to behave and that this was far from over.

“Pheonix.” Pope nods to me as he passes, a faint smirk in the corner of his mouth and a look in his eye that I could only describe as fascination. But it quickly disappears again as he turns back to my Dad.

As the door to my Father’s office closes, my brother begins to ferry me towards the stairs. “I’d get up there and stay out of trouble if I were you.” He warns. 

I roll my eyes at him before I slip the yellow, heart shaped sunglasses, down over them with annoyance, snatching back my icee, before I stomp upstairs- as usual, out of sight, out of mind.

~

POPE

“Mr Garcia, I am so sorry for my daughters behavior. I really had thought she’d grown out of this,” David Leacher says, as I sit myself down in one of the leather armchairs in his office. “And I never thought she would do something like this that would put your well balanced business in jeopardy.”

I fain disinterest about the subject, because really, it doesn’t actually bother me all that much at all. Sure Andy is a bit pissed now on behalf of his son, but from what I hear, if you’re gonna go sneaking around behind your soon to be Mrs' back and she finds out, you kinda get what your asking for. To be fair, I gotta give the little lady props; it takes real guts to dump lighter fluid on a guy and strike the match, regardless of the consequences. 

“… I just don’t know what to do with her.” David says, slumping back in his chair behind his desk with a large glass of bourbon in his hand. 

“And this is why I never got married and had kids.” I say, giving him a tight lipped smirk. There’s an awkward pause between us, the only sound in the room, the ice clinking in David’s glass as he takes another nervous sip, his hand shaking slightly in anticipation, waiting for the slap on the wrist he thinks is about to come. “Look David, I’ll get to the point, Andy wants compensation for the money he’s already forked out for the wedding.” David puts his drink down and begins rubbing his temples as if this whole ordeal is giving him a headache. 

He sighs, turning to me, an earnest look in his eye, “Pope,” he says softly- imploringly- “you know I don’t have the money for that-“

“I know.” I say, cutting him off. “That’s why, we’ve decided to franchise Medusa’s. We are going to acquire two more clubs, you’ll get a pay rise and oversee all three venues, to help cover the costs. We get more money coming in through the clubs, you get more money to pay off Andy- everyone’s a winner.” 

The look of relief on David’s face is a picture. “Oh thank you, Pope- uh Mr Garcia.” He says, as his whole body seems to let out a very long breath that he had been keeping tight in his body, probably since the first call he got this afternoon about his daughter’s antics. “Thank you, thank you.” He seemingly pants.

“Look Dave, you’re a good guy- a loyal guy-“ I say honestly, “you work hard, you run Medusa’s well. Profits have been up 30% since you took over. I’m not gonna jeopardize that over some silly tiff between a couple kids.”

“No, no… thank you.” He says quietly, acknowledging my words as I continue to speak.

“Whether this had happened or not, we were going to come to you with this proposal this week anyway. Help you pay off your debt to us quicker too- you know.”

“Yes… thank you, Pope. Thank you.”

“Very well then.” I nod to him. “I’ll call Andy, let him know everything is settled.”

“Thank you, Pope, thank you.” He says again. 

David is a good man- a loyal man. He runs our most popular club well, but it was a real shame how soft he had gone in his old age. Ever since he lost his wife, he’s never been the same. Then he married that wannabe wag Marina- who does nothing but spend the rest of what little money he has coming in after he repays some of his debt to us- and walks all over him. Back in the day he had really made a name for himself bare knuckle boxing. They used to call him The Reaper because he could knock a man out with a single blow that brought a man close to death; but nowadays he’d barely hit a fly. This was yet another reason I never settled down and did the whole wife and kids thing- it made you soft.

Still didn’t stop his little girl from being as tough as nails and crazy to boot- but when the only female role models you had growing up were a Mother with a brain tumor that made her- to be polite- unhinged; and then Marina, it's no wonder she’s ended up as she has. She bounced around three different boarding schools in her teens. By the third school- after she had burnt down the science block at the second school- we had to write a fairly hefty donation cheque, in order to get her in. Just another number added to David’s bill to be repaid.

Although he had initially approached us looking for work in order to pay off his wife’s medical bills and then to redo the house after she had burnt half of it down, most of the money he’s borrowed from us over the years has been for Phoenix. Frankie, Will and myself have spent many a night around the table with a drink in our hands speculating on why he continues to bail her out and put himself in more debt to protect her. We’ve long come to assume it’s probably because of guilt. That she was robbed of a proper Mother. Cursed to have a weak Father. If she had been my kid, I would have tossed her ass out on the curb a long time ago and told her to deal with her own shit if she wanted to keep behaving the way she has over the years.

To be fair though, after she met Freddie, we thought she’d finally straightened out- or at least she had become Fred’s problem and he was dealing with it. She stopped going to the clubs. Started wearing more grown up clothing that matched her age. Began running with Freddie and his older friends. But I guess it was only a matter of time and you know what they say- a leopard never changes their spots.

I’m halfway to the door, ready to leave, when David stops me. “Umm, Pope.” He says tentatively. I slowly turn myself back to him, ready to hear his request, even though he’s in no place to be making requests right now after I’ve just bailed his ass out for the fifteenth time. “I was just wondering…” he continues hesitantly, “seeing as Phoenix and Freddie are no longer together, she’ll probably need an actual job of her own now…” I can almost feel myself rubbing at my temples, knowing the question that was about to come out of his mouth. It’s the same question that had come when all of his son’s came of age and needed a job… but this time is different- and we both know it.

Phoenix isn’t like her brothers. Where they are able to be mature and step up and follow orders, she most definitely can not. I’ve seen enough of her school reports over the years to know what kind of employee she’d be. When David had asked about getting the boys jobs, it had been a no brainer. Each one of them had a build similar to their father in his hay day, perfect for a bit of muscle and extra protection in the club. But a job in Medusa’s for Phoenix would be behind the bar- and I know for a fact she’d sooner pour herself shots of liquor and dance on that bar than stand back and serve everyone else whilst they had a good time.

I already know I’m going to regret this when I finally climb into my bed at the end of the night, “She gets one chance.” I say. “One chance.” I hold up my index finger to him for emphasis.

“Thank you, Pope. I promise she won’t let you down.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I mutter to myself, my thumb and forefinger rubbing at my eyes in both irritation and exhaustion, as I finally leave the room. I give Archie a brief nod of acknowledgement as he sees me back out to my car.

I'm about to climb back in when he says, "I know you didn't have to do that, but he needed that, you know. He needs that hope that she'll be okay."

I only give him a nod as I look up to the row of upstairs windows and back to him, "We'll see." I say. "We'll see."

-----------------------------------

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[osbcrne]

angelmaker

okay so season 1 episode 5 of hannibal is such a fucking important episode. just as will sees his transformation lead by the stag, i feel like it was hannibal's words he heard when he hallucinated the angelmaker in S1e5. Angelmaker says, "I see what you are. i can bring it out of you." will replies "not all the way out," as if he's foreshadowing the internal part of him that remains in denial that he thinks what hannibal does is beautoful- up until close to the end. angelmaker replies by saying "i can give you the majesty of true becoming." and he sees will's head on fire, just like he did when he saw the wanted criminals.

Hannibal can see the darkness in wills and wants to bring him out, that's what the stag represents and that is why hannibal continues to push will to his limits- to show will what he is by framing him. Will gets angry and blames it on hannibal but then when manipulating hannibal to get back at him, realizes oh shit i actually like being evil. hannibal's plan worked all along, even though will was in denial and initially refused hannibal's gift even though he really did actually want it. because despite that, wills was able to see the beauty in what hannibal does.

and not only does this episode foreshadow hannibal's intentions, it sets up hannibal's knowledge will's encephilitis by showing hannibal smelling the cancer on bella, so viewers can infer that hannibal smells a disease on will. this is further backed up by the angelmaker having a brain tumor. this one episode sets up 2 fucking plot lines and forshadows to like literally the end of the show, and also mizumono. you're KIDDING.

(i love how this blog is mainly an art blog but it is also becoming a place for me to autism info dump my in depth hannibal analysis on yall)

[theindescribable1]

Getting Better!

Tw: A vent

. . . But with a happy ending!

((LONG LONG READ...eat some popcorn while you're reading. Idk, uhh enjoy? I cried writing this so it might be sad))

BUT WITH A HAPPY ENDINGGG!

