#I cannot believe that like just a few years ago me and my dad were fine and not I can’t fucking stand being around him

[raeathnos]

.

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 • 𝐝𝐚𝐝! 𝐤𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞

Based on this scenario I got: No but imagine Kylian and you comparing baby pics😭😭😭 And you guys play fight about how your baby will look more like. Omg he makes a side by side of you two , and posts it as a poll. He asks his followers who they think has the stronger genes. Omg and when you’re baby is finally born she looks exactly like Kylian, but as she gets older she has the same face moles that you have. When he finally posts the baby his caption is, “well I guess my competitiveness has no limits. Cause our baby looks exactly like me. It looks like I gave birth to her myself🫃🏽🤣”

Genre: fluff

Pairing: kylian mbappe x f reader, dad! Kylian

Warning: none really. Kylian being a meanie I guess

Author note: I write so slow, Sorry. Also I didn't mean to make the reader white. It's just the picture. You can insert yourself as a POC

Kylian mbappe Masterlist

Enjoy

You held your daughter in your arms admiring her. An hour ago you just gave birth. Amelia Mbappe is her name. You and kylian waited months for her and she was finally here in your arms. You couldn’t stop staring at her.

“Can’t believe she’s real.” Kylian had a smile on his face. He walked over to the hospital bed, looking down at the little baby. He had his shirt off ready for skin to skin with her.

“I know I can’t believe it either.” You whispered. You leaned down placing a soft kiss on the top of Amelia’s head that was covered in tiny brown locks.

“kylian sat down in the bed beside you. You gently handed Amelia over to him. Instantly kylian tensed up. he’s held plenty of babies before, and sure he was gentle with them all, but this time… this time it was different.

This was his baby. His own bundle of joy He created with you. She was so tiny and fragile. He was afraid he was going to break her.

“Support her head.”

You watched as kylian rested Amelia’s head on his arm. The baby cooed softly, stirring but not waking.

“She’s so perfect.”

“Yeah, she’s your mini me.” You said. Kylian looked up at you. “you’re not wrong there.” Kylian laughed. “Remember when we debated on how she was going to look?”

You chuckled. “Oh yeah I remember like it was yesterday.

Flashback to three years before

“Who do you think our future kids will look like more?” You whispered into the darkness.

You and kylian were wide awake at 1am due to your mid day naps. Now the most random topics were being thrown out to make up for it. This one caught kylian off guard.

“Our future kids huh?”

“Yeah..” you sat up, leaning against your hand to look at kylian the best you could with the help of the moonlight streaming through the window.

“You want kids right?” Kylian hummed a yes so you continued. “So who do you think they’ll look like more? Me or you?”

“well.” A sigh left kylian lips. He rested his hands behind his head. He had a smirk on his face which shows you he’s about to say something you’ll most likely hate.

“I think our kids will look like me. You know my family genes are strong Chéri.”

“Hey!” You knitted your eyebrows ”You think my family doesn’t have good genes?”

“I’m not saying they don’t, but mine are stronger therefore mine will win and our kids will look just like me.”

You scoffed, hitting kylian chest. “I cannot believe you right now.”

You laid back down on your back with a huff.

“well you wanted my opinion Mon amour, so I gave it.” Kylian pulled you into his chest. His hand stroked your lower back. You relaxed into his touch.

“Well we’ll see. I do think they’ll look more like me though.” You muttered while sleep started to take over you.

--

“I was really hoping she’d look like me, but unfortunately you were right. Your genes are stronger.”

Kylian let out a laugh. “don’t worry, maybe our next kid will look just like you.”

Amelia started to fuss in Amelia’s arms. She was hungry. You took her back in your arms to start feeding.

A few weeks had passed since you had Amelia. Everyday with her has been a joy for you and kylian. She was a calm baby, rarely ever fussed or cried which you both were very grateful for.

This morning you both were up at 9am due to feeding Amelia. As the girl feed in your arms you and kylian sat up against the headboard.

“Do you think it’s time to introduce her to the world?” kylian asked. He looked up at you waiting for an answer.

Everyone knew you had the baby already. It wasn’t a secret since kylian told social media as soon as you made it home from the hospital. They have yet to see Amelia’s face though. You wanted to give her some privacy and only show her face a little bit.

“Do you think it’s time?” you asked Kylian. You began to burp her because she was done eating.

“Yeah. It’s been a couple of weeks. I think we should give the world a little glimpse of our Ange.” Kylian ran his large hand over Amelia’s tiny back as she rested on your chest.

“Well let’s show her.”

Kylian scrolled through several pictures of you and Amelia he took over the past few weeks before he settled on one to post on Instagram.

He began typing a caption.

Well I guess my competitiveness has no limits. Cause our baby looks exactly like me. It looks like I gave birth to her myself

Kylian laughed as he finished typing. You looked at him with a frown. “What?”

All kylian did was shake his head while he pressed post.

“Don’t worry about it.” He placed his phone on the bedside table and took Amelia from your arms. “Now lemme cuddle with Ma princesse.” He placed several gentle kisses on her head before laying down with her.

You picked up your phone opening social media. The first thing to pop up was kylian post. You read the caption.

“Ky, are you serious?” you rolled your eyes and turned to your husband. He was smirking. “je suis désolé mon amour.” I’m sorry love

“Sure you are.”

[benedictscanvas]

Nobody on the BAU team believes Jack Hotchner when he says his father’s new girlfriend is rich and famous. Then they meet her.

A theoretical opening to an Aaron Hotchner x f1 reader if you’re interested, but also no pressure if you don’t vibe with it. I don’t want anything too specific, just happy chosen family shenanigans. Sending all the love to you 💛💛

cute cute cute. as i'm writing this i'm pretty sure i've seen this type of thing before but i cannot remember for the life of me who wrote it! so pls let me know if anyone knows and i'll tag them. sending you all the love back anon <3 || 1.5k words, fem!reader

"Jack, come on man! Has your dad put you up to this?"

"No!" the boy insists, then lowers his voice again, "Dad told me not to tell you, but I couldn't help it."

Derek feels his chest swell with pride until he remembers what Jack's trying to convince him. He narrows his eyes at him again.

"Dave then? Trying to pull one over on me? Just because I switched out his-"

"Derek! I'm telling you the truth. I even have proof," Jack said, eyebrows raised, waiting for Derek to take the bait. His proof was poor at best, but he needed to talk to someone about this.

"Go ahead, kiddo."

Jack pulled out his phone, tapping furiously. Derek waited impatiently, even though he was an inch more intrigued than he had been 30 seconds ago.

When Jack showed him the blurriest photo in existence, that hope was snuffed out immediately.

"Okay, I'm leaving."

Jack grabbed at Derek's arm to make him stay, let him explain and it was enough to catch the attention of the rest of the BAU at their desks. Hotch was in his office, oblivious to the scene, one he would have put a stop to before it started.

"What's Morgan done this time?" JJ asked, making her way over with a smirk. Spence and Emily were listening from their desks too and before Jack could answer, Derek was already speaking.

"No no no, you're not blaming this one on me. Jack's claiming our very own Hotch is dating the Y/N Y/L/N. You know, she's an actress?"

Emily gasped.

"She's not just an actress, she's the actress, thank you Derek. I worship that woman."

"She's pretty amazing," Spencer added.

"Derek," Jack practically whined, "Dad's gonna kill me. I told you in secret!"

"Okay, but you're not serious Jack."

"You can't be."

"I am! So serious. So so serious that you all have to swear you're not gonna tell my dad about this conversation," Jack said, and upon seeing the amused looks of the people that were practically family, he glared at them, "Swear!"

"I swear, Jack," Spencer took pity on him first, but soon JJ and Emily did too, seeing the flush that had travelled up the young boy's neck. He may have grown a lot in his first few years of being a teenager but he kept the same tells that they could all read. Even Derek.

"Alright, alright, I swear too. But when I find out what you're trying to pull, I'm gonna pull something right back. You'll never see it coming, kid."

"Sounds like fighting talk, Jack, you need me to handle this for you?" came a teasing voice, silky smooth, from behind the group. Jack was the only one facing your way, and his face lit up at the sight of you. He went to stand at your side as the rest of them turned to see you in all your glory, smiling at them with that grin that they'd all seen so many times before.

On red carpets. Or movie theatre screens. Never in their office.

"Nah, you're alright Y/N," Jack said, greeting you with a brief but intricate handshake the others couldn't catch in time, "This is Derek, you've heard so much about, and he doesn't believe you're dating my dad."

"Ah, Derek Morgan," you said, enjoying the shock on his face as you said his full name, "You're right to be skeptical, you know. This one ate the last of my cereal this morning, though he swears it wasn't him."

Jack retorts instantly and just like that, the two of you have entered easy banter that the others can't help but sit and stare at. The conversation stops short when Jack bursts out in raucous laughter and you're grinning again, but you quickly turn back to the others.

"I'm so sorry," you say, and it's genuine now without the playful edge, "To show up like this, unannounced, and not even introduce myself. When I practiced this in my head, just know I blew you all away with my first impression."

They all rewarded you with a chuckle and it was enough to put you more at ease.

"I don't think you really need to introduce-"

"Y/N?"

Emily was cut off by another voice behind the group, this time one they knew well from their day to day lives. When they turned, comically in time with one another, they found Hotch at the top of the stairs, brow furrowed as he took the steps downward and walked towards them all.

Or, more accurately, towards you.

"I thought we were meeting you there?" he asked, voice low once he reached you and getting lower still as he murmured, "You don't have to do this, you know."

"I know. I want to," you assure him, eyes all sparkle as you look at him and reach out to briefly squeeze his arm, "Promise."

He nods once, like he's made up his mind. When he turns to the others, he's almost smiling. Spencer finds it a little eerie.

"Everyone, this is Y/N Y/L/N. My-" he stops short, and doesn't realise the entirety of his team is revelling in him being so flustered, "We're seeing each other."

"I'm his girlfriend," you supply, shaking your head at Hotch but you can't keep the smile from your face, "He just hates saying it."

"No," he grinds out, looking at you with nothing but fondness despite his warning tone, "It just doesn't cut it. It's not enough."

"What would you prefer?" Derek butts in, "Your significant other? Life partner? Lover?"

"Enough. She's important to me, let's leave it at that, shall we?"

Derek's suggestions had made you chuckle but Hotch's assertion had made you positively beam. JJ could read it all over her face. She'd moved past being starstruck and into being incredibly happy for Hotch.

"Jack I think we all owe you an apology man," Derek began, then winced and corrected himself when Emily elbowed him right in the ribs, "And especially me. I really thought you were kidding me."

