#I cried a few times writing it but… writing is therapeutic for me

[cumcov3redangel]

It's actually sickening how you're obviously suffering through these answers and it doesn't take a genius to get and yet people keep coming with deep. I feel so sympathetic towards you, hope you can heal and feel sane once again one day. It's gonna be a long journey but it'll turn out okay, I promise

I have no one to blame but myself for my current suffering. As a child it wasn’t my fault of course the attention seeking and fear of abandonment was inevitable.. figuring out what boys wanted early on as a preteen because the male gaze was the easiest way to be noticed well we could have seen that coming the classic “daddy issues”.. as I got older though I was used or manipulated emotionally/mentally/physically because I was naive or not smart enough or I just didn’t think I could say no was unfortunate and I was not to blame I was a victim. It��s wasn’t my fault and I suffered for years struggling with ways to cope but.. I feel it’s time for me to accountability after so many years of never changing, of being toxic, of always falling victim to myself. After so much time since the trauma has past I think it’s time to finally seek therapy. Time to stop blaming those who hurt me, discover healthy coping skills, find safe was to express myself and communicate better, and learn some self discipline. How many years can you make the same self sabotaging destructive mistakes and blame others for the outcome? I can’t always be stuck in this victimhood. If I never learn from my mistakes, or make better decisions I’m always going to be in this vicious cycle. I appreciate your sympathy. Thank you for understanding me.. but I think I also owe it to myself to stop feeling sorry for myself after all these years. I’m hoping I take that step in the direction of healing.. it’s scary and intimidating but I should at least try. Healing isn’t linear but it’s still a journey I owe myself. Little me and big me deserves to heal.

[sushiwriterhere]

pink light

summary: "He had done as best as he could, had stayed through a pizza dinner huddled on your bed. Your mom had tried to soothe you after he’d left, promising you’d find your person, that it wouldn’t always feel this way, being the butt of the joke. You didn’t really believe her–but how do you describe feeling like you’re always walking into the middle of a conversation, missing out on the inside joke and not really ever belonging?”  rating: teen + up pairing: jake seresin x f!reader (unrequited) word count: ~4k warnings: unrequited love, angst, potentially ooc!, no use of y/n.  notes: this is my first fic in a long while and my first attempt at top gun/writing hangman. also incredibly self indulgent and therapeutic – please feel free to tell me what you think!!! not beta'd <3 after some consideration, I have decided I will not be writing a second part to this fic.

If you had to describe your relationship with Jake Seresin, how you knew him, you’d probably say friends since childhood, fellow military brats, maybe even Thing 1 and Thing 2. You two were inseparable from the moment your parents introduced you. Despite any worries about Jake being a few years older, he took you under his wing. There you stayed–ever his dutiful shadow. He’d invite you to parties, let you sit on the sidelines during sports practices, field snide comments about your relationship. 

Now, here you were however many years later, having followed him to Fightertown after a brief stint of separation during college and him in flight school. You’d followed your parents desires dutifully, getting a degree in something ‘useful’ and maintained a slew of internships, part time jobs, and your studies all at the same time. But all you ever really wanted was a routine, a quieter place in the world. Your classmates went off to graduate school, first-year positions at big consulting companies, and all you wanted to do was be near Jake.

To his credit, he’d taken it completely in stride. He’d helped you apartment hunt and settle in, had talked to Penny about getting you a job and so there you were, reunited again. Except something was different. 

It was a secret to absolutely no one that you loved Jake, deeply. At first your parents had laughed quietly at the puppy love, the way you quietly followed him around, blinking owlishly behind your glasses and just nodding along to whatever he was blabbering on about at the time. Then it was a bit less funny, watching Jake go through high school and all of a sudden be tall, blonde, and handsome. You didn’t really have the words for what you felt, so you just watched as he had girlfriend after girlfriend, each of them treating you with a range of emotions from kindness to outright disdain. 

It had been especially bad once–you’d been asked out as a joke by one of the more popular kids in your grade. You’d shyly accepted before being met by laughter that echoed around the hallways, everyone turning to look (if they weren’t observing already). 

Your mom picked you up early that day. 

“I’m going to beat his ass.” Jake burst through your bedroom door, interrupting your quiet sniffling and causing you to jump with surprise, “Tell me who it is and I’ll fix it.”

You paused your crying to force out, “It’s fine, Jake.”

The scowl on his face was as dark as a thousand nights, “Oh it absolutely is not. I’ll make his life a living hell next year.”