The Bad Stuff:

If you've known me for a while, you'd know that I have been dealing with some rather intense depression and anxiety. I spent a good chunk of my young childhood feeling down and sad all day, I had trouble sleeping, I had issues. I kept all my feelings bottled up for years, it only made me feel angry and I was rude to people I loved. I spent most of my days alone in my room, never wanting to be around my family. I think my depression started getting worse when I was 8 or so? My sister was diagnosed with a brain tumor, she had cancer. I thought she'd die, I was so scared and in so much sorrow. My parents brushed my aside for a few years while my sister battled cancer. I wasn't really a main priority, I felt like I didn't matter anymore. Everything started to be all about my sister, I felt more alone then ever. My parents spent all day with my sister, treating me almost like I didn't matter for the time being. After my sister successfully beat Cancer, it felt like things were never fair for me. She never got in trouble, I always got the blame for things, she never really had to work or do any chores, but I did. It all just felt like favoritism. It made me feel less loved, less respected, and I just couldn't tell my parents how I was feeling. I felt a hate towards my parents, they didn't find ways to praise me, or give me a simple "good job" I just wanted some slight praise, someone to tell me I'm doing good. It seemed as if my parents never cared for the good I did, but they cared when I got something wrong. They scolded me for doing something wrong, it made me feel as if I had to be perfect, as if I couldn't make a single mistake. I believed that I didn't matter to them, I believed that no one would miss me when I'm gone. That's when the suicidal thoughts came in, I would think to myself; "I am unloved, what's the point of even trying? Carrying on in a world where I just don't matter.." And I would see myself committing acts of suicide, I thought about what would happen. What just made things worse was how hard I found it to make friends, it seemed like no one gave me a chance. Every school I went to, I was always made the subject of fun. I never did anything to deserve it! I did nothing wrong! Why was it always me? Why did everybody just naturally hate me? I was left out if every single friend group, I was never included in projects, I never had a partner to work with, I was always the last one picked to be in a team, everyone always just treated me like dirt. I just wanted to die, for so long I just wanted to leave this unfair and cruel planet. I just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. I was always so stressed, lonely, keeping everything bottled up, telling everyone that I was ok. Keeping everything to myself just gave me headaches, anxiety, stress, anger, and I just couldn't keep my anger to myself. It was becoming more and more difficult. School has always been so difficult for me, bullies, crappy teachers, and I never understood what they were teaching. The entire class was always ahead of me, I never knew how to do anything! I felt so stupid and I had no one to ask for help, I procrastinated every single thing... so many thoughts ran through my head; "I'm so stupid. I'm a loser. No one loves me. I have no friends. Everyone just hates me. Why me why me why me? I just don't want to be here anymore..." All my life up to now, I have always been brushed aside and left with my fake smile. I tried to talk to my parents about what is happening with me, but the first time I tried my mom said; "You don't have depression. You really don't! Just because you feel sad ONCE doesn't mean you're depressed! Look at all that you have! You have nothing to be sad about." It doesn't matter what I have, it matters how I feel! I felt sad and lonely all the time, all day, all night. I was scared to tell my parents again because I just thought they'd brush it aside as me just being "dramatic" and on top off aaaalll of this, my grandpa died and it caused lots of pain.

Things Start Getting Brighter:

I was at a doctor's appointment when I decided that I'd try again... I explained everything to my mom and she started to cry and gave me a big hug. She told me that she'll sign me up for a therapist! That's when I saw hope, a light at the end of a long dark tunnel. I thought to myself; "I'll get better...I'm going to be healed. I'm going to be ok. I'm finally help." After that day, my family started spending time with me, they came into my room more and gave me love. I felt happier, but still not cured- eventually I went in to the first session of counseling! My dad sat next to me for the first couple minutes while the counselor talked to him, I heard him say at one point that he was proud of me, and I couldn't hold back tears. Its because I don't hear those words much...I feel as if no one ever tells me that they are proud of me. . After my dad left, I immediately started to blurt out EVERYTHING. I just went off telling the counselor all the past things, I burst out into tears. I let everything out of the bottle. She could almost immediately diagnose me with some rather intense depression. She gave me advice, things to do, and since then I got a bit better..

So Close To Happiness:

I started to work on loving myself, treating myself to good things! I talked to myself positively! Then I decided I should restore bonds with my family but starting some family game nights and movie nights! Me and my family would play some games together on Wednesday, and movies on Friday! As of right now, I'm in a D & D campaign with my family, uncle, and my uncle's friend! Its going great so far, I'm having fun! I'm getting much closer to my family, I feel loved! I feel appreciated! My family plain as day care about me. I love them, they love me. And I started socializing more, I talked to more people, made a friend group, and I began to hang out with more family outside of my main family of 4. I talked to my cousins more often and got much closer to Carol! I had an online friend who I liked to call Goblin, and we decided to meet in real life. Once they gave me their address, I realized. . .We're neighbors!!!?? We lived in the same neighborhood, so I ran over to their house and they ran out the door, we greeted each other in a fit of laughter. We were online friends for 2 or so years and never knew we were 3 or so minutes away from each other! They are also know as The GGT is that's familiar to you! I was less of an introvert, I had more fun, more friends, many more happy memories! Oh and it got great when I got a lil app called Tumblr. I socialized even more and started getting to doing art! I had a goal, to be popular, to ve somebody of slight importance... well I've just got to say. . Thank you for over 700 followers! I love you all so much and you made my dreams come true! You are all my motivation, my reason to keep on going, my great friends! All of youuuu! I love you all so much! And to this day, I haven't felt really sad, alone, unhappy, I haven't thought about ending my life, in fact...I WANT to live, I want to keep on waking up. I want to continue to see the sun everyday, I want to continue on! I don't want to leave, life is beautiful to me now, I see the good in it all, I know that God has good plans for me, and I will wait for paradise, not skip right to it. I want to live every second of my life, I want to continue to love, laugh, smile, and be will those who love me. I want to accomplish my dreams, to have a good life with many memories.

I love you all, and if you are dealing with some bad things, just remember that there is always someone to talk to, to love you, to understand you.. And I'm one of those! You can talk to me, I'll understand you, and I will always do whatever I can to help you. Live your life, its beautiful...I used to see it has painful, lonely, unfair, dark, and depressing...but truly it isn't. Life is beautiful, and so are all of you.

Stay alive, I love you. I love you all.

[warsamongthestars]

Okay, now its not just my grievances, but legit "what the fuck are you on about" and "What the fuck are you doing" with the TBB Writing.

( Sadly, I was Xpecting something like this. )

S3 - Howzer said something about Crosshair killing some of his squad. On screen, we all saw the episode, they were arrested. We saw no execution. I'll get to why this is an issue.

S3 - Where the fuck did you get AZI again? Did you kill Cid off screen? Wouldn't that call for a, umn, Fucking episode?

S3 - Crosshair is told of Tech's death... Off Screen. Y'know, the death of your batchmate, the closest you have to Brother-Squadmate-Best Friend Foreveries, is kinda of a big fucking deal. y'know? Big enough that, by showing the death of that Squadmate, you generally want to show the IMPACT of an IMPORTANT CHARACTER'S DEATH to the AUDIENCE. But no. There really wasn't, was there. Maybe a line here or two, but is that the kind of impact you want to the important character? 2 Lines?

Don't get me started on the "Blame the VIctim' shit. I'll get there.

S2 - Echo randomly Leaves... and then Randomly appears. So, an Important Character Leaves... Out of the blue. Y'know, if your important main character is going elsewhere, you generally want Set Up. If I can point out how Butterfree from the Old Pokemon Anime, had the saddest Epsiodes in existence--simply because he Left. But then I see Echo's and I'm going "Where the fuck did this come from", there's a Problem. And then he randomly appears again like... Why did you even leave if you were going to Come Back. Where the fuck are the conversations here, that actually walk the audience through the Character's thought processes?

S2 - Crosshair was apparently on the Platform or a Month. ... HOW? Seriously, How, that thing would sink without a ship, we saw it rise up for a ship. Kamino is infamously, in lore, for 2 decades now, Stormy as Shit. And who picked him up. Did he fucking teleport back to the Empire? Wouldn't that call for an Episode so that we can see what the fuck is going on?

S1 - Crosshair's Chip So a Tweet from Xitter, is apparently more important than placing what you want in your fucking story. And more, You show that this Chip was Enhanced, repeatedly, it GREW IN HIS BRAIN THIS WAS ON EPISODE 1, and suddenly, NOPE not there not effects no idea what you're talking about. THAT CHIP IS A BRAIN TUMOR, FOOL. So instead all those evil actions, caused yb the chip that was GROWN IN HIS BRAIN BY AT LEAST 3 SIZES, apparently were just CROSSHAIR ALL ALONG--WHAT BRAIN TUMOR. Do you see where I'm calling Victim Blaming.

S1 - Omega is Older! Cool. Where is this going to be relevant. why would we need to know? Its been over a season now, why is this fucking important. She met Emerie in late S2! Emerie is a clone now, how come she didn't know about that. Clearly this wasn't fucking important.

S1 - At no point did they talk about their missing batchmate. SO YOU'RE JUST SILENT ABOUT YOUR BATCHMATE, YOUR SUPER IMPORTANT CHARACTER YOU LITERALLY GREW UP WITH, WHO HAD YEARS WITH YOU, AND YOU'RE JUST NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT. If its not on Screen in front of the Audience, it Didn't Fucking Happen.

S1 - Episode 1 Now for the Meat. The start of all this shit. Overwhelming amount of "Guest star" characters, Guest start being "any other famous Star Wars character that isn't the Main Characters". An introduction to a kid character, one that is a Super Duper early 2000s Fanfic.net Totally Original Character Donut Steel. Who's... there to take importance away from the other characters. Repeatedly teasing the Chip, but no confrontation of Crosshair. Repeated shooting at Children, and no confrontation of Crosshair--arguably more important th an the above. That is definitely a What the Fuck Man, and it happened din the first Five minutes and nobody did jack shit. No trust or conversations between characters who are "Batch-mates"--implied in Star Wars to be the closest thing to family, and given the battlefield nature, would have to communicate behind closed doors or they might Die on Mission... No Communication has been had in 3 fucking years--expect to make Hunter or Omega right in every situation. A lot of talking, not a lot of doing or showing.