"Jack, you told them?"

Hotch's voice is still stern, but this time directed towards his son. Derek winces again, knowing he's put his foot in his mouth as Jack's shoulders slump. Still glowing, you come to his rescue.

"Oh, Aaron, he's just happy for you," you say placatingly, a hand at his back, a reassurance, before you turn to the team, "It was me who wanted to keep this quiet, not Aaron. I was trying to protect him from my life, but I think I kept it up a little too long. That's why I'm here."

Spencer thinks Hotch might be glowing too. You, you're all ethereal anyway, and there's the essence of something angelic about you, but you seem to have pulled Hotch into your orbit. He's definitely smiling now, just a little. Spencer is trying not to frown at the difference of it all.

"You don't mind that I told them?"

"Not even a bit, Jackaroo," you chuckle when he rolls his eyes fondly at the nickname, "Been wanting to show your dad off for an awful long time, really."

It's cloying, really, the way you hang onto his forearm as you say it, but he's drinking up every drop you send his way. He even goes as far as to rest a hand on your own arm in return, and keeps you close.

"Other way round, sweetheart," he mutters, in some vain hope only you will hear him. He doesn't get his wish. As soon as somebody sighs wistfully, he's stiff again, back straight, "But I think we've shown off enough for one day. Lunch?"

Jack nods enthusiastically, still seeming relieved that you've helped him avoid any scolding, not that Hotch is very good at that, surprisingly. You nod too, sending a last sweet smile to the whole team and insisting that now they've met you, they won't be able to get rid of you. Another round of chuckles.

Emily insists they won't want to get rid of you and she's a little too eager. A little too superfan. If you notice, you don't show it, only saying goodbye to her with an extra warm hug that she can't shake off.

The three of you head off, you still hanging off Hotch's arm, your cheek now smushed against his shoulder. But he's silent, and you're blabbering away with Jack again, more laughter. When they get into the elevator and Derek cranes his head, he can see the real smile on Hotch's face and he gets a little choked up.

"Well shit," he says to the others, coughing it away, "That's me not getting any real work done today."

"You can say that again," somebody says, and soon they've devolved into sitting on desks and gossiping right into the afternoon.

When Dave and Penelope trudge back in after their early lunch to the commotion of everyone's reactions after you'd left, Dave simply asks them how they didn't know sooner. They're not surprised.

And if Penelope cries a little at the thought of just missing you, you'll never know. She has the others sworn to secrecy.

(hotch doesn't return at all)

if you'd like to request something, please do so here! i'd love to hear from you sunflower <3

[itsblasttothepast]

Hey I know this is random af but I just recently found your deep-dive lore of Checo as his fan, if you don't mind me asking is there any deeper relationship between Lewis and Checo as driver since they never really become teammate to begin with? As new checo fans I feel like I missed a lot of his lore

Oh anon, you have no idea what you've done. You opened the door to a rambling from ages ago, so fasten your seatbelt, because it will be a wild ride my friend, as I'm getting into this mode:

Checo and Lewis' story started with the first podium of my adorable Mexican: Malaysia 2012. He was P2, Fernando Alonso won, and Lewis was P3.

Look how happy my boy was, so excited for his first podium, next to the big honcho (Alonso back then). As Checo was just starting in F1, honestly I didn't know much about Lewis before that moment, but he always looked reserved and aloof, too cool for this bunch (nothing against Lewis, I like him, but he gives me that vibe even now).

In the press room, we all noticed Lewis looking at Checo like this, it was like 'what is this guy even doing here, with a SAUBER?' (Sauber was a middle-low table team).

We thought then that we would hate Lewis forever and ever for giving the evil eye to our boy, but to our surprise, they seemed to get along just fine... even more than just fine, if you get my drift.

They always seemed to gossip in the interviews and press conferences, and to be honest, they were fairly touchy feely to each other.

But the year I feel they were the closest, and I can't say if they had something bigger than a friendship because of course we cannot know that, but they were close for sure, maybe good friends, was 2015... oh, 2015...

They shared a few podiums, and they were so smiley and touchy, like in Russia:

Or... the thing that BROKE US back then (and still, honestly), México 2015 Grand Prix... a video of Lewis being a DJ in a club, with Checo next to him.... I'll let the pictures speak for themselves, alrighty?

Happy and relaxed (and Checo was drunk as a skunk. Lewis apparently doesn't drink, or he does not drink excessively, that's why he made a non-alcoholic tequila, a sacrilege for me, as mexican) (also, I must admit that Checo parties hard, making him super idiotic and sleazy. I mean, I love the man, but he has his flaws). Anyways, here's the video if you want to check it out:

Sorry anon, I didn't find it on youtube.

So, naturally, all the fangirls (I'm a girl, BTW, too old for this DTS croud) were making crazy stories about a bromance-romance, that increased because we remembered this tweet:

Roscoe is Lewis' pet, so adorable and famous like his dad. He jumped into Checo's car, and Checo took this picture and tagged Lewis. Something usual between them, tagging each other with things. So as other fans had pointed out, not only Roscoe knew Checo and his car, but felt comfortable enough to jump into it and chill there.

Also, in a team dynamic with Max, Checo remembered the tweet and clarified that Roscoe doesn't travel that far when Max suggested the picture was taken in Australia, and also knows that Roscoe is vegetarian.

This was the moment when we felt like this:

We thought they were going to be the BFF of the F1, they seemed to be chillin' outside the grid and they seemed closer... but then... brocedes happened.

Nico Rosberg and Lewis Hamilton were besties, we all know that (therefore the ship/frienship name). When they became teammates at Mercedes... oh boy, things got ugly. I believe that their friendship being in decline was something that influenced the closeness between Checo and Lewis, but that's just my opinion.

2016 was the year that decided everything. Lewis focused all his energy in beating Britney (sorry, I had to use that nickname at least once, I know Nico hated it, but I couldn't resist), and his friendship/whatever else was going on with Checo faded away.

Nico won the championship (but honestly, it was brutal, it destroyed their friendship), and he retired, and Lewis seemed to regain balance and focus again. But it was never the same with Checo, and if we hoped for something to revive, 2021 ended those dreams, when Checo was brought to RedBull to help Max win the championship, and that meant blocking Lewis path as long as he could. I don't want to enter to the whole 'Lewis was robbed' discussion, but it was a riot.

Additionally, on a side note, Checo also had a good relationship with Nico Rosberg, so it was like he was in the middle of their breakup.

Still, they seem friendly nowadays, Checo keeps making small talk with Lewis, and honestly, and I clarify, IN MY OPINION, Lewis always looks very fond of Checo, and he smiles differently with him. Again, in my delusional opinion.

Like for example:

So, in conclussion anon, even when they WERE close back then, now they seem friendly and fine with each other. When they get together in the interviews, they always gossip and smile, and Canada 2024 gave us little Chewis crumbs (this was the ship name, until Charles Leclerc joined the party and now is also the name of the Charles/Lewis pairing).

Phewww, sorry anon, I know you didn't expected this rambling, but I hope you made it this far and I could answer your question.

And I'm glad to see more Checo fans around here, I was feeling like this all the time.

Oh, and please, pleaseeeee, consider this my take on things, my opinion and fangirl delusions, if you don't agree and you think I'm crazy, that's fair, but no need to be nasty about it or call me names.

Who wants me to ramble about Checo/Nico next? O Checo/Esteban? Ohhh, that would be wild!

[joekeeryswife]

pedro pascal is so daddy like… i genuinely dont know why this man doesnt have kids yet but I VOLUNTEER 🙋‍♀️

anywayss, i cant help but think about the domesticity of being married and expecting with pedro like we all know that man is old and is already daddy status but just imagining him coming home to you and your swollen belly after a day running around the city… to kiss on you and hold you like!!! you cant tell me that wouldn’t be the cutest shit ever

then you got the early mornings and late nights of him and you talking, watching movies together, laying on the couch in your spacious new york apartment, looking over on the city!!! and i just know no matter what, that man would just adore you. would always want to have you around, inviting you to come out with him while he’s working, always wanting to take you on dates, and events. i mean just utterly infatuated with you (especially if youre having his baby!?! like that man wouldnt know what to do with himself)

he would just take the best care of you… when he wakes up making sure your vitamins are all set up for you to take (so cant say you forgot!) and maybe writing little love notes incase you arent awake to bid him away for the few hours he’ll be gone. and he’d shoot you just random texts and pictures whether that be on set, in a meeting, driving/walking around, anything to let you know that youre on his mind… and when he comes home, oh lord. i wholeheartedly believe, after an extremely long day, he’d always come home with a little treat for you…

you’d be in the kitchen, getting dinner ready for the night, anticipating his arrival, as you hear the door open, and a loud and cheesy, “honey, im home!” to which he walks into your shared kitchen with a small little bag, holding a pastry he picked up for you on his way home just because he knows how much you love that bakery. you’d welcome him into your warm embrace and as you continue cooking for the two of you, nothing would make more sense than for him to rub that belly of yours…whispering all the praise you’d been aching to hear. telling you how beautiful you look, how strong you are, how grateful he is to have you, to hold you… and then ofcourse you’d enjoy the dinner you had made for the two of you. ending the night with the pastry pedro had picked up for you and a glass of wine for him…

ahhh! i totally rambled so much but i love pedro like UGH

Baby- p.p

hello loves! when i tell you i screamed when i saw this i’m not even lying. i tried my best with this one and if i’m being honest i don’t think i like it at all😭! first pedro pascal imagine (btw dad! imagines are my fave to write) dms are always open if you wanna chat loves! i’m like nervous to post this idk why. anyways enjoy 🤍 ⚠️age gap couple!⚠️

taglist (add yourselves loves🤍)(if there is a line through your name i cannot tag you for some reason x) @1-john-4-19

"baby, im home" you heard Pedro voice echo through your New York apartment. you had moved in with Pedro two years ago after a year of dating and now you were pregnant with your first child together. you were in the kitchen making a sandwich which you had been craving for the past thirty minutes but you were too tired to even get up off the sofa to make it.

you were 7 months pregnant and even walking made you out of breath, it was like the baby was purposely kicking your rib cage just to make you more uncomfortable than you already were. you heard his footsteps walking toward the kitchen and smiled at him when he finally appeared.

he had been out in New York with Bella, doing random interviews which obviously didn't take long so they also went for lunch then here he was back home with you. he walked up to you and opened his arms wide for you to hug him. his left hand fell so he could gently place it on your stomach hoping that the baby would kick for him, which it almost always did.

a huge smile formed on his face when he held the strong kicks coming from the baby. he placed little kisses on your head as you cuddled yourself more into him. "how was your day sweetheart?" you snuggled into him further and sighed in contentment. "boring, couldn't move for ages because i was so tired. i was gonna start packing the hospital bag and do laundry but i couldn't get off the sofa"

"don't worry about the laundry baby, i'll do it later" he kissed your forehead again and tried to hold you as close as possible. "wanna go watch tv? i'll even let you pick" he said making you smile up at him. with a small nod of your head he lent in to kiss you for the first time that day he let go of you. you picked up the sandwich which had been forgotten on the kitchen counter and waddled your way back to the sofa.

after a few minutes of you scrolling through the different channels you felt the sofa dip beside you and Pedro's arm go around your shoulders pulling you carefully into his side. you felt his hand stroking your arms softly as you finally picked "Bridgerton" and finally let yourself relax in Pedro's hold, feeling the small pecks on your head throughout the show.