And there he was, saving the day as always. You’d cried harder that night after he left, apologizing but he “had a date” that he couldn’t miss, not even for you. He had done as best as he could, had stayed through a pizza dinner huddled on your bed. Your mom had tried to soothe you after he’d left, promising you’d find your person, that it wouldn’t always feel this way, being the butt of the joke. You didn’t really believe her–but how do you describe feeling like you’re always walking into the middle of a conversation, missing out on the inside joke and not really ever belonging?

So when you and Jake had drifted slightly during his time in flight school and your eventual transition to college, there again was that feeling. Like you were watching your own life on an old TV, trying to tune the frequency and always coming back in in the middle of the plot, not sure where you were supposed to be and with whom. The calls became infrequent, more apologies than actual conversation. Then the first deployment happened, and the letters were brief, impersonal. 

Somehow, even now, in the same town, in an apartment not far from base, from where he lived, you felt like there was a part of the story you were missing. You tried not to let it gnaw at you but seeing him come to the Hard Deck with his buddies, sitting there on the sidelines for beach football, seeing how close he had gotten with the other fighter pilots in your absence–now that stung. 

But you had to focus on the everyday, the constants.

“That better not be a phone on my bar!” Penny’s voice rang out over the din of the shouting in the bar, and you felt yourself laugh as you watched Mav’s face turn bright red. 

“I’d be happy to re-open that tab of yours, Maverick.” You grinned at him, and he shook his head.

“I knew I should’ve stopped Hangman from talking Penny into hiring you, you’re more on her side than mine.” You smiled at the man, glad for his presence–besides you knew he didn’t mean it. 

Your parents were far away, and though they loved you, they were always just a bit detached. Military parents just tended to be like that in your experience. So having Mav and Penny around really made Fightertown feel like home. And certainly, having Jake around didn’t hurt at all (despite the distance). 

And like speaking the name of the devil, over the chaos you heard your name–Jake.

“How’s my favorite bartender doing?” You’d never get over that smile of his, the one he reserved for you (at least you hoped). It was all teeth, crinkles by his eyes, and joy. 

You shook your head, “No matter how much you flatter me, I’m not giving you free beer.”

“You wound me,” the smile never faltered, “But I’m actually not here for a free drink. I’m here for all that worldly wisdom that you gain by being a bartender. Psych’s of the drinking world, something like that.”

Rolling your eyes, you poured a gin and tonic without sparing him a glance, “A major in psychology does not count as me being a psychologist, Jake.”

“Ah, see, but you’re also a woman, so that means you’re qualified to help me out.” This time, he wasn’t looking at you when you turned your attention to him. 

Look, you weren’t dumb. You’d understood since his early high school years that Jake had become a very handsome, very charming man. He’d always been cute, and you’d always thought he had a certain air about him, but somehow shooting up to a solid six-foot and spending all his time in the gym had really done it for every other woman ever. And the string of girlfriends, one night stands in between, never stopped. So you just resigned yourself to nodding along. 

Absolutely nothing about that part of Jake had changed in flight school or beyond, apparently. And he seemed determined to make his way through the female population of Fightertown. For what it was worth, at least he never let them think anything of him but exactly what he was offering–a good time, and nothing else. That’s what he wanted and what they gave him. So him asking for advice from you because you were a woman? That made something clench tight in your chest and grit your teeth just a bit. 

“So now I’m a dating guru?” A rum and coke with a smile to the patron who didn’t even glance at Jake, “Here’s your card, sir, enjoy your evening.”

When you finally made eye contact with him, he just had one eyebrow raised in that incredibly irritating way of his, “Uh, no. But you have feelings and you like poetry and shit, so I need your help.”

If there was one thing that Jake’s string of one night stands was good for, it was letting you maintain your silly daydream of him wisening up one day and seeing you the way you saw him. This, however, felt like a punch in the stomach, like someone had come in the middle of the night and stolen all the spouts off every liquor bottle in the Hard Deck. You wouldn’t necessarily be flying blind during an evening of pouring drinks, but there would be a lot of spillage and a really high chance of tears. 

“I’m not helping you manipulate some poor girl, Jacob.” The full name card; his eyebrow lowered a smidge, “Besides, why don’t you ask Phoenix? She’s a woman.”

He groaned and slumped over on the bar. Gross. You hadn’t had a chance to wipe it since the start of the evening rush, and that had been a very, very, long time ago. You ignored his mini moping session, hoping he’d give up asking you about poetry (what the hell?) and feelings. This was the last thing you wanted to deal with right now. 