This episode only works, if you are not here for the Bad Batch. Because the writers have not done anything to the Bad Batch but cause problems that weren't needed, solutions that don't matter, because the problems are unneeded. They do not allow the BBs to Talk To Each Other (If its not on screen where the audience can see it, it didn't happen). Clear character derailment for a Fanfic.Net OC. And S3 shows evidence of AI writing. Conversations without context, shallow (if not insulting) character development in the face of Very Important Topics (Such as Family Member Death and Tumors / Drugging / Cult Manipulation), events that don't make sense in the telling.

( They have the animation budget to show things, and then they don't. They have the money to craft this, and they're not. )

S2 showed the same issue.

Unfortunately, we did see this coming since the Writing Strikes.

( Addendum, post-posting edit--sorry, I had to take these steps just in case, cos rage blinds me. )

So now, Clarification without all the swearing and general fan-rage.

They would see the victim blame himself and be blamed by the story, than take the steps to examine the problem They Clearly Showed, and instead decided to ignore the problem that Caused all this... And it is Victim blaming, because other characters have experienced the same problem, but are totally forgiven because its "not their fault".

THey would rather have characters walk in and out at random, diminishing if not removing the impact those characters have. Nothing Echo does now is of importance because they're barely showing it, and not dedicating time to Echo to build either his new posiion or his leaving--and they barely dedicated character time to Echo, by leaving him as the "bitch side character". The same goes with Tech, Tech's death has no impact anymore because they are ignoring it, maybe dedicating 1 or 2 lines and maybe a small moment of drama, but ultimately the impact is gone because they are not dedicating any real focus to it.

They would rather tell you what "actually happened"... when on review, what they just said didn't happen at all. If you do not show the audience what is in your story, then your story is literally hearsay. And in this day of AI writing, this context defiance has to be caught.

There are writing problems here that wouldn't have happened with a dedicating writing team. And there are more dedicated writers in the fandom, than there is in the Multbillion Dollar Publishing Corporation...

... and that is a Problem, because if you're being paid to do this and have a team, shouldn't this be seamless?

[awkward-tension-art]

Puppet on a String Chp.7 (Fives x Reader)

Chapter 6. Chapter 8.

Stuck

CW: Fives x Reader, Reader is a medical practitioner, angst, swearing, Death mention, Running from authorities, Mentions of dead characters, Inhibitor chip arc, self-blame, Nala Se being cruel,

Tag list (Thank you!): @spicydonut25 @amazonian-bae @notgonnaedit @tentakelspektakel @bimboshaggy

You didn’t have time to mourn before Nala Se was demanding your arrest. The both of you were  thrown into a quarantine room under droid observation while Shaak Ti discussed with the Chancellor what to do with the tumor.  

“I’m sorry, Fives.” your voice was barely a whisper, “I’m sorry.” 

He sighed, interlocking his fingers with yours, “It's not your fault, mesh’la.”

You swallowed, raising your free hand to stroke his cheek. Gently, you turned his head to face you so you could give him a tender kiss.

Just as the two of you broke away, the door to the quarantine chamber hissed open. Shaak Ti stepped inside with Nala Se behind her. In the Jedi’s hand was the tumor. She didn’t comment on your closeness with the ARC trooper.

Your lover perked up, “General, what did the Chancellor say?”

“Supreme Chancellor Palpatine wants the tumor and all of the intel gathered sent to the Grand Republic Medical Facility on Coruscant.” She answered calmly, walking passed the examination table to an open case behind the both of you.

The clone nodded, “So then I'll be going to Coruscant as well?”

She placed the tumor in the case gently before turning, “You were not a part of the Chancellor's request,” Her lavender eyes settled on you, “You, Doctor, were, however. He’d like for you to go through all the data collected. He admitted he is no scientist, and would like you to break the information down for him.”

Your eyes widened, the Chancellor requested you? Immediately, you were anxious, “I…oh..yes! I’d be honored to.” Truthfully, you’d really hate looking like a moron in front of him.

“Thank you, doctor.” She nodded in appreciation, “We must discuss everything before we part, as there is still so much we do not know.

“Perhaps we would know more if these two had not taken matters into their own hands.” Nala Se snarked with as much emotion as she could put into her cold voice. 

Your hackles were raised, but Fives snapped first, “Listen! We were trying to save our friend!”

The Kaminoan whirled her small head to meet the ARC troopers eye, “And yet perhaps by removing this tumor, it was you who killed him.”

“False,” You broke into the argument, “The tumor’s necrosis had spread to healthy brain tissue. If I had been allowed to perform the necessary treatments sooner, Tup would still be alive.” 

The Jedi frowned, “So you blame us for your friend's death?” She sounded surprised by such a revelation. Maybe even a little hurt. 

Your silence was your answer and you looked away from her. 

She sighed, “We will know more soon. I want this specimen and all the data prepared for transit to the Jedi Temple. Doctor, you will speak with the Jedi council about your findings and diagnosis.”

Your eyes went wide and before you could speak, Nala Se cut in, “The Chancellor said the tumor and data was to be sent directly to the Medical Facility on Coruscant, not the Jedi Temple.”

“And it will get there, but after the Jedi have run an analysis on it first.” Shaak Ti’s steady voice was unwavering. She was finally on your side. 

Too late, you thought bitterly.

“I protest. I must personally deliver the tumor to the Chancellor as ordered.” The Kaminoan scientist argued. 

“You can protest all you want. My word is final.” The Jedi shot her down quickly. 

The doors hissed open again and another Kaminoan stood in the doorway with two armed guards.

Kindly, The togruta put a hand on your lover's shoulder and gave him a small smile, “You have one more physical to pass. If you are cleared, you will be sent back to the 501st.” She reassured him, “As for you, Doctor, we need to discuss what to say to the Jedi Council.”

You looked to Fives and he nodded with a small smile, “I’ll be back.” He squeezed your hand and let go to follow the other scientist. However, before he left, he looked back at you. 

You returned his smile but stopped, noticing his eyes narrowed at something behind you. You were about to speak before he stepped towards you and gave you a rather…passionate kiss, taking you off guard. 

“My my…” Shaak Ti sounded like she had a smirk on her face.

Nala Se let out an exasperated huff.

Once he pulled back, he had a proud smirk, “I’ll see you later, mesh’la.” 

The door closed behind him and you cleared your throat, “Uh…um…shall we…discuss things, General?”

The both of you left the quarantine room, and began to walk through the sterile, white halls of Kamino. Nala Se was behind you as you walked.

After a few moments of silence, Shaak Ti spoke up, “I apologize for my inaction,” She said as she stared ahead, “I trusted Nala Se’s judgment. But I should have been open to yours as well.” The calm General put a hand on your shoulder, “However, I find your tenacity and determination over your patients admirable.” 

Oh…Jedi were rather humble. 

“I don’t mean to blame you,” You mumbled quietly, “I’ve just…so many clones don't have an advocate for their health. Tup needed a voice, and I just wish my voice had been enough to save him.”

“Your voice was enough.” She answered, continuing to walk, “As a Jedi, I am supposed to look at the different possibilities in any given situation. Find a solution that doesn’t cost lives. This time, I had gotten too complacent in Kamino’s protocol. And for that, I am sorry.”

How the hell are you supposed to stay mad at her?

“I…” You sighed, unsure if you should speak to her about your worries. 

She seemed to read you easily, “There is still something on your mind.”

That wasn’t a question. She clocked you.

Should you…tell her?

Fives trusted her. Enough to kiss you in front of her, it seemed. And you trusted Fives…

One glance back at Nala Se and you shook your head, “Nothing. Just…thinking of Dr.Mila.” you lied, “She could have saved Tup…”

The togruta didn’t seem convinced, but she nodded, “She was a talented doctor. One who was taken from us far too-.”

Her words were cut off by an alarm triggering. The hallways were flooded in nothing but crimson light as Kamino went on lockdown. Shaak Ti grabbed your wrist, “Stay close.” She commanded you, and you did so. 

Nala Se turned to the droid and spoke something, though it was too low to hear properly. The droid gave her the case and floated down the hall where you had just come from. The little robot was shoved to the side by two guards running towards Shaak Ti. 

“General, the ARC trooper had attacked his escort and run with a surgical droid.” The one on the left stated, “We think he's trying to escape Kamino.” He wore a kama, most likely an officer. 

“What? Why!?” You asked before the Jedi could, “Fives wouldn’t do that without reason.”

“It doesn’t matter. We need to find him.” Nala Se snapped. 

Shaak Ti agreed with a nod, “He’d most likely go to the main hangar. Come on!”

You ran with the group, following them to the best of your ability. The Jedi and her officer were taking the lead, making several sharp turns and going through too many doors to get to the hangar.

The last door opened to the main hangar and you were instantly smacked with the smell of the stormy ocean outside. You paused to take in the surroundings when the officer shouted and pointed, “There they are!”

Without thinking, you ran forward, followed by Shaak Ti, Nala Se and the other guards. 

“Fives!” You called to him as he ran up the ramp into one of the Kamino transport ships. 

He paused to look at you, brown eyes wide and worried. Before he disappeared onto the ship, he mouthed something to you. 

The tumor.

Your steps slowed as the engines booted up and the spheric ship kicked to life. It lifted quickly and burst forward, flying out of the hanagar. You didn’t watch, instead, your eyes were on the case that was still in Nala Se’s hands. 

Shaak Ti and the others ran past you, getting outside to watch the aircraft leave the compound. “I want him brought in alive.” She commanded her guards, “Have that ship tracked.” 