-

"what do you think the baby is?" you asked as the comforting silence between the two of you filled the bedroom, the only thing that could be heard was the tv which you both weren't paying attention too. you had decided to keep the gender a secret until he/she was born and now you were growing closer and closer to them being here the nerves were growing and so was your curiosity.

Pedro looked down at you and smiled softly, he had thought about the baby every day and what it was going to look like, what the gender was, what it's first word would be, all the normal things a parent thought about. "i don't know but i hope it's a girl and i hope she looks exactly like you because you're beautiful" you smiled brightly and felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

"what if it's a boy?" you questioned, feeling Pedro's hand on your bump and the strong kicks coming from your baby who was still wide awake at this late hour for some reason. "then it's a boy, i'm still gonna love them whatever they are. but i do really hope that it's a girl. she'd be so cute. also all the names we have picked out are for girls so" you laughed, it was true, every single name you had were all girl names.

comfortable silence filled the room again and Pedro let his eyes fall onto the bed covers where your bump was. he just couldn't believe his baby was in there, growing beautifully. it was just the most perfect thing. "you are the most beautiful person i've ever seen." you looked up at him and saw him staring right at you, his eyes filled with adoration. your heart swelled as you listened to him.

"stop it" you said, turning your head so you could hide your blush which covered your cheeks. "i'm not kidding, you are so perfect. i love you" he said moving his head so he could place a few kisses on your cheek making you giggle as his beard tickled you. "can you come out with me tomorrow? want you to be at work with me. don't want you to be stuck in here all day by yourself" he let his head rest in your neck with his body just off to the side with his hand resting on your bump, again.

"i'll see how i am, they might keep me up all night and you know how i am when i'm tired" you kissed his head and felt kisses being placed on your neck. before you got pregnant you and tired just didn't mix well and it got even worse ever since you did get pregnant. you didn't mean to be mean but if you were tired you'd become snappy and annoyed very easily.

"god don't remind me" Pedro joked remembering how you snapped at him yesterday because he was just there, he didn't do anything wrong you were just tired and annoyed because the baby didn't let you sleep. "even though you snap at me i still love you so much. my favourite girl" he said, pulling his head out of your neck so he could kiss you. "yeah okay, i love you too" you said smiling at him.

-

Pedro got up before you every single morning just so he knew you'd have your vitamins ready for when you did wake up. it was rare for him to be there when you woke up unless it was a quiet day and he didn't have to work until the afternoon which was when you'd usually go to work with him. it put his mind at ease when he knew you had all your parental vitamins next to you so you wouldn't forget to take them.

he would leave little love notes next to them just letting you know he loved you and that he was proud of you, even if you didn't do anything but sit around all day he was still proud, you were carrying a whole child inside of you and you were coping so well. if it took the stress of you remembering every morning and it made your life a little bit easier he would do it.

as well as love notes he'd send you messages throughout the day just checking in to see if you were alright and if you needed anything. he always made sure he wasn't too far away from the apartment just incase something did happen. today in particular you were in a lot of pain, your back was killing you and so was your legs, just walking around was hurting you.

you had decided to start packing the baby bag just in case something happened you'd be prepared. the baby was kicking constantly and you'd gotten hardly any sleep that night because of the kicking and you just wanted them to be here so you could have a somewhat decent sleep. Pedro always woke up if you shook him, he was the one who could sort of calm the baby down with his talking but sometimes nothing worked.

he would always help you get comfortable before he would rest his head just above your bump so he could whisper to the baby. "need to stop giving your mama a hard time, she needs sleep baby" he would leave little kisses on your bump which made his heart swell with love just because he knew his baby was in there 'responding' to him. "we love you angel but give your mama a break"

it wasn't very often he had to do that but the nights you'd be overly tired from the baby kicking you he would do anything to make you as comfortable as possible. carrying the baby was hard, it felt like you were lugging around a watermelon and it was sometimes so painful you couldn’t even get up to brush your hair. Pedro saw how difficult it was for you when he was home and when he wasn’t there he’d always send you texts saying ‘he was so proud of you’ and that ‘you were doing so well’, the messages, somehow, always made you feel better.

-

it was late and Pedro was on his way home from filming. you were making dinner for the two of you and you were waiting for him to finally come home after a long day doing interviews. you had been craving your favourite pastry from the bakery which wasn’t too far away from your apartment all day. you had tried to get yourself ready but your feet were killing you and so was your back so getting there didn’t happen.

"y/n? i'm home love" you heard Pedro shout and then the door closing behind him. you turned to face the kitchen door and your heart melted once you saw the small bag with the bakery's logo on it. "i got this for you on the way home. i got there just in time, they were about to close" he said as he walked to you.

once he got to you, you wrapped your arms around his waist and placed a small kiss on his chest "how did you know i was craving something from there" you smiled, feeling his arms around you tighten slightly. "i guess i'm a psychic. i had a feeling" he kissed your forehead and rubbed your back before you pulled away, almost forgetting that you were cooking.

"how was today?" you said, your back facing Pedro as you focused on the food. "it was alright, wanted to be here with you though" he replied wrapping his arms around you from behind, making you smile and lean your head back against his shoulder.

"you look so beautiful, so so pretty" he whispered, kissing your cheek which was now a bright red shade. his hand was on your belly, rubbing it gently as your baby kicked. "you're so strong, carrying our baby. you're doing so well sweetheart. so perfect. i'm so lucky to have you" anytime Pedro saw you his heart swelled with love, you were carrying his baby and you looked so beautiful doing so. he couldn't wait for these last two months to pass because it meant he could finally meet your beautiful baby and he was so excited.

"you look so beautiful, so so pretty" he whispered, kissing your cheek which was now a bright red shade. his hand was on your belly, rubbing it gently as your baby kicked. "you're so strong, carrying our baby. you're doing so well sweetheart. so perfect. i'm so lucky to have you" anytime Pedro saw you his heart swelled with love, you were carrying his baby and you looked so beautiful doing so. he couldn't wait for these last two months to pass because it meant he could finally meet your beautiful baby and he was so excited.

"you look so beautiful, so so pretty" he whispered, kissing your cheek which was now a bright red shade. his hand was on your belly, rubbing it gently as your baby kicked. "you're so strong, carrying our baby. you're doing so well sweetheart. so perfect. i'm so lucky to have you" anytime Pedro saw you his heart swelled with love, you were carrying his baby and you looked so beautiful doing so. he couldn't wait for these last two months to pass because it meant he could finally meet your beautiful baby and he was so excited.

“y/n? i’m home love” you heard Pedro shout and then the door closing behind him. you turned to face the kitchen door and your heart melted once you saw the small bag with the bakery’s logo on it. “i got this for you on the way home. i got there just in time, they were about to close” he said as he walked to you.

once he got to you, you wrapped your arms around his waist and placed a small kiss on his chest “how did you know i was craving something from there” you smiled, feeling his arms around you tighten slightly. “i guess i’m a psychic. i had a feeling” he kissed your forehead and rubbed your back before you pulled away, almost forgetting that you were cooking.

“how was today?” you said, your back facing Pedro as you focused on the food. “it was alright, wanted to be here with you though” he replied wrapping his arms around you from behind, making you smile and lean your head back against his shoulder.

“you look so beautiful, so so pretty” he whispered, kissing your cheek which was now a bright red shade. his hand was on your belly, rubbing it gently as your baby kicked. “you’re so strong, carrying our baby. you’re doing so well sweetheart. so perfect. i’m so lucky to have you” anytime Pedro saw you his heart swelled with love, you were carrying his baby and you looked so beautiful doing so. he couldn’t wait for these last two months to pass because it meant he could finally meet your beautiful baby and he was so excited.

[daisybianca]

pairing: charles leclerc x femalereader

summary: getting married to the man himself, charles leclerc.

warning: none, just pure fluff

STANDING IN FRONT of the mirror, you couldn’t believe the woman you were looking at right now, so beautiful.

Wearing a wedding gown, hair tied up and not having much makeup on.

That was you.

You were that woman.

You always have dreamed about what this day would be like since you were almost 20 and here you are about to witness it for real now.

“Hey, you ready?” You heard your best friend say after a slight knock on your door.

“Yeah, come in.” You sighed looking at your reflection one last time and turned around.

“Oh. My. God. You look so beautiful, honey!” Your mom exclaimed as soon as she set her eyes on you.

“Wow, (y/n), Charles won’t be able to keep his hands to himself today, I’m sure.” Your cousin commented earning a smack from (y/b/f/n) on her shoulders.

Your mom walked towards you, having a hard time not to shed happy tears but failed, “I cannot believe my princess will be married in a few minutes." You wiped her tears from your mom's cheeks, using your thumb in a gentle and comforting way. "Oh, I wish your dad was alive to see this day."

“He is with us, Ma. Here in our hearts. He is with us all the time." You assured your mom with a smile and hugged her.

There was a knock on the door which lead you to break the hug. The door opened, revealing your younger brother.

“Excuse me, have you seen my sister? I can’t seem to find her.” Your brother joked making the four women in the room laugh.

“You look incredible." He said and hugged you tight.

“Come on now, I’m not going to tear up like mom. It’s time to go.” He said breaking the hug and kissing you on the cheek.

・❥・

You heard the pianist start playing Canon in D - Pachelbel means you had to start walking down the aisle in seconds. You held your brother's hand tight and sighed nervously.

“Everything will be okay. Don’t worry, I won’t make you trip.” He mumbled to you, placing his palm on yours. You nodded in response and breathed in trying to calm down your racing heart.

The doors opened and you started walking, that’s when you caught a pair of green/blue eyes staring back at you.