Instead, he just stood straight up after a few moments of grumbling, smile intact as ever, “Phoenix doesn’t count, I’m pretty sure her dick is bigger than mine. But you’ll help me right? C’mon, where’s the Bug I know? You used to do anything I’d ask you to.”

A low blow, your childhood nickname. It still stung sometimes that he called you that–you hadn’t been ‘bug-eyed’ since freshman year of high school since you refused to put your middle school glasses back on and your parents had relented and let you get contacts. 

You huffed, “Leave me alone, Jake, I have to work.” You bent over to start breaking up the blocks of ice in the cooler by your feet, if only to hide the way your face was bright red. 

He slapped the bar counter, signaling his retreat, at least for now. This was not going to end well. 

-

Not going to end well? That was the understatement of the year. Whichever girl Jake had his eyes on now was clearly different from the others. He hung around after your shift to annoy you again, and this time he would not take no for an answer. Following you around as you closed, he lifted kegs and moved twenty pound bags of ice, all the while managing to maintain a monologue all about this girl. At some point you almost considered breaking a beer bottle over his head if only to get him to stop talking for ten seconds. 

“Listen, just this once, okay? I just really want your help. Tell me what to do.” How was his voice carrying from where he was under the pool table, scraping gum off the underside. “God, this is fucking disgusting–Penny makes you do this every night? It looks like this hasn’t been cleaned since she bought it.”

Penny actually pretended she couldn’t see the nasty shit stuck under the pool tables, but Jake was annoying you enough that it didn’t matter. Anything to get him to stop asking you for advice about this girl. 

“Please shut the fuck up or go home.” The sound of you throwing a wet rag into the bucket by your feet echoed throughout the empty bar. 

You’d had enough. At this point it was almost four in the morning and all you wanted was to lay down for the next forty-eight hours and not think about anyone or anything. 

His head popped out from underneath the table with a look of surprise. You usually didn’t tell him off, at least seemingly content with letting him prattle on about whatever he felt. There was a good flow, sometimes he’d listen to you complain and other times he’d rest his cheek on the bartop and talk about a particularly bad flight drill. This was clearly different.

You hoped you didn’t look as exasperated as you felt, but you saw the sag in his shoulders at your expression, “Right. Sorry.”

You hated it when he did that–you knew it wasn’t on purpose but it took all the air out of the room when he was upset. But this time you were upset enough that you ignored the tug in your stomach at the heavy silence in the room. 

“Look, I’m finished closing here, and I just really want to go home.” 

The two of you maintained an uneasy silence as you shut off the lights and locked the doors behind you. You did your best not to meet his eyes, the overhead lights of the parking lot casting funny shadows on his face that made him look much younger than he actually was. Sometimes you thought you couldn’t breathe when he looked like that–like when you’d first met, attention always focused on you as you followed him around. 

“I upset you. I’m sorry.” His lips were pursed in a flat line, but he was looking at you like he was trying to understand something. 

Suddenly, the gravel beneath your feet was the most interesting thing in the world. That was, until he pulled you into his arms and squeezed you tight. There he was, enveloping you, burying you in the smell of something so distinctly Jake it made you dizzy with want and hope. 

“It’s okay. Drive me home?” 

You felt him nod against your head, and you silently let him go. His arms didn’t drop from your shoulders until a few moments later. He always did that and somehow it was the worst and best thing in your life. 

-

It wasn’t until your shift the next day that what had transpired between you two hit you fully watching him act sheepish and lay it on thick for who he was evidently asking you about. She was beautiful–tan skin, a wide smile, and bright eyes. Her laugh sounded like music and she was dressed just right, like she was putting in effort but still casual enough for a bar like the Hard Deck. 

You wanted to be sick. Scream, cry, whatever it took. Again, you weren’t entirely naive, but Jake had never made it so obvious to you. There had always been an ocean, an eight hour flight–something, anything, separating your realities. He’d always maintained that you were someone special to him but this felt like your world was shattering in front of your eyes. 

It was embarrassing to admit, but at least the high school girlfriends and the one night stands were easy enough to watch pass by. You two moved around too much for any high school sweetheart nonsense, and by the way Jake made flight school sound, he was clearly more focused on being top of his class than anything else. 

At the very least, the universe seemed to pity you if only for the moment. The Hard Deck was incredibly busy on a Friday night, and it only took a few patrons to block your line of sight to your worst nightmare. You worked on autopilot, letting muscle memory and the part of your brain that excelled at customer service take over. In your head, though, you were about to lose it.