Without thinking, you dashed forward, “I’ll protect this!” You ripped the case out of the Kaminoans hands. She instantly tried to argue with you, but you opened it before she could say anything.

Empty.

“Where's the tumor, Nala Se!?” You slammed the case closed and whirled to glare at her, “You were in charge of the case! You’ve had it since we left the exam room!”

Fives must have seen her take it. That’s why he ran.

Your outburst got the General's attention, “The specimen is gone?” 

“The clone must have stolen it!” The Kaminoan tried to reason. 

“That’s impossible, we had eyes on him the entire time!” you shouted back, “The only way the tumor is missing is if you purposely switch the cases!”

“I did no such thing!” The Kaminoan huffed, “You must’ve taken it! I demand this Doctor be searched!” 

“These petty arguments need to stop!” Shaak Ti snapped, finally losing her patience, “I want these two separated. I will question them myself.”

Your hands were behind your back and you were thrown into another quarantine room without another word.  You paced, angry, impatient and uncomfortable once you were alone.

Fives was out there. The man you loved was out there, on the run. 

Your lover needed you. He needed support. You had to help him! But you were stuck in this room, waiting to be questioned like a criminal.

What the hell were you supposed to do!?

As you paced back and forth, it became clear that you were trapped. You knew the guard at the door was standing steadfast and unwavering. His rifle was most likely in hand, poised to kill if needed.

You were stuck, unable to help the one you love.

All because of fucking Nala Se!

You were about to give up when you heard a shifting noise above you. You looked up, tense and ready when the vent cover jerked and moved. From the inner workings of Kamino, Fives leapt down followed by AZ-3.

“Fives!” You barely repressed your shout into a whisper. Your arms were around him in a tight embrace before he even blinked. His clothes were soaked and you could smell the ocean on him. But right now, you didn’t care.

His warm lips peppered your face in greeting, “Mesh’la! I’m so glad you're ok.” He pulled back to hold your face, “You're not hurt, are you?” The ARC trooper let out a relieved breath when you shook your head. 

“What the fuck happened, Fives?” You finally asked him, “I know Nala Se switched the cases, but why'd you run? If you spoke to Shaak Ti-”

“I think she’s being manipulated,” Fives responded, “Nala Se is hiding something. I think you’re right. She's responsible for the deaths of your colleagues. She’s responsible for your attack.” Your lover sounded so certain of his words, “No, we need to investigate ourselves.”

You nodded, grabbing his hands in your own, “I’m with you, love.” 

The ARC trooper gave you his signature grin before kissing you again. Once he pulled back, his eyes were on the door, “First, I need a change of clothes.” 

You smirked, “I have an idea.”

[captainimfangirling]

Gen V Episode 4

Was it just me or was Gen V episode 4 too damn short? It just ended abruptly. What are your theories?

My theory and review (spoilers)

At the end I think a psychic supe made them forget everything that happened and they're slowly going to put the pieces together. Because Jordan and Marie in bed together at the end I am going to assume Jordan might be in on it. I mean, I don't think they mean to do any harm but probably thinks it's the only way to protect Marie and their friends. I am going to assume the doctor had the power to do this. In a way I want Jordan to be part of it because villain x hero ships are my thing.

Not gonna lie Sam is scary but at the same time I feel bad for him. He's like the Hulk but doesn't transform. At first I was into Emma and Sam but now I'm not so sure. I know it's not Sam's fault but still he's dangerous.

That guy fucking every hole was hilarious! I almost spit out my drink! I tried to Google if anything like that does happen to people but nothing came up. I've read some tumors in the brain can cause people to do or day weird things but never heard of something like that. To be honest he reminded me of a super Sherlock Holmes. The Dean handled herself pretty well. She actually reminds me of Stillwell in a way. Human but brutal.

Don't think I can look at Jack the same way ever again after seeing Alexander Calvert's dick. But anyway go Marie for defending herself from a rapist.

I'm glad Andre is standing up for what is right. Sadly if the ending went the way I think it did he's going to forget his bravery. Not sure how I feel about Cate in this episode. I feel like she was just there to tell Andre he was a idiot for not listening to her. If the doctor wasn't the one responsible for the ending I'm going to assume it was Cate. Maybe she has a bigger power we don't know about.

But overall episode 4 wasn't as fun as the first 3 but I'm blaming the episode being too short and every romantic relationships developing way too fast.

[miloouch]

BLUE GENESIS - PROLOGUE

Sini Aliz, a 19 years old girl is gifted the opportunity of a lifetime.

-

TW: mention of alcohol, mention of death, mention of deadly disease (cancer).

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A/N: Hello people from Tumblr! Here I am, presenting you my first ever work published on the internet. It is only the prologue for now but the first chapter will see the light in probably two or three days. I've planned for this fic to be a romance story between Neteyam and the protagonist. I also plan to add a tad bit of angst and mayyybe a little bit of smuty content. Of course there will be plenty of interactions with other members of the Sully family so it won't only be a one on one story.

I've put a lot of effort into this work and I really hope you'll take pleasure as you read it. I would be more than happy to hear any feedback as it is always useful.

I thank you for you interest.

Enjoy!

-

PS: English is not my first language and I apologize in advance for any spelling/grammatical errors.

Word count: 1,043.

-

2163, Earth.

Sini had always been perceived as an outcast or a troublemaker by society, never really fitting in and spending her life by herself on the desolated planet the Earth had became. She was different in some ways. Some visible, like her heterochromia that gave her one brown eye while the other was green. Some invisible, just the same as the deadly disease she had carried around for the past four years of her life.

She had been diagnosed with lung cancer when she was only fifteen, the pollution of the ambient city air bringing various viruses and deadly diseases that had killed numerous humans.

She was on her treatment at first, hoping for remission, but about seven months ago the doctors who were in charge of her informed that her cancer had reached its final stage, the tumors slowly shutting her body down day by day. Sini's hope for survival all crushed and whipped away in an instant.

Since that day, she lived even more carelessly than she ever had before, going out every time she wanted to feel alive.

Tonight was no different as she was seated at the bar she went to anytime she wanted to get shit faced. Anytime she wanted to forget she could possibly not wake up the following day.

She had already downed a few shots, her brain feeling fuzzy and her surroundings blurry. She was quietly enjoying her alone time, sipping on yet another shot when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She redirected her attention as she turned around on the bar stool to face the person behind her.

It was an old man, probably in his mid sixties, with greyish hair and a warm smile. Behind him was also a younger lady who was maybe in her late thirties or early fourties. She also displayed a kind smile as she looked at the seated girl. The man slightly cleared his throat before speaking.

"Sini Aliz?" He asked, only receiving a timid nod from her.

"I'm Dr. Armand Katz and she's Dr. Sage Garcia." He introduced the two of them, moving to the side to give his colleague some more space.

"We would like to talk to you in private if you'd allow to use some of your time." Armand explained.

Without saying a word, Sini got up from the stool, the dizziness caused by the alcohol in her system making it somewhat hard for her to keep a solid balance as she was feeling tipsy.

She followed the two outside the bar as they made their way to a dead end street not far from their previous location. As they came to a stop, the doctors turned around, facing her once more.

"So what do you two want?" She bluntly asked, blaming the alcohol for the rude demeanor she had just displayed. She was usually not the sweetest person to be around and the drinking only made it worse.

Sage let out a small huff of amusement at the girl's question before giving her an answer.

"We'd like you to be a part of our scientific program." The woman explained, earning an intrigued look from Sini before continuing.

"We've heard of your condition and we'd like to offer you a golden opportunity for remission. A new life." She said as Armand slowly nodded his head in approval.

Sini furrowed her eyebrows. How the hell could they offer her remission? She had no idea who they were. Yet, they seemed to know everything about her, from her name to the disease that slowly killed her even though she had kept that a secret. Despite her hesitation, curiosity got the best of her and it was the time to ask another question.

"What's this so called 'golden opportunity' that you have to offer me?" She interrogated the two, her bicolor gaze fixed on them.

Armand took a few steps forward before answering the question.

"We are part of the Avatar Program. Us and a few other scientists will be going to Pandora to study the flora and fauna of the said planet." He spoke.

Sini had heard about the Avatar Program while she was in the hospital, undergoing her intense treatment to cure her cancer. She had been so intrigued by the expedition that she had spent most of her stay studying and learning about Pandora and its inhabitants. She had also read about Jake Sully, the man who had earned the respect of the Na'vi people and became one of them. She had learned about the war the humans and the natives had fought, Sully going against his own race and siding with the clan and staying on Pandora once it was all over. That was a story that had always fascinated her.

Snapping back to reality, she focused back on the scientists and then asked another question.

"How does that program could possibly cure me from my cancer though?" She thought out loud, a wondering pattern plastered on her face. Armand and Sage gave her a small smirk before he answered the question.

"We want to offer you spot as one of the Avatar who will be on our team. We will provide you with a new body, a healthy one. An avatar of your own." He paused and turned his head to his colleague, allowing the woman to continue with the information.

"For this physical trade to occur we'd have to collect everything that you are and place it in the Avatar body. That means you'd have to die." She said, a persistent gaze fixed on the younger girl that stood in front of them.

Sini hummed as she took in the information. She would have to die?

She had thought of her death countless times in the past four years. She knew the remaining time she had being alive was like a ticking bomb, ready to explode and destroy everything. But now things seemed different.

She felt like she finally had the opportunity to be in control of the situation. The freedom she felt from it was so grand, she felt overwhelmed.