There he was.

The love of your life, the man of your dreams standing by the end, waiting for you.

He smiled at you which caused you to blush hard under your veil.

Once you and your brother reached the end, he kissed you on the cheek and placed your hand on top of Charles'.

“Take good care of her.” He said in a very stern voice to Charles and walked off to stand beside your mom.

You could see a few drivers in their seats behind you. You'd wave at them but you just didn't want to ruin the moment with you and Charles.

Your wedding was about you and your husband, Charles. You wanted to feel every damn minute of it.

“We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in the bonds of holy matrimony.” The priest started.

“Let’s all get to the vows now, (y/n)?”

“Charles, for so long, I wondered if I would ever find my prince, my soul mate, then 5 years ago I met you at a party thinking you were just a friend but instead I found everything that I’d ever been looking for my whole life. And now, here we are with our future before us and I only want to spend it with you. My prince, my soul mate, my best friend.” You said gazing into his eyes.

“Charles?” The priest mumbled.

“I promise to love you, honour you, cherish you as my wife. I vow to hold your hand in my hand to hold your head in my hands and to hold your heart in mine. I love you and I always will. I pledge to be your faithful, honest and loving husband. Let’s build a life of laughter, love, support and charity. Let us create a warm and welcoming space for the good times. Let us be a home for each other, forever and ever.” Charles completed the vows by kissing your knuckles.

“Do you Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc take (y/n) (l/n) to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The priest asked.

“I do.” He didn't hesitate as his eyes found yours.

“Do you (y/n) (l/n) take Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc as your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest then turned to you.

“I do.” You replied with a breath.

“I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

With that, Charles lifted your veil and kissed you passionately as the crowd cheered from the seats.

He slipped his arms around your waist and nuzzled your neck with his nose before kissing you repeatedly up to your ear, where he whispered. “You look so beautiful, Mrs (y/n) Leclerc.” Charles complimented and kissed you again while the crowed continued filling the church with noise. "Words cannot describe how much I love you, my wife."

●○•°•○●

requests are always open for my wags <3

[hanniejji]

bottle of memories

[ father!diluc ragnvindr x child!reader ]

summary: diluc brings you a bottle of memories shared between him and your mother.

notes: a very late weinlesefest fic oof, and a rare fluffy phoenix scenario lmao | m.list

words: 1258 | warnings: unedited lol wrote this as work

"y/n?"

you teared your eyes away from your book, meeting diluc's eyes from the door to your room. gently, you set your quil aside.

"yes, dad?"

"are you," his voice trails off at the end, eyes not able to meet your confused gaze as he turns his head to look at the side.

this is so unlike him, you thought.

"is there something wrong?"

"are you busy today?"

"eh?" you quirk an eyebrow in confusion.

why is he asking me this when he's supposed to be the busy one between us? you pondered, watching him cough behind his hand out of bashfulness. i thought, as the winery, he's supposed to be busy at the weinlesefest?

wait, is this because of me?

your eyebrows pinched together in concern.

"i'm free for the rest of the day, dad," you push yourself up from your study table, approaching his form at the door, "is there something you want to tell me?"

"yes, i—" diluc pauses, releasing a deep sigh and shaking his head.

"seriously," you whined, irritated at the way he's drawing the conversation, "just tell me what it is. you're scaring me."

"apologies, it's nothing bad really," chuckling, diluc smiles at your annoyed look.

there's a weird sense of comfort that he gets whenever you express yourself without hesitating, like you used to a few years ago. a visible evidence of having fixed the misunderstandings between the two of you. you're not as reserved as you used to be. slowly, you started to act more like… yourself, in front of him.

and he couldn't ask for anything more better than your comfort.

"would you like to join me for the day?"

"what about the weinlesefest?" you quirk your head, "isn't the tavern going to be crowded with people for the whole week? not to mention—" a finger slightly scratched your chin in thought, "you're releasing a new mix specially made for the festival and you're opening a stall in springvale today."

diluc watches you ponder in amusement, "and?"

"what do you mean 'and'?" your hands rest on your waist in an act of sterness, before a loud gasp escapes you.

"what?"

"i cannot believe you're ditching your work!" you point an accusing finger at diluc, "you have piles of paper in your desk—no, don't deny it, i was the one who delivered those papers! and you're setting aside all of those!? who are you and what have you done to my dad!?"

diluc couldn't stop himself from grinning at the way you're scolding him, shaking his head at your accusations before sighing a little dramatic, feigning offense. times when you act like this really reminds him of your mother.

"i can't believe my own child is accusing me of inefficiency, have i not done well in my previous endeavors?"

"don't gaslight me!"

"anyways," he clears his throat—ignoring your offended gasp, "nevertheless, of course i would choose to spend some time with my only child over my work. those can wait," he gingerly pats your head, "i have something more important to show you."

your voice gets caught in your throat, unable to form a comeback to his words. you are still not used to your own dad prioritizing you over anything else—he always has, just not in a… proper way, for the lack of better words—thus always rendering you speechless when he makes it known. have you received such treatment when you were younger, maybe you could've said something witty in response. just anything to turn the table against your sometimes menace of a father. instead, you're left looking like a fish out of its tank before choosing to pout as your last defense.

"you win this time."

"i always do," he smiles smugly at your defeated glare before turning to exit, "well then, shall we go? you did say you were free, did you not?"

"okay okay!"

diluc fondly watches you go about your room, grumbling about the 'inconvenience' he had brought upon last minute. something that your mother used to do when she was still alive.

"ready, dear?"

you perk up, jacket thrown over your shoulders and standing alert—imitating that of a soldier.

"uh huh!"

you were, unfortunately, not as ready as you thought you were.

"this is…" your voice trailed off, confused eyes staring at the stone tablet in front of you, hands almost trembling when your head finally registered the name engraved into the stone.

here lies our beloved lady, wife, and mother.

lady ragnvindr.

you've never been to your mother's grave before.

the grass around it is properly trimmed, a few buds of dandelions growing behind the stone. reaching over to touch the engravings, the surface cold and smooth to the touch tells you that it's been taken care of very well. a paper bag was placed right beside the stone, someone's been here before you.

for reasons that are still not clear to you, your lips tremble and the back of your eyes starts stinging with the onslaught of tears.

"your mother used to dream of spending the weinlesefest together, just the three of us," diluc kneels beside your unmoving form, the smile on his face melancholic yet deep in his heart, he knows he has learned to accept the truth and the present. had he not done so, he wouldn't be able to gather the courage to take you to your mother's grave.

taking a deeper breath, he reaches for the paper bag right beside the stone and takes out its content—'it' being a bottle of unlabelled wine, the purple liquid inside sloshing as he passes the bottle to you.

wait, to you?

"what's this for?" you turn the bottle around in your hand. finding nothing written, you look up to diluc's soft eyes questioningly.

"you're mother and i made that in her second trimester," he chuckles at a memory, "she wanted to give you this despite my reasoning that you would be too young to drink it even if it's ready for consumption. alas," he sighs fondly, "she won the argument. as she always does," he turns to give you a teasing look, "you don't seem to inherit her victorious chain when it comes to arguments."

"rude," you huffed, sending him a glare before looking down at the bottle in your hand, "can i open it?"

"of course."

"can i… drink it?"

"dear, you're too young for that," he ruffles the top of your head affectionately, "maybe in a few more years, hm?"

"hmp, a shame," you uncapped the bottle, bringing the top to your nose and breathing in its strong scent. you scrunch your nose and backed away, "archons, that's old."

"it's as old as you are, dear."

"is it grapes and sunsettia?"

"indeed," he nods approvingly, "there's a few other fruits your mother had mixed in but it's mostly those two."

in a hushed voice, the two of you casually discussed the contents of the wine with diluc sharing your mother's thoughts on each fruit. it somehow felt comforting to spend time with your father in front of your mother's grave. it makes you feel as if you're spending time with her as well, the mental images of your mother that you've seen in pictures flashing in your head, imagining the sound of her voice and her gentle smile.

"can you tell me more about her?" resting against diluc's shoulder, you fiddle with the bottle's cap, staring right at your mother's name engraved on her grave.

diluc smiles at this, one arm over your shoulder.

"of course, my phoenix."

[takami-takami]

Animal abuse, father posting

Okay. So.

My dad was supposed to take the dog to the vet today. My sibling, the only person who could drive, had work at his appointment time.

He came to agree a few days ago before the argument. My older sibling said Chowchow had an appointment and they couldn't drive me. I was in the room. My mom offered for my dad to drive. My dad accepted. He said "chowchow is family, of course I'll do it."

Fast forward to now. There was a large argument the other day in which at the end, I criticized him heavily before leaving. Me and my sibling were eating lunch and he was spam texting them. My sibling was stressed.

I asked them what was wrong, and they told me that they think my dad is doing his puppeteering thing again. They told me my dad is being weird and trying to triangulate them in order to get me reinvolved with him so he can argue with me and get payback for what I said since he had no closure.

And that involved him saying, "I wasn't going to take Chowchow because your sibling (me) asked me, but since you were nice to me, I'll do it. Just know I'm not doing it for [V]." And was being weird about it.

I didn't ask him to take Chowchow to the vet, my sibling brought up that Chowchow needed a ride to the vet and my mom offered he go with my brother.

My sibling brought that up when explaining the situation to me. "Like, you weren't even the one who asked but he's framing it like that because you know how dad is. He's trying to provoke you into starting an argument with him."

I ended up calling to reschedule the vet appointment to later today (thank god they had an opening) because my sibling did not feel safe leaving Chowchow with my dad.

On the drive back, my sibling told me they have reason to suspect my dad would hit him if Chowchow were to bite him. And that growing up, I have reason to believe he hurt Chowchow.

For context, he also threatened to kill Chowchow about 12-13 years ago.

I told my sibling if my dad tries touching Chowchow, it won't be like when I defend mom or the siblings from my dad getting physical. I won't stand between them as a human shield, I will physically fucking hurt him to defend. I do not care what happens to me. I will physically hurt him. And I did not say this, but I will psychologically hurt him to the best of my ability with the amount of dirt I have on this piece of shit.

I had a friend once tell me I should tell him I don't forgive him on his deathbed because that is his greatest fear, and if I have reason to suspect he will harm Chowchow, I likely will do something of that caliber.

Chowchow spends most of the time I'm home with me and my dad pays little mind to him. Except for lately, in which my mom encouraged me to get him involved in socializing with Chowchow for Chowchow's enrichment. Which I fully fucking regret. Because if he is dangling Chowchow's vet appointment like this over our heads, it means Chowchow is within possibility of being a chip. It means my dad is thinking about Chowchow, whereas before Chowchow was not paid attention to or noticed.