All you could see was him leaning close to her, clearly whispering something hilarious into her ear, and her throwing her head back in laughter. The way his hand pressed into her waist made you sick.

It was only after closing, after everyone had been sent home, that you let yourself exhale. Sinking to the ground behind the bar, you buried your face in your hands, reeking of alcohol and all. It took everything in your not to completely break down–you still felt a few stray tears slip out. God, you were so stupid. So young, so naive. 

In that moment it didn’t feel like you had ever moved past that wide eyed six year old meeting Jake for the first time. You’d had boyfriends, kissed a few strangers, but they’d all faded into a sort of background noise whenever compared to Jake. But in that moment, it felt like you were finally hearing the beginning, middle, and end of the conversation.

Beginning: You were Jake’s little shadow, always two steps behind, always tripping over yourself to keep up. 

Middle: At some point, Jake grew up, and you didn’t. 

End: Jake was not in love with you. 

-

Penny took one look at your face when you walked in for your Saturday shift and immediately tried to send you home, “Even if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m not letting you work when you look about three seconds from bawling.”

It stung but she was right. You’d gone home after Friday’s shift and sobbed yourself to sleep. Jake had tried to call in the middle of the day Saturday and you sent him to voicemail. That of course prompted several more calls, all to voicemail, and at least six text messages, all of which you left unanswered. You half expected him to show up at your place and breakdown the door, but he didn’t show. Whether that was worse or better, you hadn’t decided yet.

“Penny, I’m–Look, I’m fine. I’d actually really prefer to work, I need the distraction.” You did your best at a smile, truly hoping she would buy it. 

She narrowed her eyes at you, and gave you a once-over. By the grace of something bigger than the universe, she let you pass her into the back so you could clock in. 

You knew Jake would be here, but you just kept your head down, hoping that would somehow protect you. It was actually Phoenix who found you first, tucked in the back taking a breather from running cups and bottles of liquor so you wouldn’t have to talk to customers. 

She called your name softly and offered a small smile, “Hey, there you are.”

Phoenix and you had always gotten along. She was always sweet to you, always ribbing on the guys on your behalf, and defending you from any creep who decided to try and make a move. But she was also always dangerously observant, and you could tell that this time would be no different.

So despite everything going on around you two, she crouched down beside you, and began pulling everything out of you the way she always did, “I can tell something’s wrong. And I know it’s because of Hangman.”

That was all it took–slapping a hand over your mouth, you felt the sob rise in your throat. Clearly alarmed, she grabbed your other hand and tugged you out back, doing her best to avoid the eyeline of the other fighter pilots. Once out in the dark you sank into the sand and she rubbed your back soothingly as you let your emotions pour out. 

You left no stone unturned, spilling every part of your heart out to her. How you had been in love with Jake probably since the beginning, how you’d waited on the sidelines for your moment, how you’d gone to college on the other side of the country hoping it would help, how the distance felt like an old battle wound. And through it all, she sat and listened thoughtfully. 

“I think you should talk to him. Hangman-” She stopped herself, “Jake shouldn’t be making you feel like this, honey, no one should. But he won’t know unless you tell him.”

Despite it all, you were a romantic. When you had your first middle school crush (other than Jake) you’d marched right up to him and told him straight to his face. You went on your first date because you asked. It never made any sense when looking at every other part of you, but love was just something you couldn’t keep to yourself. Other than Jake. 

“You should talk to him.”

“Phoenix?” There he was, calling your name, “Guys? What’s going on?”

He thundered down the back stairs of the Hard Deck, shaking sand everywhere, his silhouette blocking out the light from the bar. When he spotted you kneeling in the sand with Phoenix at your side, his shoulders sagged. 

“Are you hurt? What happened?” He stopped short by Phoenix and they seemed to have some sort of wordless conversation because she stood and he plopped himself down in her stead.

You wouldn’t look at him. The world felt too big and too small at the same time, like the universe was crashing down on your head and the only thing you could manage to do was let it happen. Phoenix, that traitor, pressed her lips to your head, and walked back into the bar. 

There it was, that part of you that just couldn’t hold back its feelings rearing its ugly head. Except this time it wouldn’t be a schoolyard rejection, it wouldn’t be an awkward pizza date, it would be the end of something bigger than yourself. For a moment, you let yourself bask in what you knew, deep down, was the end of what you had been, and an uncomfortable start to where you would go. 

“Well, I clearly did something.” Jake wasn’t looking at you either–he was looking at the ocean and fiddling with a drink straw. 

“You, uh, well,” You cleared your throat, “It’s not really your fault.”