She looked forward at the two individuals who were waiting for a response from her.

"I'm in." She blurted out, the excitement clear in her voice.

[eddiegettingshot]

Honestly so far this season has just messed with all my eddie hc, which isn’t a problem in andof itself, it just basically means i’m having to look at him now and ask who the hell this character actually is, and idk yet if i enjoy him as much as i have previous seasons. And i also have to question if this is me having totally misinterpreted who he was from the beginning, or if the writers are actually writing him differently this season for some reason? Like i love seeing eddie happy, but the happiness he’s exuded this season has just been really out of nowhere and almost aggressively in your face. Like why did he ask marisol to move in when he’s had no more development with her than he did with ana, and being with her caused him to have literal panic attacks? That makes no sense?? The way he acted in 704 was so out of nowhere too, and i know it’s theorized that it’s just from buck’s perspective, but how do we know that for sure? Because he’s obviously been acting kind of careless after that too, especially with shannon’s doppelganger whose name i forgot atm sorry. And to me that’s the ONE instance i actually completely understand him acting so differently, because like how the hell is he supposed to act in a situation like that?? I completely understand him behaving erratically after that, but why did they write him like that before that too then?

Idk, like i said, maybe i’ve misinterpreted him all along, or maybe the writers are cooking up something truly incredible here, but as of right now i’m thinking it’s just odd writing tbh. It feels like they’ve moulded his personality to fit all these different storylines rather than working those storylines around his natural personality. Like i actually refuse to believe he’d ask marisol to move in and then back out like that. Maybe it’s bcs of the shortened season ig. Anyway, i think it’s why i feel like i’ve lost my grip of him this season somehow…

I really, really hope they make it work in the end, but i’m genuinely wondering how they will do that. Like at this point only a brain tumor would make sense to me, but i don’t think they’re gonna do that lmao

yeah honestly anon idk what to tell you LOL my strategy with this season is to basically pretend whatever happened for eddie (and buck/hen to an extent) didn’t happen and the end result is all im paying attention to. it’s not you, the writing for eddie has been TERRIBLE and careless thus far this season, at least after 7x01. we’ll see how things go but the 7x05 plotline seems to just be a throwaway lmfao (and no like … he IS impulsive but he’s never had a problem with moving fast in relationships in the past and he certainly would not do any of that). 7x04 i do think is very much from buck’s pov (tim confirmed this but also eddie is back to being normal with tommy in 7x06). i really do not understand what’s going on with eddie either and i think that’s part of what’s making the season so unenjoyable 🤷🏾‍♀️ i can’t blame you

[horsetailcurlers2]

YET ANOTHER long and obnoxious stream of my thoughts while watching greys anatomy for the first time (SEASON 16 bc i decided i will try to catch up to you guys who are awaiting S20)

-tom koracick, despite all outward appearances, is far too nice

-bailey pisses me off sometimes bc she usually isn’t wrong, but within the parameters of how everyone behaves on the show, her decisions feel wrong, yk? like irl absolutely she should have fired them without a doubt. but in this soapy medical show in which everyone commits malpractice five times a week, it feels like she’s overreacting lmao. does that make any sense?

-meredith in her community service outfit is kind doing something to me

-a man on a scooter just ran into maggie and amelia’s car and it startled me so bad i drew blood with my cross-stitching needle!

-lisa ann walter!! and charmed cast in the same ep!

-bailey and i are beefing actually

-do NOT have another affair, richard webber

-“how come my mom hasn’t called from sleepover community service?” sleepover community service PLS

-a lumineers song in the background!!! the music is good again

-why is owen pulling this bullshit again!!!!!!!!!!

-bailey is making me so fucking mad right now. she has no room to act morally superior considering some of the shit she’s pulled. she also continues to have this attitude that meredith should owe her something for being her teacher…. which is sort of valid but let’s not pretend that bailey doesn’t owe meredith quite a bit too. idk again it’s one of those things again where in real life, she’s be perfectly justified but within the fictional guidelines set up by the show, she’s being a vindictive asshole.

-patricia!!!!!

-“she is the sun and she is unstoppable” !!!!!

-addison wrote one too!!!!

-this episode is potentially a little too sentimental and overly emotional but i really really like it. the nostalgia bait made me like it even more actually

-more lumineers!!!! i really like this episode. (i’ll stop now but it’s the first episode in a really long time that i’ve really enjoyed the entire thing)

-everyone is being really dramatic about koracick he really isn’t that bad

-i want to like schmitt it just feels like we were sort of thrown into deep emotional story lines for him without getting to know him beyond surface level. maybe it’s just me it just feels like the show wants me to have a certain level of emotional investment in him that i don’t have (yet?)

-beanie feldstein!

-teddy’s sparkly little winter hat is so cute

-TEDDY NO. i don’t mind if you cheat on owen tbh but plz don’t play with tom’s feelings instead of facing your problems.

-i’ll not comment a lot on the alex thing bc i had spoilers for it and honestly it’s just so ridiculous. it’s one of those things that i don’t blame the character for bc i know it was the writers and other irl circumstances. i imagine from izzies perspective this is the culmination of a beautiful crazy love story akin to the notebook. but from our perspective this sounds like the lie you tell your kids when the family dog dies- “oh he went to live on a farm”

-does richard have another brain tumor??? this doesn’t seem like a relapse but…

-i know it’s wrong but i wouldn’t mind this affair if i thought the show was treating teddy/tom as a serious option. as it stands, i just think teddy is being selfish

-i knew the baby wasn’t gonna be owens

-i KNEW this would be a boy who cried wolf situation with deluca. unfortunately, he also is struggling mentally i think but i don’t know if he’s manic or suffering from a break. they had me convinced i was wrong for a minute, but i knew it would turn out that he was right about the girl being trafficked. but i definitely think that he was nowhere near ready to come back to work and that the psychologist should not have cleared him. i hope he gets the help he needs soon bc i really like deluca :(

-the conference in LA would’ve been the perfect opportunity for an addison cameo

-OOH A TWIST IN TEDDY’S BACKSTORY. this explains a lot

-OOH SO MANY TWISTS THIS EPISODE.

-i am fighting for my life trying to defend teddy in my head. i hate owen as much as the next guy but this whole thing is brutal to watch.

[mangoshorthand]

Flesh and Blood- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch2 (Hard Feelings Part 3)

SUMMARY: As Christmas approaches, everything between you and Five is perfect...until a destructive temporal anomaly gets in the way. Five is convinced another permutation of himself is to blame. Nothing's simple when you're in a relationship Five Hargreeves: could your loyalties be tested in a way unique to him?

<<Back to Chapter 1 Onto chapter 3 >>

You and Klaus take a rare authorized ride in Five's corvette.

Smut below. Proceed at your own...blah blah.

Chapter Two: Tiramisu

Preoccupied as Five was, (dividing his time between staring down the street and scribbling on your bedroom-wall dry erase), he kept looking down at you with concern. This morning’s headache was a bad one and now you're suffering from dizziness too. He blinked away and back again with water and pain relief in his hands. 

Now, he frowns down at you as you swallow the pills.

“Did you get an appointment?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, “Two-thirty.”

You'd finally admitted to yourself that this needed checking out. Ever since your stay in hospital following your encounter with Michael Monroe, you'd been resistant to put yourself back into a medical setting: all the grueling physio and tweaking of dosages. But now, you couldn't deny it any longer.

Regular headaches might be nothing but they were also the first symptom Santi's friend Alyssa had suffered before she was diagnosed with a deadly brain tumor. 

Five's frown deepened as he stared with seeming absence at his latest lines of mathematics.

“I want to drive you but I need to stay here and wait for me to turn up. Of course I’d keep me waiting.”

He tapped his foot impatiently, glancing out of the window as if hoping to see a version of himself strolling down the alley.

“It's fine," you say, "I can get a cab.”

“No. Give me a few minutes.”

***

Klaus was the only other person in the house, and Five had searched high and low before resorting to asking him to drive you. But Klaus agreed with alacrity, promising that he was sober (enough). Five had even been persuaded to give Klaus the keys to his Corvette, though with clear misgivings.

Now, you stand at the double doors of the medical center numbly. You can see Klaus waiting in the car, twenty feet away. It was a short but…productive appointment. You screw up all your fortitude to meet Klaus’s scrutiny, you worry he'll discern that something’s wrong within a minute of you getting into the car. You have to hide the diagnosis from him. It won’t be easy, especially if some ghost has been following you and screams it out to him.

And then, a clap of thunder from a cloudless winter sky.

Your body and clothing seem to ripple along with the force that passes them. Another swirling, rushing noise. A flash of bluish light and energy that flexes like perspex. Another temporal anomaly crashes into being on the other side of the parking lot.

Automatically, you flinch away and back up a few steps. You can feel the force of it, pulling at you like the sensation of water down a plughole. Klaus leaps out of the car and runs to your side, but now you don’t notice him, because you’re running at full pelt towards the portal, shouting as loud as you can.

“Five? Five, is that you? Please! We need to talk to you!”

Klaus catches up and pulls you back as the minivan nearest to you lifts off its wheels and becomes wedged in the sucking void, crushing as if in a compactor, its security alarm blaring uselessly. Cracking, smashing glass and crunching metal are all absorbed; contracting inexorably with the force of the anomaly.

“Five!”

And then it closes, swallowing the car along with it.

“Five?”