The best me and my sibling can do is pretend that we don't care as much as possible. I told them to lie and say the vet called to reschedule, and to mention the name of the doctor Chowchow sees in order to make it more believeable as a lie (my sibling does not know the doctor's name).

This is extraordinarily enraging to me. And I do not know how exactly I am going to handle it besides being strategic and waiting it out until the topic bores him.

I don't have anywhere to go that could take him. The best I can do is wait until november when I start training to work part time. This won't cover any rent or anything because it will be far too little but it will be good to save up to move.

I also cannot put him in a shelter or rescue. He is far too old and high needs. He has dementia. He needs his routine and he needs his people. The best I can do is make sure he is not within the realm of possibility.

Because as amused as I was for my dad trying to start an argument with me (not sarcastic. I actually do like having the upper hand on him. Fucking hate him.) I am really hoping he does not notice Chowchow.

[sister-juniper]

Safe With Me (Terzo x Reader)

Prompt was suggested by @saruman-the-silly

feel free to comment with any suggestions for oneshots :3

★ Angst with comfort/fluff :) ★

my ao3

my wattpad

☆ Word count: 1252 ☆

⊹₊ ☆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊ ☆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊ ☆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊ ☆₊ ⊹

You were lounging on the bed in Papa Terzo's quarters. He was out for the day, as Papa Emeritus he is incredibly busy. You as a sibling of sin don't have very many duties, especially since you began seeing Papa. He had gotten you excused from most of your duties.

You were relaxing in the black and purple bedding, the time was 8:00 pm. You could see the sun setting beautifully through the massive window behind his desk. Terzo should be back within an hour at most. You were excited! You had been longing to see him all day. You were quite attached to him, he made you feel the safest and most loved you have felt in years.

Suddenly, you feel your phone buzzing next to you on the sheets. Not really wanting much social interaction with others at the moment, you groan in dissatisfaction as you grab the phone and look at the screen. It is an unknown number. That's weird...

You press the button to answer and hold the phone up to your ear. An all too familiar voice fills your ears.

"Y/N, where have you been?"

It is your father. 

You had fled your home in search of something better a few years ago, and in doing so you found the ministry. You had blocked everyone including both of your parents. They were conservative and abusive. You never, ever, wanted to hear from them again. 

Your breath was caught in your throat. How on earth did they get your number? 

"U-um. Hi" you choked out

"Y/N, answer me. Where have you been?!?" your father yells over the phone

You curl your knees to your chest "I ran away..."

"We have been trying to get in touch with you for years! How dare you just abandon us like that!!"

You want to hang up. You want to so badly, but your body and mind just won't let you. Part of you is too afraid to.

"Y/N, answer me this instant!!"

"I am staying somewhere else..." you say as tears prick at your eyes

"Tell me more..." your father states sternly

"No, im not going to!" you yell into the phone

"Y/N!! How dare you raise your voice at me!! Has the devil gotten to you or something?" Your father screams

Your body starts to shake, you feel yourself beginning to be on the urge of a panic attack. You must stay strong though, you must.

"You need to come home this instant. You have brought shame to our community..."

"NO! Im not doing that. I am happy where I am!"

"Stupid child, I am your father. You. Listen. To. Me!"

"I am an adult, I make my own decisions!!" You scream as tears stream down your face

"Not in our community you don't. I still make the decisions."

"Well fuck that. Im not in the community anymore!"

"Cursing now huh? What has gotten into you??"

You clench the phone in your hand as your breathing speeds up "Im happier now. Just leave me alone."

"This is what the outside world does to you. It brainwashes you! You cannot be happier"

"Well, I am. Deal with it, Dad."

"All that's out there is hellish and the devil. There is nothing good."

"Who says the devil is bad?" You say quietly into the phone

"Who says?? Everyone says!! What is your problem?? Are you nuts?!"

Now you are sobbing, and trying desperately to control your breathing. Him speaking to you again after years absolutely terrifies you. It was one of your worst nightmares after leaving the community, and now it is happening. But you cannot show your weak side to him, you must stay strong.

"The devil sure is better than you ever were."

Before your father can respond, you hang up the phone. You throw your phone down on the bed and curl up in a fit of sobs. You can't believe what had just happened. His voice brought you back to years ago when you were living under his roof.

Your breathing is frantic, and your entire body is shaking. You are having a panic attack and you know it. 

Very soon, Terzo has arrived back. You hear the faint sound of keys turning the doorknob and suddenly the two of you are in the room together. He takes in the sight of your shaking figure and panicked, tear-stricken face and he is immediately filled with concern.

"Mio caro, what happened? Is everything okay?" He questions as he approaches you

You open your mouth to respond but all that comes out is a pained sob. Terzo sits on the bed and pulls you into his embrace.

"Hey... it's gonna be okay yes? Im right here..."

You bury your face in his chest and sob into his arms. He rubs your back and kisses the top of your head in an attempt to comfort you.

"I love you... everything will be alright.. you are safe with me..."

"I-I love you too.." you say through sniffles

After around 10 minutes, you can feel your breathing beginning to become more normal, and you start to calm down. Your tears stop flowing, and he holds you close. You lift your head up to look at him.

"Do you want to talk about what happened amorina? Only if you want" he says with a soft smile

"Yeah, I do..."

He lets go of you so you can sit up and look at him face-to-face.

"I got a call from a random number. I answer it, and it is my father on the other end of the line..."

Terzo is taken aback "Your father? Cazzo... you told me about him.."

"Yeah, him. Well, he had apparently been trying to contact me for years and he wasn't too happy.."

"He yelled at me, he said a lot of nasty things, but I didn't show him my weak side"

Terzo puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Whatever nasty thing he said is not true you know. You are perfect"

You smile a little "Thank you..."

"He said a lot of things about how the devil is getting to me. I guess that part is true" you say with a small chuckle

Terzo smiles in return "Sí, the devil is not bad. It is how you found this ministry, it is how you found me"

"I am a little scared though..."

"Why is that? You are safe with me, you are always going to be safe with me"

"I don't know.. what if he finds me somehow?"

Terzo sighs and pulls you close to him again. "He will never be able to get you. I will always be by your side"

"What about when you are on tour? When you are busy?"

"Ah well, I can just have a ghoul keep watch over you. They will tear the hands off anyone who tries to harm you"

You smile against his chest "Okay... thank you Terz..."

Terzo presses a kiss to your forehead "Of course mi amore, do you feel a bit better now?"

"Yes.. I do.."

"Good! Im glad. Just remember, im always by your side forever. No matter what"

You sit up and press a kiss to his lips. You pull back and the two of you look deep into each others' eyes.

"You are everything to me amore, always remember that. Your father is not here to hurt you any longer. It is just you and I now"

He pulls you into another kiss. You will be forever thankful that the dark lord has blessed you with the life you have currently. It is out of your wildest wishes, and you never want it to end. You are safe, you no longer live with your abusive family. 

You are safe in the arms of Terzo Emeritus, you are safe within the walls of the Ministry, for all eternity.

⊹₊ ☆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊ ☆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊ ☆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊ ☆₊ ⊹

[fetchmearum420]

TW: religion, anxiety

I haven’t really been posting as much because if I’m being honest, my anxiety is the worst it’s ever been.

A few weeks ago, I stupidly googled near death experiences that caused someone to go to hell, and it scared the absolute shit out of me. I had a massive, massive panic and anxiety attack. Because the description of what the person saw was traumatizing and horrific and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

I then went through a whole religion thing and questioned everything and myself. I’ve always believed in God but I’ve never been overly religious and I’m still not.

I couldn’t go to sleep at night without freaking out and thinking about hell. I was absolutely terrified that I am gonna go there when I d*e.

I eventually talk to my mom about all this and she helped me calm down and talk things out. But it was absolutely terrifying. I caused all this on myself because I was stupid and googled something I shouldn’t have. I cannot believe I would even do something like that knowing how severe my anxiety already is and has been.

And then I went away to Wildwood and the first two days were awful. Originally my parents weren’t supposed to go and I went with my grandparents. But that ended up not working out because we were at a new hotel this year, and my favorite cousins weren’t there so those two changes absolutely fucked me up and my nervous system shut down and I started to have bathroom problems. I couldn’t go 5 minutes without having to go again. And it was loose too. I know that’s gross, I’m sorry.

I call my mom the second day we’re there and I was sobbing to her, begging her and my dad to find a way to come here to take me home. Luckily they did. The next day they came and they stayed a couple days and I went home with them. I knew I wouldn’t be able to calm down unless they were here. The rest of the trip was great and fun.

So yeah, over my stupid ass googling something I shouldn’t of, I caused my anxiety to go berserk, which it hasn’t been that bad in forever.

Luckily 1776 and Friends helped me a lot to calm down and relax a bit.

Now my anxiety is just bad but not terrible. I can manage it. It’s just going to sleep is hard because all the thoughts come in and I think about shit I shouldn’t be thinking and it sucks. But we’re looking into it and I’m hoping to go back on medication soon.

So yeah, that’s been my life for the past month. So if I don’t post as often, I’m sorry. I just kinda need to figure out everything and get my anxiety to a good point.

[m0thmachine]

Family

This is a long post, but I hope somebody will take the time to read it. It's about my Zionist family. My Zionist, pro-Netanyahu family. My family that, as I peel back the layers, has more I've been looking away from.

When I was a child, my mom and dad promised to love me forever. They sang songs to me about it, read books to me about it, and told me their love was unconditional. They raised me and guided me. During some of the most pain I have experienced, they took care of me; they provided love and understanding. Unconditional love.

Whenever I had the hope to imagine a future, my parents were there. My wedding would have them walking me down the aisle. Just a few weeks ago, my mother and the Rabbi were discussing wedding plans with me, as we walked to my Bubby’s grave, my fiancé with us. My mom has been asking about making concrete plans for a date or venue excitedly, whenever there’s nothing else in the way.

I went to a protest to call for a ceasefire. I protested for Palestine, in a crowd with several other Jews, where a Jewish speaker from a Jewish organization was given the mic and led cheers.

I didn’t tell my family I was going, because I knew they were afraid. They said these rallies were antisemitic. I thought they were misinformed, or responding to truly antisemitic incidents. I went to support Palestine, but also to see for myself. I went to call for a ceasefire, but also to tell my parents “see? You don’t need to be scared. These people are our allies for peace.”

But my parents and sister didn’t care that there was no antisemitism at the protest; they didn’t care that it started by shouting out and thanking Jewish organizations who led sit-ins for Palestine.