There’s nobody there, nobody behind where the void was. You run to the other end of the parking lot, but it’s empty, fenced off. If he was there, then he’s blinked away.

“You ASSHOLE!”

Klaus is at your shoulder, staring at the point the car disappeared.

"Oh my God."

And then he starts to giggle madly, helplessly:

"Can you imagine if that was the Corvette? Five would never get over it."

***

Back in your bedroom. He's pacing again, shooting out questions like a high-precision rifle.

“Did it feel the same?”

“Yeah: like a ripple or a sink emptying.”

He turns to Klaus: “And you?”

“It tickled a little but I was further away,” answers Klaus.

“And you saw nobody?”

“It was an empty parking lot, Fievel Mousekewitz.”

Five huffs.

“I must have blinked. So, what was I doing there? I gotta be following you.” 

He turns his eyes to you again, regarding you as if you were a half-phrased equation.  His hands spring to his pockets and he leans further towards you, eyes narrowing and forehead contracting. 

“Portals appear beside you…twice? It can’t be a coincidence. So what the hell am I trying to do? Am I trying to get to you and failing? But why not just get a briefcase?”

As Five begins to pace again, you turn to Klaus.

 "Do you mind if Five and I speak in private?"

He looks a question at you but your face makes him acquiesce; the little bit of telepathy you share with Klaus communicates your need succinctly. He nods and retreats without even a sarcastic comment. When you hear him heading down the attic stairs, you take a deep, steadying breath.

“If that’s what’s happening, I think I might know why.”

Five’s pacing ceases, his head tilts and all the manic energy concentrates in his eyes.

“I’m fifteen weeks pregnant.”

For a moment, he does nothing, it’s like it doesn’t register. And then, his hand flies to straighten his tie. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but words don’t come so he smooths the back of his hair instead. After mouthing for a few seconds, his eyebrows contract.

“F-fifteen weeks?” His hand now massages the back of his neck, “How?”

You refrain from the obvious answer: Well Five, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much and their contraception failed fifteen weeks ago…

“I’ve bled like normal until this month. It's been light, but…”

He sits down on the bed, staring at the floor between his legs.

“Pregnant?”

He says it as if he’s never heard the word before. You sit down on the chair.

“The headaches and the dizziness. They were symptoms.”

His head goes into his hands and he closes his eyes. You don’t know what he’s thinking or why, you just know he’s thinking. You don’t blame him, your mind is still turning it over uncomprehendingly and you’ve known for an hour longer than he has.

He looks up at you, a hand on each of his cheeks.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Me neither.”

“We made a baby?” it’s as if he wasn’t aware of it as a possibility- as if a pie he’d put in the oven has come out as a perfectly chilled tiramisu. He breathes out shakily.

“Yeah," you say, "…if we want to see it that way.”

He mouths for a second and then stands slowly. His eyes dart to your abdomen and then back up to your face. He blinks away.

You stand up abruptly. No. He doesn’t get to do this. You can’t blink away from this so he doesn’t get to either

“FIVE HARGREEVES!” you scream, “GET YOUR ASS BACK- …oh.”

He's already blinked back, carrying a small bag.

“Sorry," he says, "Sorry. Um…” 

You can see him wanting to pace. He’s biting his lip and his forehead juts towards you. He closes his eyes and the words come rushing out in one stream, tripping over each other.

“Would you, d-do you...do you want?...because I..."

He breathes, opens his eyes and fixes them on yours. You can tell he’s trying hard for his usual collectedness, within the green are depths of vulnerability he’s fighting not to show. He takes your hand and tries again: 

“Would you want to raise a baby with me? With me?”

You grasp his meaning. A lot of unsaid things pass between you at this moment. He's harsh, faltering at times, imperfect; still evolving. Yes, he is all these things, but he listens and he learns. You rest your forehead on his.

“I think I do,” you breathe.

“This baby?” his voice falters, as his eyes flick down to your stomach. The last syllable turns out no more than a whisper.

You nod, feeling tears coming into your eyes.

He gives a single ‘ha’ of laughter or incredulity that’s all but an outward breath. He smiles and squeezes your hand, and you feel yourself laugh a little in return. He breaks contact with your forehead only to kiss it shakily before letting go of your hand. He steps back and begins to fumble in the bag, trying for an unruffled, business-like demeanor. “Good. So that makes this next part a little easier. I would have still done it but now it's…anyway, I bought this when we were shopping yesterday and- shit!” 

He drops the bag and bends to get it. He makes as if to straighten up, but then seems to think better of it. Instead, he lowers himself further to one knee.

“Five?”

He looks up, his side swept hair falling over his brow. “You once told me that you might think about getting married. Would you think about it with me?”

He reaches into the bag and pulls out a small box which he opens to show you: two pear cut rubies flank a natural pearl in a vintage setting; the band itself is plain gold. He looks down at it in his hand and then back up at you.

“I thought you wouldn’t want a diamond, so…” he trails off  before a different idea rushes from his mouth, “We could wait as long as you want. Years, if you like…if we have years left, what with…” he jerks his head at the calculation-covered walls, “And you don’t have to decide now, you can-”

“Five.”

He shuts up.

“Okay,” you smile in confirmation of the word, “Yes. Not now. Maybe not for a while-”

He cuts you off with a sudden kiss, leaping from the floor in a split second. It’s clumsy but sweet. He’s torn in several directions by a multiplicity of feeling that doesn’t allow him to be anything but sincere. Fear and joy commingle so as to make him uncontrolled. One moment, his lips smile against yours, the next, he holds you to him fiercely. 

The kiss becomes a desperate thing all its own, him unable to decide whether to keep his mouth on yours or on your body. He backs you into one of the bookcases, ignoring the heavy encyclopedia that hits him on the shoulder as it falls. He’s grinding against you, his wet, wild caresses intensifying.

At last, he comes up for air and steps back a little, allowing you to step away from the bookcase. He takes the ring out of its box and takes your left hand gently. You allow him to slip it on. He looks at it for a moment and then back at you.

“Sorry, I guess I got carried away there.”

You raise your eyebrows and lean towards him again, so that your lips skim his throat. You breathe him in- the natural scent combined with mint-camphor cologne that makes your stomach flip.

“I'm not complaining.” you whisper, huskily. 

Five lets out a breath that’s almost a moan, the vibrations of your voice against his skin are making all the hairs on his neck stand straight up.

His forward steps impel you backwards, where your legs hit the bedstead unexpectedly. He loses his balance, sending you tumbling beneath him. He manages to stop himself before he puts his whole weight on you.

“Are you ok?” he asks, putting a protective hand on your stomach.

You pull him down onto you and kiss him just as fiercely as he did you, drawing from him a little “Mmmph!” of surprise. Soon, he regains part of his composure and straddles you, taking your hand. You grin as he draws it to his lips and kisses the ring. 

When he lets you go, you use the hand to rub his chest, thumb grazing where his nipples hide under the double layer of material. He responds by stripping off his jacket, waistcoat and tie.

“Why do I wear this shit?” he mutters. 

His shaking hands wrestle with his tie knot, casting it away from him once it’s removed like it’s on fire. When it’s at last discarded and his shirt is undone, he gets off you to allow you both to undress.  

“You don’t know how much I need this,” (he’s breathing through his teeth now,) “I want to make you feel good and forget everything else. Just concentrate on you.”

When he’s stripped to his underwear, he kneels next to the bed, grabs your hips and pulls you to him. When he begins to lick you, your body melts into the bedsheets. He doesn’t often do this -his fingers are too well practiced at getting you there- but on these occasions he’s enthusiastic to a fault. His problem is he enjoys it too much.

To begin with, he tries to tease you like he does with his fingers, but by the time he’s got your clit into a nice rhythm, he’s tasted too much of you and can’t help himself. The more turned on it makes him, the clumsier he gets. It’s hot in its own way, seeing him absolutely lose himself with his face buried in your pussy, like he’s trying to drink your juices. When he moans into you, the sound's vibration gives your clit a pleasant little sting. From the movement of his arm, you can tell his right hand is gently beating himself off below the level of the bed.

“Slow down.”

You gently grab a fistful of his ever-more untidy hair and urge him upwards. He looks up at you, eyes clouded with lust, just wanting to put his face back in there.

“Control yourself down there. I want you to get me off with your tongue.”

“Yes ma’am.” he winks. Even when doing a patchy job of cunnilingus he manages to look cocky.

He parts your labia with two fingers and gives a few long, tongue-tip licks down the entire length, stopping to dip his tongue where the wetness pools at your entrance. He makes eye-contact as he moves his tongue back up. He lets the tip slip in a circle around your clit before changing the movement to a regular, pulsing flick.

“That’s it Daddy,” you breathe, raising your hips to meet his tongue, “keep going like that.”

He gives your clit a cheeky side to side wiggle before briefly surfacing.

“Might wanna lay off the ‘daddy’ stuff for a while.”

Your laugh turns into an ‘ahhh!’ as he returns his face to you, sucking gently and rhythmically at your swollen clit. As your moans intensify, so do his. In his arousal, he becomes sloppy again. “Dammit Five!”

“Then stop-" he slides his tongue inside your vagina, "-tasting-" he sucks hungrily at the come at your entrance "-this good."

He surfaces and licks his own lips, eyes heated. 

You feel like a tightly wound violin string, resonating from his contact. He smirks and returns his mouth to your clit. He's regained control and works quickly, bringing two fingers inside you to aid him.

"Come for me, darling. Cover my face in come." 

The movement of his lips as he forms the words around your swollen clit is maddening. You feel your muscles tighten more. His newly controlled suckling and tongue pulsing finally gets you there.

You come long and noisily, him valiantly keeping up with his tongue until your body relaxes. You lie there, breathing hard for a few moments, coming down from the orgasm. 

You make to sit up, but his hand on your chest pushes you back down.

“I’m not done,” he growls.

He climbs onto the bed, forces a pillow between his legs and his head back between yours. He starts to hump at the pillow as he buries his face between your labia, covering his entire face with the evidence of your orgasm. He mouths you deeply, like he's taking 'eating you out' a little too literally. More than the pillow will need a comprehensive wash after this adventure.

You watch him rock, dragging his hips over the pillow, his toned, perfectly round ass tensing and untensing. He moans into you and speeds up his hips, his knees struggling to get purchase on the bedsheets. He's desperate to come and seeing him do this, totally unabashed, is one of the hottest sights you've seen from him, (and there have been many contenders). Every so often, he turns to the side and fucks his fist for a while before returning to the pillow. 

From a forward and backwards movement, his hips wiggle side to side and then into a figure eight. The new motion excites him, and his moans become more intense, sending aching vibrations onto your clit.

Finally, when his humps become desperate and the friction not enough, he turns to the side again, grabs his cock by the base and milks himself, his come-covered face finally surfacing as he breathes jaggedly. He finishes on his abdominal muscles, his seed spilling out of him in spurting stream after stream. Now he’s covered in come from both of you, his face and abdomen glistening.

He relaxes onto his back, letting his heavy breathing return to normal. Eventually, he wipes his mouth and smooths his hair. 

“Well fuck, that felt good,” he says, matter-of-factly.

***

In the dead of night, he wakes you with a strangled screaming gasp, shielding his eyes in the crook of one arm. You're so used to this now that you barely even startle. You pull him, hyperventilating, to your breast. This routine isn't formal, but it's developed over the year you’ve shared his bed. 

"It's ok. It's just a dream. Just a nightmare."

You feel him shaking against your neck, trying to slow his breathing.

"You're safe. You're home. It's okay."

His pulse skitters under your fingers. His breathing doesn't slow. 

You rock him a little.

"Breathe with me, okay? Inhale, two, three four; hold, two, three, four; out, two, three, four, five, six."

You repeat the chant over and over. At first, he can't follow but slowly, tremulously, he does. After fifteen full cycles, his inhales get less shaky. When you reach twenty, he can do it properly. 

"You okay?"

He carries on by himself for another cycle or two before he’s ready to speak.

"Better. Thank you.” and then, vulnerable: “I love you.”

"I love you too,” you kiss his clammy forehead, holding your lips to him for a few seconds in acknowledgment of his tone.

“Was it the same dream as always?"

He nods, eyes closed.

“The fires just kept burning. Months.”

“I know.”

He repositions himself so now you’re holding each other rather than him in your arms. He buries his face in your hair and kisses where his lips touch. You think he’s asleep again until you hear him whisper out of the dark:

“I don’t know how to be a dad.”

You squeeze him tighter.

“I don’t know how to be a mom,” you mumble, "You’re a great uncle, so why wouldn’t you be a great dad?”

“Yeah, I’ll just teach the little one eugenics 101, shall I?”

“You need to stop beating yourself up. You fucked up once in Santi’s entire life and you did it trying to help him. Trust yourself.”

“How can I trust myself when there’s some version of me out there doing God-knows-what with nonsense calculations? All of this... it's a lot to take in.”

He rolls onto his back, still holding you, and staring up at the ceiling through the darkness.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

You feel him scrub at his forehead with one palm,

“No...I don't know. I always feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop: for the next danger to come. If anything happened to either of you...can I risk my kid getting wrapped up in all my shit?"

You lay your head on him. This has been nagging at you too.

"But...is that worse than no kid? Now it's actually happened? I don't think I want to stop being pregnant."

He sighs and buries his face in your hair.

"I don't want that either. I guess I'll just have to face whatever comes."

"We'll face it, Five. Together."

You feel him smile against your head. You don't have to see him to know which: it's his fond smile, the one he wears when he muses over you. Though you don't know it, it's the smile he wears when he can't quite believe his luck to have met you. 

"You're right: partners."

He kisses your head briefly before continuing:

"I guess I'm also just realizing how unprepared I am. I’ll have a lot to offer if our kid ever needs to live off cockroaches and develop a loving relationship with a mannequin, but otherwise…I got no idea.”

“You’ll learn.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “but the only Dad I ever knew wasn’t exactly the type to play ball and kiss me goodnight.”

“And my Mom's a crazy bitch. We just have to start by taking everything they did and doing the opposite.”

“So you’re saying don’t teach them how to break someone’s neck before I teach them how to ride a bike?”

“Yeah- good fathering instincts!”

 He laughs darkly. You can tell he’s still worried

“Diego does fine.”

“I’m not Diego.”

You’re not sure whether Five considers this a compliment to Diego or not.

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves <<Back to Chapter 1 Onto chapter 3 >> Masterpost

Alternatively, join me on A03.  Here is a link to the whole series

[mermaidsirennikita]

23- What is your longest friendship?

11- What were your highs and lows for this last month?

19- A time you told a lie

33- What's a pet peeve you have?

35- What kind of first impression do you think you make on people?

23. What is your longest friendship?

Hmmm, I have one friend from high school that I still keep in touch with, even if we aren't as close... My closest SUPER TIGHT friendships in ~real life are with two former coworkers I met at the same time. We live in different cities (only like an hour apart tho) and have very different lifestyles (they're moms, I'm not) so we have to really stretch to make it work but we do.

And my longest-lasting friendship with someone I met online is Amaya :)

11. What were your highs and lows for this last month?

Hmmmm.... My low was an anxiety attack I had when I was sure that I had a brain tumor because of vision issues I've been having (going to the eye doctor on Tuesday, but based on the fact that the issues are relatively minor and I have zero brain tumor symptoms and everyone in my family wears glasses... probably not a brain tumor? Let's hope?) and my high was a really fun work opportunity thingy I'm doing now.

19. A time you told a lie.

Lmao I told people in my life that I was going to NYC for a conference when in fact I was going to NYC because I was having a bit of a Restless Crisis and just needed to be away. I don't know why I told that lie; I have a hard time doing things Just For Me, there always has to be a justification.

33. What's a pet peeve you have?

I hate it when people blame their assholery on mental illness--and I say this as someone who has a srs (if not treated and regulated) one. It's a contributing factor; it's not an excuse.

35. What kind of first impression do you make on people?

I think that, depending on the setting, I can either come off as aloof and (I have been told) intimidating or MUCH more extroverted than I actually am, a chattery exuberant girly girl. I guess that's the bipolar energy lmao

[confessions-official]

i wish more people knew when to give up on their marriage. if you’re struggling with marriage, having a kid will NOT fix your marital issues. if your partner is picking fights with you when you’re drunk and making you and your kids walk on eggshells around him whenever he’s in a bad mood, that’s bad! “oh but we should stay together for the kids—” the KIDS (or kid in my situation, my brother is seemingly unaffected by watching our dad yell at me and our mom constantly) feel unsafe when they hear people raising their voices or forcefully/loudly closing doors, setting things down etc. that shit fucks you up! hearing from your parent that actually the reason you get overstimulated so much is because you’re not exposed to very stimulating things that often and if you just put yourself in overstimulating situations more your sensory issues would go away like fucking exposure therapy for my autism????

not to mention if you’re going to choose to work for the majority of your kid’s childhood and force them to do sports that they hate (while hammering in the importance of doing sports so you can get college scholarships otherwise you’re not going to get anywhere in life and you’ll end up miserable) when you do see them, you do not get to be upset when your kids joke about having an absent father. presently you’re like a couch cushion that wildly increases the anxiety levels of your wife and child. feeling like a fucking zebra hunted down by one really awful lion when i’m just sitting on the couch trying not to think about how scared of you i am.

and listen. you can claim to love your wife. you can say it all day, you can blame your relationship issues on her for not wanting to have sex after she literally had a brain tumor and needed brain surgery, you can accuse her of doing all sorts of things like cheating on you with one of her closest queer friends, you can refuse to give her help with tasks that she struggles with because of that brain tumor she had and then blame her for not just Doing the task that she asked for help with. you can do that. you shouldn’t do any of those things. but you could. she puts up with that because you’ve worn her down so she just lets it slide since it really isn’t worth the trouble. BUT. you do not get to compare her to her physically and verbally abusive alcoholic step-dad who kicked her out of her house when she was thirteen years old. you don’t get to do that. it is so goddamn hypocritical of you to do that when YOU are more like him. you think you’re so much better than him because you don’t like him as a person but just because you don’t hit your kids doesn’t mean you haven’t traumatized them or given them emotional baggage that they’ll carry with them to hell. YOU need to do the right thing and ask for a divorce. it’s getting ridiculous at this point. just shut the fuck up and take the L. you failed at your marriage and that’s fine, you got like five to ten good years in and i understand the sunk-cost fallacy cause you’ve made it almost twenty years but you HAVE to realize that it’s time to give up. this one is on you, man. i would never say this to your face because you’d never give me a moment of peace for as long as i live, but i’m right. they’re your problems, and you can either figure them out or leave. BETTER YOURSELF AS A HUMAN BEING OR GET OUT OF MY LIFE. please

 

[motheatenscarf]

Welp.