According to my family, there is a simple formula.

Hamas hates all Jews. Thus, Hamas should be wiped out, as they are a threat to Jewish survival. Every person who does not stand up against Hamas is complicit, and thus hates Jews and should be wiped out. People outside of Gaza are not Palestinian–someone we know whose father grew up in Haifa, for example, cannot call herself or her father Palestinian. Thus, everyone who is Palestinian is in Gaza. And everyone in Gaza supports Hamas, explicitly or implicitly. And everyone who supports Hamas hates all Jews and is a threat to us.

This formula leaves 2 things clear.

Any pro-Palestine protest or rally, regardless of Jewish participation or even leadership, regardless of what is actually said, is an antisemitic hate rally.

Israel is only taking out enemies to Jews. To defend the dead in Gaza is to defend terrorists.

If I don’t renounce my support for Palestine, I am an antisemite to them. My father told me in an email that I am desecrating my family’s memory. The Rabbi referred to my attendance at a protest as a burden on my family, and expressed his sympathy and support to them. My father and sister already told me they don’t wish to speak with me if I’m not willing to listen—to listen to why denouncing thousands dead as a genocide makes me an antisemite.

When I was a baby, they sang to me about loving me forever.

Even if my family were to forgive me, I don’t know if I can ever go back. If they refuse to respect Palestinian identity as legitimate, and if they continue to justify bombing hospitals and whole neighborhoods as a necessary act of self-defense, I don’t think I can ever look at them the same way again.

I believe in protecting those who are in danger. I believe in living with others and finding beauty in difference. I believe in the inherent value of a human life. I believe that nobody should ever be forced to leave their home behind or face death. I believe that no child is evil. I believe that history will repeat if we ignore it.

These are all things I learned from my parents.

I cannot begin to understand how the values they instilled in me are so easy to wave away for them. My friends, who have known them for years, say it doesn’t sound like them. They say there must be some kind of misunderstanding.

But every time I assume ignorance, or that they could at least agree to a ceasefire or how terrible it is to harm civilians, they surprise me. They email me Hamas’ old charter, and say that any support of Palestine is to agree with it. They say that if the people in Gaza didn’t want to die, they should go to another Arab country, or renounce Hamas. They say that a Jewish state must exist for us to be safe. They say that Palestine wouldn’t exist without Israel, who provides them food and water, and that it’s selfish and hypocritical for Palestine to say they’re oppressed. They cut off their only Palestinian friend for posting in support of Palestine, and then tell me that I’m in an echo chamber and have fallen for propaganda.

I need to start planning my wedding. I don’t know if it will be a Jewish wedding, if my Rabbi will refuse to officiate it. I asked another anti-Zionist Jew in Montreal, and they said that there’s no anti-Zionist synagogues here. I’ve effectively been excommunicated. I don’t know if my parents or sister will come to the wedding. I don’t know if that will be my choice or theirs.

Ima, my mother who I address in Hebrew. Ima, who taught me what love feels like. Ima, who instilled in me a sense of justice. Ima, how could you tell me that cutting off food and water to people is justified? How could you tell me that blowing up hospitals is necessary? How could you tell me that being appalled by this makes me less Jewish?

Part of the pain is that this has peeled back walls I have put up, to prevent cognitive dissonance from splitting my skull. There are other signs seeping out, that I have turned a blind eye to things I would normally never abide by.

When my mother said that Israel had to cut off food and water and power in Gaza to defeat Hamas, I said that collective punishment is not right. I brought up a much more mild example, but one close to home: I am transgender, and I said that I would never support collective punishment on the people of the UK or US South, despite laws that deny trans peoples’ identities, that ban us from sports, and that seek to prevent us from being allowed to discuss our existence around children.

My mother, who had defended my gender before, who calls me her son, said that she doesn’t disagree with those laws.

She said that she thinks some things have gone too far, and that the laws around sports are fine, and that children shouldn’t be thinking about their genders, it shouldn’t be in schools.

How long had I been looking the other way?

Today J.K. Rowling called all trans women rapists. A few weeks ago, the Prime Minister of the UK said that trans women are men and trans men are women. My parents have plans to go to London soon, where they’ll pay to go to a Harry Potter exhibit.

If my parents said they don’t hate Palestinians and don’t hate trans people, that was enough for me. Of course they couldn’t. They’re not hateful people. They’re good people.

If my parents expressed love for Israel, they were only afraid of Hamas. If my parents supported an author who hates people like me, it was only out of ignorance, or a deep love for the series.

My parents would never justify genocide.

My parents would never give money to people who call people like my friends and myself rapists and invalid.

My parents would view calling for a ceasefire as good, and civilian death as horrible.

Right?

Right, Ima?

Even if my parents “forgive” me—forgive me for the crime of standing among waving Palestinian flags, for chanting “ceasefire now,” for saying a country does not speak for me—I don’t know if I can ever see them the same way again.

There comes a point where love isn’t enough.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi, I’m a 22 year old INFP in college. I’m at a point where I am deeply unhappy with my position in life, and I’d like your advice for how I should proceed. I want to change so badly and have been trying for so long, but somehow my efforts seem to never amount to any substantial change. I’m really sorry, this is going to be long and contain a lot of backstory. I have a lot of respect for you and have been reading your blog for years, and you seem incredibly wise; however I understand if you do not have the time to answer this. But if so, I appreciate it more than anything.

I come from an extremely dysfunctional family, whom I still live with. My mother is truly a narcissist, and I believe she’s an xSFP. She’s extremely dysfunctional and can hardly handle herself let alone her children. She has extreme nonconformist opinions (anti-vax, total disregard of modern medicine, arranged marriages, etc) and has instilled so much self-hatred into me. She cannot handle anyone who thinks differently from her. She blames me, my dad, and my younger brother for everything wrong with our household. For the past few days she’s been especially horrible, constantly berating me and calling me a failure. She’s extremely toxic but believes herself to be a saint.

My father is an ISFJ who is a total enabler. He suffers at the hand of my mother too yet will throw us under the bus whenever and never stick up for me or my siblings, even though he too gets treated horribly. I believe if he married a better woman he would’ve been salvageable, as he seems to just adapt to my mom’s views, although he gets so much shit from her too.

I don’t think I’ve experienced genuine love from my parents, ever. They’ve always wanted me to be something I’m not. They never approved of my interests (arts, humanities) or valued my opinions. When I was 17 they discovered that I was self-harming regularly, and instead of helping me, my mother shamed me for months and called me evil, a child of the devil. My father cried and asked me, how could you do this? What did we do wrong for you to end up like this?

I have a whole lot of pain in my heart. I’ve worked on myself to the point where I, when needed, can speak relatively objectively about who I am and my strengths. I no longer self-harm. But in my darkest moments, I have completely adapted the label of “evil” and beat myself up over it.

Despite being 22, I do not have my driver’s license. I’ve had my permit since I was 16, but cannot legally drive on my own. I think I could pass the test if I practiced more. However, that would require spending time with my mother, who’s temper stresses me out to no end while on the road. Its because of this that I’ve put it off for so long. I am too unwilling and fragile to deliberately put myself in a situation where I know I will get yelled at and degraded.

Despite being 22, I am not allowed to dress in anything “revealing”, nor get my nails or eyelashes done, I am not allowed to drink, I am not allowed to date, I have a curfew, and I am not allowed to move out.

A few months ago, I tried to take control of my life. Despite all of my misfortune, I am lucky enough to have a lot of genuine friends who care for me. My best friend and I decided to move out together. We leased a place, made payments, and started packing our bags. Right before our plan to move officially, without even knowing, my parents decided to go on an impromptu road trip to our hometown. I decided not to tell them until we were driving back from the trip… huge mistake. I was mentally tortured for the entire drive back (3 days). They degraded me to no end, guilt tripped me, cried, acted like I had murdered someone. My mom even accused me of being a lesbian for moving in with another girl, which is not only disgustingly homophobic, but also makes no sense!!! At one point my mom screamed so loudly and banged on the car door in anger while my father was driving, and he ended up pulling over on the highway. She blamed me and basically said if we died it would be my fault. Scared me and my younger siblings shitless.

In the end, it was more trouble than worth. Me and my friend called it off easily, having not signed a real lease and only giving a verbal agreement. We paid the rest of the month off and continued to live at home. I had felt like such a failure. I didn’t have a job or anything, but I was so confident that after moving out and being away from all the horrible shit at home that I’d be able to get ahold of my life, develop good habits, and become my own person… but my dreams of independence and freedom were ultimately crushed, and I remain in jail.

Because of that same trip and failure to move out, I became even more depressed. My parents had overstayed by almost a week despite my protests and their apparent dream of me doing well in school, and the school work and feelings were so overwhelming that I dropped almost all of my classes that semester. They don’t know of course, I’d be dead.

I truly wish I could get my life together, learn to love myself, and move so far away from them. I never want to speak to them again, as cruel as that is. They want to marry me off one day. I can’t handle it. But I have no money, no car, I’m struggling in school… I am always thinking about how I can improve or turn things around, and I always take one step forward and then fall 5 steps behind. I hate my body, I hate my incompetence, and I hate my life. I’ve been trying for so long, reading, writing, thinking, yet I can’t seem to get anywhere.

And then there is the matter of my little siblings. 17 and 8 years old. My younger brother (17) told me during that trip that if I moved out he would kill himself because he wouldn’t be able to handle them on his own or deal with them potentially getting even stricter once I left. It made me so sick, that I wanted to throw up. Luckily, he is most likely moving away for college next year after he graduates… which they are okay with, because he is a boy I suppose. My baby sister is a trooper and understood why I wanted to move out and even pretended to be on my mother’s side. However, when I tried, my mom said she would forbid us from talking because I am a horrible influence. The thought of abandoning her with mother makes me want to cry. I thought that maybe I would secretly buy her a phone before I move out and let her keep it a secret to talk to me with. But if me moving away and living my life the way i want to made her life worse, I dont know how I’d forgive myself or make up for it.