Final Fantasy 14 has officially reached tumor status for the space it occupies in my brain.

I blame my friends for taking too long to let me get to Endwalker and leaving me to just... STEW in my thoughts about this game without having any kind of narrative resolution or catharsis for MONTHS.

I've been trying to write up the session recaps from the last like, 6 or 7 sessions of the Almenor D&D campaign. For like 3 days now, I've just been listening to music and writing and writing and writing the recaps while going through my like 40 pages of notes that I took and framing them into a proper epic recap.

Except that every like twenty minutes, a song will pop up on my random shuffle and I will stop and think, "Oh! This reminds me of Blorbo from my games!" and now I have a whole playlist just from things that came up on shuffle that I have put no thought into.

And I'm scared of how long it will be, or how many playlists it might become, were I to actually put effort into it and search for music that I like which I felt fit Blorbos from my games.

I will NOT share this playlist, because my taste in music is objectively bad, and also no one needs to know how much of my music library I feel applies to the sad old war crimes rat grandpa or how it makes me cry!!

[highmarc]

Happy. He was once. // Pt. 2

Requested by @bigtalesalad

Pt.2 of this.

Brought to you by zero motivation and extreme lack of brains.

There definitely will be two more parts no one asked for. I just want it to be completed.  

GN main character. Ominis has feelings towards MC. MC doesn’t see that, because they basically live in guilt.

TW: emetophobiacs look away, Azkaban Sebastian, guilt guilt everywhere, stupid author, stupid grammar, angsty stuff, unnecessary drama.  

TW2: English is not my first language, thus I'm not eloquent and my writing skills suck.

Word count: 1532

Picture - Anne Magill (her artwork is astonishing).

Ominis’s hands were shaking – the wizard could barely hold his trusted wand and walk. He was cold, indeed, but it was not the cold that made him shiver. It was fear. Immeasurable, intolerable, sinister, hanging as a huge black cloud above his head. Fear met his thoughts and turned them into a monstrous mess, made of the worst things he hated the most.

He was afraid of his friend, his actions, to be more precise. But he was also afraid for him. He had already lost him once. Was it worth – all these risks – to get him out of Azkaban now?

“What if I let him out, and he'll go down the only road he knows? What if he kills them? He will for sure. I need to talk to Anne about all this. I need to-”

All these questions fogged his mind, and the sound of echoing footsteps made him feel nauseous somehow.

“It’s the place, wretched, wretched prison.” – he thought – “I’m already going crazy. Poor Sebastian. He’s been here all these years, that’s why…”  

Sebastian's anger towards their friend was immeasurable - Ominis knew it well. Too well now, even. The hatred inside him grew like a tumor, slowly but surely poisoning Sallow's mind. No one knew it - and probably never would - but at some point poor Sebastian even decided that it was his “friend”, the blasted new fifth-year, to blame for Anne’s curse. How nice it was of them later – to blame Victor Rookwood for their own or their goblin friend’s crimes! If it wasn't for that stupid ancient magic...

The nauseous feeling made Ominis cover his mouth, then stop and lean against a cold and unpleasantly wet wall.

The auror rushed to their friend. They looked into his face – just to see how pale he was. They took his hand and felt his quickened pulse.

“Ominis, you’re not feeling well. We won’t be able to disapparate right now. I've tried to warn you-”

“I know.” - he sighed. – “But I wanted to see my... My... My friend.” The man’s breathing was shallow and quick.

“I understand that wish. That’s why I brought you here. Even though I’ll get an earful from my partner.”

Gaunt tried to smile, but he was unable to move even a muscle of his face. How weird it all suddenly felt. His friend took him by the hand, comforting him again – a common gesture between the two. It meant “well, I’m here for you, no need to worry”. But it wasn’t enough this time. The place (or rather its inhabitants) was slowly wearing Ominis down. Yet it was not he who attracted the wretched things. It was the auror. Living in their guilt day to day, having cowardly thoughts about death. When they saved someone’s life (and it happened frequently) they didn’t feel right about it, all they could think of was that very life, doomed to be spent in prison, which they couldn’t save.

“I see him as often as I can, but.. He never recognised me. It was... The first time he actually did. And I don’t know what to make out of it.”  

The air became somewhat heavier, and it was suddenly harder to find any words at all and utter them in a proper way. The guilt was following the two, like their own shadows. Ominis gulped a couple of times, battling nausea.

“It's the Azkaban. Playing tricks on us. On him. Sometimes I think the ministry is no better than these dark wizards they're torturing here. It can't be the only way of punishing them. They deserve a bit of mercy.”

The auror sighed, finally letting Ominis’s hand go. They continued walking slowly, without noticing the evil remarks coming from imprisoned witches and wizards. Crazy eyes of their were glowing with rage in the dark.

“Fockin’ daugs!” – someone yelled in a raspy low voice.

“It's a difficult question, Ominis. These imprisoned did not show mercy to those they tortured and killed.”

“I-I... Don't know what to say. It is difficult. Because I think about Sebastian, not someone else here.”

“I understand. I promise - I will get him out of there for you.” – the auror said firmly, as if finally making a decision. They knew a way or two how to make it all happen. One of them required determination. And now, as they felt, was the time. They’ll serve their own head on a platter for the hungry mongrels of the ministry. A sacrifice they should have made many years ago.

“I opt for lesser evil, to free a greater one. And I can only hope they won’t regret it.”   

“For me?” – the wizard asked, his voice shaking.

“Yes. He wants to crush my skull, don't forget about that.” – The auror cackled, even if it seemed out of place.

“As for Anne... I cannot say. We – or you – must talk to her about this business.”

Then they added in a soft voice.

“I still wonder why you two don't hate me as much as Sebastian does.”

Ominis’s eyes widened in disbelief. Why were they saying these things? To hurt him even more? Wasn’t it already enough? He cared for them beyond the way one cares for friends. His feelings opposed hate. It was… love? Of some kind. Care? Wasn’t it obvious to them? The way he tried to be closer, the way he smiled, the way he noticed every little detail about them, the presents he got them… Wasn’t it enough? Was he enough?  

“Why would I? Or Anne? You've always been there for me. And for her. And-”

“I'm not a good friend, Ominis.” – they stopped his ardent speech mid-sentence.

“A good auror, maybe, but a horrible friend indeed. I should have...”

Suddenly the auror saw their breaths and felt piercing cold. The cold was… mind and limb-numbing. Not a good sign in Azkaban. It meant only one thing – the demetors made they return. The auror grinded their teeth, drawing their wand in a moment.

“Stay behind me, Ominis.”

The shadowy slender creatures were gathering in front of them. They outstretched their greyish, slimy hands to them.

“What are those-“ – Gaunt wheezed, panicking.

“Dementors.”

Gaunt gulped. He knew - those wretched things are the reason why all the prisoners went slowly mad. They stole all the good memories from them. If they had any. Ominis breaths became quicker and shallow again. He felt how despair engulfed him. All these childhood memories returned – screams, oh, how they scream! Poor muggles didn’t stand a chance.

The wizard fell on his knees and cried: “MAKE THEM STOP! THESE CRIES!”

He relived those moments again – someone’s firm grip on his shoulder, an atrocious whisper: “Do it, my boy.”

“I won’t. Never. Ever. Let me go!” – he cried in vain. Then there came pain. In bouts. Agonising. Excruciating.  

“YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF OUR NAME. A STAIN-“- the abominable voices cried .

The auror moved their wand fiercely and cried at the top of their lungs:

“Expecto patronum!”

They could never bear their friend being in pain. They wanted to see his smile. Beaming, gentle, shy, sincere. The way he smiled when he won another round of game of gobstones. The way he smiled when they drank butterbeer together, telling each other funny stories of their mischiefs. They saw their first hippogriff ride together. The other friends so dear to their heart. If only one could live in memories like these…  

The corridors were lit in a second with a wave of silver light – a silver lining for the two of friends it truly was. Even Ominis could feel a sudden breath of hope, something warm and bright, there, in his heart. No more cries and pain. It felt as if he was able to breathe again. And as if he was a boy again – a second-year, full of hopes, with Sebastian and Anne by his side. Playing tricks and never getting caught…

“Such powerful magic. “– Ominis thought – “Bringing all the good memories from the hidden corners of one’s heart.”

The silver bird furiously met the dementors, waiting for their prey, with a loud cry. Even Sebastian could hear it from his cell. He only smirked at it, thinking: “Too bad you didn’t get to kiss one of those…”

So the monsters were gone. The auror sighed and helped their friend to get back on his feet.

“I'm sorry, Ominis. I've completely forgot about those... Things. Are you all right?”

They looked into his face, worried. Ominis’s screams were still ringing in their head. And it made their heart ache. At least it was over.  

A faint smile escaped the man’s lips. He stared into the corridors with awe, like a child.

“That was... Amazing. I've never felt something like this. Was this a corporeal patronus?”

“Yes, Omi, and a late one. A narrow escape, almost.”  

“It cried like a bird. A huge bird.”

 “A phoenix.” – the auror sighed – “I'm so sorry. For hesitating.”  

“Hesitating?”

“I-I... I'll tell you later. Let's get out of here first.”

Still, Ominis’s hands were shaking. Yet it was not the fear that made him shiver. It was exhaustion. Merlin, how tired he was…