But either way, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to move out. I hate my body and my bad habits. I try to get clean and become healthier all the time but I can’t stick with it. Something always happens with my mother having an episode and it depresses me to no end and I lose it, try again, lose it. Then with driving. I keep thinking I’ll get my license soon. I never have motivation to practice with her. I need to be able to take my self places to get a job. And even if I do get a job, I know based on my old ones that the stress of home life, my self esteem, and fragility will make it so hard to hold down a job without breaking down constantly or just giving up. And then there’s school. I want to be educated and do well so badly, but it’s so hard with how things are. What should I do? How can I change? I want to escape this nightmare and live for myself more than anything. I want to be content with who I am and comfortable in my body and in my life decisions. I want to be able to voice my opinions and follow my values without being punished, stifled, or suffocated. If I don’t figure out things soon, I fear everything will come crumbling down and the life I long for will never be realized. I promise I try to be positive and appreciative of what I do try. I try to do things that will make me happier and take steps towards a better life. I try to deconstruct my mind so that I don’t fuss over everything and accept even horrible things as they are… But I always get shot down. It always becomes too much, and my progress always becomes undone. It’s like I’m trapped and can’t get out. All I want is the basic right to be myself, unapologetically.

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

You are a young adult and it's an important aspect of young adulthood to establish an independent mindset. I believe you have it already, but your environment is not allowing you to express it fully. This is not your fault, so there is no reason to blame yourself for it.

Blame is a distraction, and it can even lead to problems like self-harm. Blame keeps you hyperfocused on the negative aspects of situations, which drains the precious mental energy you need for moving forward in positive directions. The sooner you can let go of your blaming mindset, the better you will feel and the more rational your thinking will be when tackling problems.

Remember: The blame you direct at yourself is an echo of your mother's way of blaming you. Do you want to internalize her negative attitude? If you truly have an independent mindset, you should be able to separate your own thoughts from someone else's. Where will you find the truth about you: her words or your heart?

With regard to confidence: Most people experience times in life when it seems that problems or obstacles are too big to surmount. The best approach is to break them down into very small steps and manageable goals (requires proper use of Si). By doing this, you allow yourself to feel a relatively continuous stream of small wins that gradually improve your self-confidence. Believing that you are capable is half the battle, isn't it?

With regard to motivation: You say you have good friends to support you and that's a great resource to draw from. Whenever you're feeling down, reach out for some emotional support. Whatever it is you're having difficulty with, get input or assistance from someone more knowledgeable than you. For example, is your mom the only person in the world who can help you with driving instruction? Getting encouragement and support at crucial stages of your path helps keep your motivation up.

Failing to achieve a goal doesn't make you a failure or a bad person. If you believe it does, you are still thinking like a child and it is yet another manifestation of an unhealthy blaming mindset. Failure is really an opportunity. It helps you learn new things. It helps you improve your knowledge and skills. It helps you find a better direction. What mistakes did you make last time? What do those mistakes tell you about how to do better next time? An important aspect of personal growth is learning how to turn failure into something educational, edifying, or valuable.

For INFPs, Ne development is necessary for learning how to be resourceful and making the best use of what you have, rather than always getting lost in thinking about what you don't have. You've spent a lot of words telling me how your situation sucks so that I can understand where you're coming from. But I wonder: What is good about your situation? What resources, both internal and external, are available to you? What's the best way to use those resources to achieve your goals?

[supergraphicultramoderng1rl]

hello new followers welcome to my favorite hobby! complaining about being fatherless 🫶 i bet you thought this account was gonna be me posting about criminal minds huh😂😂😂😂😂

last night one of my best friends said that she WISHES her dad had left her because he’s just suuuuuch an asshole and i literally was so shocked i genuinely like stopped breathing for a second because i was like no fucking way did she just say that to me. and there were seven people there and i looked around to see if any of them were like holy shit girl that’s an insane and ridiculously insensitive take and then i realized they literally all have present fathers and were just like quietly nodding. and i HOPE at least a few of them were thinking that it was a crazy thing to say, even if not in the context of me but it’s just genuinely insane to wish for a kind of trauma you don’t have. and i don’t doubt that her dad has traumatized her ik he’s an asshole and im not even saying my trauma is worse than hers but i just could not fucking believe she thought that was an ok thing to say. and i didn’t say anything cause like what’s the point but i was just genuinely shocked

and then today my dad double texted me saying he loves me after a week ago asking if i randomly want to have lunch when I haven’t seen him in ten years and have told him i don’t want to see him cause i know how triggering it would be for all the other shit he put me through as a child. so much of what is wrong with me is because of him and HE left a nine year old girl for drugs and now somehow i feel responsible for his feelings and guilty that i dont want to see him even though i’ve repeatedly told him im not comfortable with that. and now i have no idea how to respond because nothing i say is going to be right if its not what he wants to hear! and now im thinking about how apparently one of my closest friends thinks its better to not have a dad and to deal with this shit than it is to have a present father who’s an asshole sometimes! i simply cannot comprehend being that fucking thoughtless and inconsiderate! i would never tell her i wish my dad was a narcissistic neglectful pos because it’s better to have a dad than to have been abandoned! like u just don’t say shit like that, you don’t think shit like that, but apparently she does, apparently she plays the trauma olympics with her friends in her head all the time because she needs to be convinced her problems are the worst

fml😂🙏 have a blessed week!

[sillyboigaylus]

and now, the post you’ve all been waiting for: things my senile 85 year old grandmother has said over the time i have been staying with her over Christmas!

Grandma: where’s my grandson?

Aunt: mom you don’t have a grandson 

Grandma: no, where is my grandson?

Aunt: you don’t have one! 

Me: *silent closeted trans happiness*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cousin: hey grandma do you want to play bingo?

Grandma: oh no none of that crap. Get that out of here. 

Me: come on, play bingo with us! It’ll be fun!

Grandma: I worked so hard to build and decorate this marvelous, beautiful house for all of you, so get that bingo crap out of here

We played bingo anyway

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grandma: I cannot belive (uncles name) is so lazy. He has to help out his wife with all those kids. 

Mom: he dosent have any kids…

Grandma: no, no, he has 49 little babies. And his wife lost a leg. And he’s just leaving her to deal with all that by herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cousin: tomorrow is Christmas!

Grandma: it is?

Cousin: yep!

Grandma: we’ll shit. That sure is unfortunate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grandma, staring me directly in the eyes: well who are you?

Me: it’s me, [deadname]

Grandma: really? 

Me: yeah

Grandma: oh okay

Grandma, turning to my aunt: where’s [deadname]? I haven’t seen her around today

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grandma: you know, no one believed what was on TV last year.

Me: what was on TV?

Grandma: oh there were all these planes, and (uncle’s name) had all his kids on there…

Me: all 49 of them? 

Grandma: all 49. And I said to him, “if those kids don’t drive you to drink, nothing will.”

Me: really? 

Grandma: then I also told him he should’ve  just. kept it in his pants. Then he wouldn’t have all those kids.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Me: *telling everyone about the lobster mushroom fettuccine I made a few months ago*

Grandma: you eat mushrooms?

Me: yeah they’re one of my favorite foods

Grandma: that shit isn’t for eating. Mushrooms are a disease, not food.

Me: grandma the green beans you are eating right now have mushrooms mixed with them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cousin: are you still hungry?

Grandma: no

Cousin: come on, one more bite and you can have dessert later.

Grandma: I am getting my desert wether i eat the damn mashed potatoes or not

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For a bit of context for the next few, my grandmother dearest is convinced she’s dating Ross Perot, who if you don’t know was a presidential candidate in I think the 70’s. He also died in 2019. (don’t come after me if I’m wrong I only learned the name like 4 days ago)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grandma: you have to wear pink furs.

Cousin: I have to wear pink furs?

Grandma: yes, for Ross Perot.

Cousin: (jokingly) I have to wear pink furs to impress Ross Perot? Thanks for telling me, since I’m going to marry him.

Grandma: oh HELL no you’re not

Cousin: I’m not?

Grandma: you’re not. He’s mine. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(After a quick Google search and finding out Ross Perot is dead)

Dad: well maybe if he has a son or something-

Grandma: hell no, I don’t want no leftovers, I want the real deal or nothin.

and there you have it folks, the only reason i put up with yearly holiday trips to see family: my grandma

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Prelude to Truth.

[Back at the Tower]

I see...So that’s what you uncovered?

Yes...Sorry it took me so long to bring it up ma’am.

But myself, Sora and Monodam discovered these documents in the same room that Zetsubou were keeping Hibiki...Whether Zetsubou know it themselves or not, one fact became clear to me.

Organization took over that lab, and it was originally owned and made by the Future Foundation.

Kaede delivered this information to me first and foremost before anyone else, then I presented it to Shuichi.

We took it upon ourselves to investigate. That’s what we’ve been up to for the last few hours.

...

*Kyoko scans over the document, absorbing it’s contents.

Are you sure they aren’t forged? Some other group could have been involved?

How would they name drop Yukizome and Kizakura if it were all just forged? Future Foundation members ARE under data protection acts you know? Even now.

Besides, there’s an official seal of the Foundation on these papers. It’s a little outdated, but it’s most certainly real, I can tell at a glance.

There’s more to it than that. Like Rantaro said, we were the first two people to find out about it besides Kaede, Sora and Monodam.

After my forced leave from the Future Foundation camp, I went with Rantaro to Mr Kizakura’s estate, and presented the documents to him.

He explained everything to us, in regards to the experiments that were going on here, and the virus that Junko created...It was all just as I’ve told you.

I cannot believe this...

Did you seriously have no idea Mr Munakata?

Of course not. I would have recognized the lab and brought up the incident sooner if I did.

I’m honestly shocked...If Subject 5 really killed that many Foundation members, how did that slip under your radar?

Like Kizakura said, the Final Killing Game happened shortly after the incident...

And I think Makoto breaking Foundation code and setting off on his own expedition to Jabberwock Island might have distracted Munakata’s attention.

Oi! Don’t say that like you weren’t involved! You came with me!

Oh yeah, you DID break code to do that...Now I see where Kuripa gets it from.~

Don’t pin his bullcrap on me!

Hey! I’ve done a lot for you; don’t refer to it as “bullcrap!”

I mean, you know what they say about sins of the father?

I’m NOT HIS DAD! He’s NOT MY DAD!

Plus...Hold on, may I read that?

*Kyoko hands a piece of paper to Munakata, and he scans over it.

Just as I thought...

This document contains a list of people who were involved in the project. There are several names here that I don’t recognize.

So Tengan must have hired help from outside the academy to reduce suspicion.

You didn’t do a headcount or anything?

No...That job usually fell to Juzo or Chisa...

The latter who evidently knew the truth more than I did.

Weren’t you supposed to be the chairman? Why does it seem like you were never on top of ANYTHING!?

Hina, relax.

Remember, Munakata was the Foundation founder and leader DURING the Tragedy. His job was a LOT more hectic than Kyoko’s is now.

And my job is hectic enough as it is.

Plus, this is nothing new. Tengan kept so many secrets from Munakata AND the rest of us...Who knows how many skeletons are still hidden in his closet?

Hngh...Alright, I’m sorry...

Do not apologize. You are correct after all.

Kazuo Tengan...You bastard...!

Now, hold on. Let’s think about this for a moment.

If this started during the first Killing Game, it’s likely at that point that Tengan hadn’t been corrupted by Despair yet. If he had any reason to keep this from you, it was most likely an amiable one.

He must have only watched the video WHILST he was leading this project in secret. Maybe that change in nature is what led to Subject 5′s escape...Just a theory though.

Munakata likely wasn’t even aware that such a virus even existed, given how all documentation of it was covered up by Tengan.

Why did Koichi never bring this up to me though? We’ve had several chances to talk about it...!

The incident was resolved years ago, and Kizakura didn’t even know if Subject 5 was still alive. He didn’t want to give you MORE work to deal with that may end up being fruitless in the end.

That’s a good point.

But personally speaking, I have my own theories...

Rantaro and I came to the following conclusions...Subject 5 would be a young adult by now, with blonde hair, blue eyes and incredible feats of strength above that of the average person. 

Assuming they ARE still alive, I do have a suspect in mind.

Wait...are you saying...?

Matta Gyalusetsu...Hmph...Ironic he should show his face now of all times then.

Kuripa...You said you’d been fighting Gyalusetsu for years now...Do you have any clue into his backstory or where he came from.

Not a damn thing. And we’ve LOOKED.

Uchui came up with the theory that he may have been genetically enhanced or experimented on, which is why he can perform feats such as outmatching me in a fight.

If he can tangle with someone like you who defeated Mukuro Ikusaba, he’s definitely packing a punch.

I did NOT defeat-! Ugh...Whatever...The point is that that kind of strength and skill doesn’t come from 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups and 100 squats, I can tell you that much.

What sort of experimentation could Tengan and his lab staff possibly be doing on them? I thought he intended to cure them, not turn them into living weapons!?

Hm...Well, I have a theory. Have you ever read the Creepypasta, Clockwork: Your time is Up?

Nooooo?

Good, don’t, it’s shit...!

But halfway through the story, they try and use drugs and experimentation to cure the main character’s “superdepression” or...whatever...and it ends up going wrong. The drugs they give her end up giving her super-strength, and that’s when she goes on a rampage.

How does that even happen!?

I DON’T KNOW, I told you it was stupid!

But still, Gyalusetsu is by no means a normal human being. I wouldn’t put it past that he had a unique genetic code or some shit that may have caused unspecified and unexpected side effects.

So you’re suggesting that it may have been an accident?

...

[Flashback]

When I was much younger, doctors used me as a test subject to see if my condition could be cured. That way, we would never have to worry about those born with CIPA in the future.

But it didn’t work, and it had a nasty side effect. They pumped me full of performance enhancing drugs to see if they could get my nerves to react. What happened instead was the drugs never left my system, and the effects remained, making me stronger and tougher than the average dude.

I see...Kuripa might have a point...We don’t know what those doctors were willing to do to ger rid of that virus. They might have gone as far as selling their souls if it meant stopping any more Despair.

True...The old Foundation was the desperate sort.

To be perfectly honest, even though Shuichi’s theory about Gyalusetsu being Subject 5 seems to hold water...I honestly have my doubts...

Oh? And why is that?

The main aspect of the Enoshima Virus is that those infected started to gain traits of Junko’s personality, such as her lust for Despair and violence.

Gyalusetsu is NOTHING like Enoshima. He’s honestly very reserved, even when he’s fighting, and he doesn’t seem to have much of a bloodlust despite being a supposed assassin.

He kept telling me that “I didn’t have to go through with fighting him” and when he escaped, he said he wanted to “help me too.”

He said that? Wh-What could he have meant?

The guy was probably just talking out his ass for all we know. Messiah complexes aren’t uncommon with Zetsubou.

Leon’s right. It’s probably just some kind of self-righteousness.

In any case, thank you for raising this with us Shuichi. You too, Kaede and Rantaro.

Yes, I’ll make sure to open a small investigation into the matter.

If it’s not too much trouble, ma’am? Could I maybe be in charge of said investigation?

Like I told you...I’d like to be more independent, and this seems like a good place to start.

Sounds good to me.

Thank you.

Alright, that takes care of that for now. Now what?

Well, I think it’s high time.

Oh yeah, didn’t you say the two of you wanted to talk about something?

Yep. Can you do me a favor? Gather as many Foundation heads, leaders and members as you possibly can and get them all to the meeting room.

Wh-Why?

Because it’s plot-dumping time...!

[Zetsubou Base, same time.]

...

Ah, you’re here.

Oh...Yeah...

Thanks for showing up by the way. I appreciate it.

I want to learn the truth just as much as you do. I need to know what it is Shirogane truly plans for the future.

I honestly thought she’d have told you herself by now.

Clearly she doesn’t trust us as much a she pretends.

Understandable. In any case, I managed to get Koyasunaga’s permission...We have half an hour.

Which is stingy, but I’ll take it. Did you bring the things you want to give them?

...Yes...Though I really have doubts about it’s effectiveness.

Remember Nagito, you’re not doing this in the hopes that they’ll forgive you. Honestly, I doubt they ever will, no matter what you do.

Just make it clear that your intentions align with theirs. This is little more than a peace offering.

R-Right...

...Okey-smokey~ Let’s go!

*Uchui, with Nagito behind him, suddenly steps into the cell room. As soon as he does, Kamukura claps his hands.

...!?

...!

...!

...

Hello Gentlemen...

How about we have a little chat...?

[athetos]

My grandma passed away. I knew as soon as my dad texted me because he said good morning with my name. He never uses my name, to the point sometimes I fear he’s forgotten it. I talked to my mom for a while. I realized the reason this feels so distant and unreal is because my grandma has been so distant and unreal from me and my brother for a years now. Later on it was because she was getting sick, but before that it was because she didn’t want anything to do with my moms side of the family after my parents divorced, and it was clear I sided with my mom. Not like I had much choice. I just started college and didn’t live in town anymore, and I knew my dad was abusive because I was in an abusive relationship at the same time and knew the signs. So while I loved my grandparents, they didn’t want to see me.

So I only saw them a couple times a year, especially once I started fighting with my dad more. Usually at Christmas, thanksgiving, and a summer bbq. So an average of 3 visits a year for the past decade. I love them both for helping raise me and helping shape me into the person I am today. My grandma taught me how to swim, how to type on a keyboard, and encouraged my love of reading. I would spend hot days swimming for what felt like hours in the pool then reading warrior cats or redwall on the patio while she knit or read herself. We’d tend to the gardens and they’d give us fresh veggies, pickled eggs, homemade dressing, and their award-winning wine that we were much too young to drink but drank anyway. I think if I was 16 and you told me she passed away, I’d cry endlessly and refuse to believe it.

But I’m 27 now and in a way it feels like she’s been gone for 10 years already. She has been largely absent from my life, even though she echoes so strongly within me. I had cried and grieved many times over the remnants of our relationship when I was in college. I would have frequent nightmares of going to her funeral, or witnessing her die. Because that what it felt like, in a way. That she had died. And maybe once I graduated, but before I moved, she was resurrected for a short time. Like getting second chances to say goodbye to a ghost, and make up for lost time. 3 times a year, I could make amends and we could pretend I wasn’t in their blind spot for my entire college career. The love I felt for her then was strong, but it was not the same love I felt for her before. Was the love she gave me the same? Or was it different as well? Was she proud of me? Did she recognize me? Could she still see the girl with tangled hair and butterfly sweaters within the face of a disillusioned not-girl?

I don’t have to try to honor her. Everything she has done for me has been woven into my dna and etched in my bones. Just by living, I am carrying her memory. It’s in every action and every thought. To separate her love for me would be to unravel my very being. I cannot exist without it. I understand now why people are so concerned about their legacy, of the importance of continuing their family line. It’s not their genes that are important, but the love they give their descendants. Trace my family tree, and you will find the prototype of me, hundreds of years ago. I am a culmination of all that has come before, and for the first time, I truly want to have children, to be able to give them that same love my grandma gave me, so they can give it to their children. I want to be remembered, not by name or by face, but by the fingerprints I leave behind.

Everyone is asking me if I’m coming home. I don’t know. What else can I say? What can I do? Fly home for a funeral, pretend I haven’t laid my grandma to rest years ago, and say a few inadequate words that will crumble as soon as they leave my lips? Meet relatives I haven’t seen in years, even decades, and pretend I remember their names? As though we have anything in common, anything at all, but my grandma’s kindness and grace? Is that enough? I cannot meet the eyes of some of these people. Not all of them have cast me away, but some have, as soon as they heard word I was with a woman. I’m not afraid of them, but are they afraid of me? Could someone who has been raised on my grandma’s love have that much hate in their heart? I can afford a plane ticket, I have bereavement leave. So why not go? Except I can’t. But I can.

I still haven’t cried yet. I don’t know if I can. I’m screaming at myself to feel something, for my body to react. Just the vague emptiness in my chest. Worrying for my father, for the first time in years. I didn’t think I was capable of worrying for him. Maybe i won’t cry until tonight, or tomorrow, or the funeral, or sometime years down the line when it finally hits me and spills out of me, overdue and rank. Grief is a funny thing. My art teacher died when I was in middle school. It was the first time I had lost someone close to me, when I was old enough to comprehend death. My grandma was the one who called me to tell me she died. It didn’t feel real until that monday, when I saw her photo everywhere. I broke. I was taken to the counselors office, where I tore up origami swans and bawled until they made my parents take me home. I didn’t recover until she came to me in a dream. She invited me to a party, and said everyone was there, celebrating her life. She hugged me and told me to be strong, and eat some chocolate cake. So I did. And I never shed another tear over her again. Still, I think about how she was buried with an easel, where we had drawn and written our love for her all over. I wrote the lyrics to shadow of the day by linkin park, and my hand cramped halfway through, but I kept going. I still think of her when I listen to Van Halen, or use complementary colors.

I’m not sure where we go from here, beyond forwards. Will this repair my relationship with my father, or will it shatter it into thousands of pieces? Will I reconnect with my family, or will they forget me as soon as they finish the ceremony? Will I be forgiven? Will they forgive me? Wherever things go from here, I know my grandma is still with me. She looks out from my eyes and grips the pencil with my hand. Even as I type this she is haunting every word. Not all hauntings have to be bad.

Thank you, Grandma, for everything. You taught me how to swim, so this will not make me drown.