“Bug, you have like a thousand missed calls from me and probably a thousand more missed texts.” 

The tears were coming again–guilt, fear, sadness, all pouring out of you. You imagined him pacing around his apartment, wearing a hole in the carpet, trying to reach you. You imagined him calling Phoenix and asking for advice. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Isn’t that my line?” He turned to look at you, clearly hoping cracking a joke would ease the tension–no such luck. “Do you want me to go?”

“No.” He stilled beside you. 

“Bug, I don’t–I can’t fix what I did if you won’t tell me.” He was looking back at the ocean, the drink straw now some sort of complicated sailor’s knot.

Swallowing roughly, you figured it was now or never, truly. You closed your eyes, pretending that this moment would be different, that what you were about to say would bring an outcome different than it really would. Maybe in another universe there would be a Jake who saw you as someone other than a younger sibling, his little shadow. 

“I love you, Jake. And there’s nothing that can fix that aside from time.”

He was quiet. There it was. 

“I’m sorry,” He dropped the nickname, using your real name, “I didn’t realize. I must’ve really hurt you with all that poetry shit.”

You felt hollow, numb from every fingertip to your core, “Right.”

“You’re brave, Bug, braver than I’ll ever be. But, I can’t–I’m not that person for you, I’m sorry.” His voice sounded thick with emotion. “I can give you space, whatever you need. I’m sorry.”

For a moment, you just sat next to him, looking out at the ocean. The moon was clear in the sky, Fightertown always maintaining a balmy, clear sky. Here you were, having followed your first, and one true, love across the country. None of it felt real. 

“Thank you, Jake. It’ll take time, but I’ll be fine.” You looked at him for the first time, truly, since things had started unraveling. 

He looked so human, so tired, under the moonlight. It pained you, but for a moment you felt that flicker in your chest, the one you felt whenever he distanced himself, the one that reminded you how human he was. He hadn’t been that little boy for a long, long time. Your days of swingsets and bike rides and childhood inside jokes were past. 

There was some part of you that knew you would be able to breathe again, if not now then in a week, a month, a year. He’d get deployed again, you’d settle back into your routine at the Hard Deck. You’d find your person, like he clearly had. 

And it was time for you to accept that.

[where-are-the-spooky-gays-2]

I talk about Virgil a lot so here are some random (some AU specific, some not, NOT ALL IN THE SAME AU) headcanons I have for Remus with mediocre elaboration:

— low empathy autistic. Has to be taught some empathy. I don't mean he's a danger, I just mean it doesn't initially occur to him that something might hurt someone emotionally. Also this usually comes with more of an explanation but I ✨don't remember the entire explanation✨

— he/they/it/various neos. I just think they'd vibe with it. I don't think he'd totally rock with she/her but y'all know headcanons are individual and I very much love seeing she/her and transfem Remus too <33

— tics. Sometimes they're worse than other times. Usually in a human au. Not with any specific disorder in mind when thought of

— this one is less mine and more my one friend's but Imma include it anyway: they wrote about him in one AU having a schizophrenia disorder. I don't remember the specifics but some of it was Remus seeing and hearing people/things that aren't there, which caused him and a lot of other people distress, and it furthered their "this is why people look at him odd but really he's not odd" agenda. He thought he was broken. Nope turns out his brain's just a bit different. Cue "ohhhhhh"

— y'know 80s/90s punk aesthetic? Yeah. Also thrifts like a bitch like they're out there all the time.

— walking calculator and can do a truly abhorrent level of math in his head. But cannot for the life of them do English. Like what the fuck is a semi colon. Ain't that the thing in your body?

— marine biologist or a mortician for his job I CANNOT decide.

— has horror movies as comfort movies <3 like "okay I'm sleeping now hmmm I'll put on the original Halloween" and then dozes off to it

— has facial hair other than the mustache. Removes the facial hair other than the mustache

— truly the most monstrous mullet you have ever seen except it's somehow hot. Like against all odds it's hot on it.

— writes down its worst intrusive thoughts in a notebook and when the notebook is full, burns it. That way it's an almost symbolic way of "FUCK these ideas"

— cusses just so goddamn much

— in some few AUs (I have to specify); smoker. Started as a teenage rebellion habit and now it's kicking their ass.

— tooth gap. I fucking love tooth gap.

— the grey streak isn't dye actually it's a birth mark. Roman has a similar one but he dyes it (neither brother is bothered by this)

— has fake blood splattered on several pairs of shoes just because it can and they think it looks cool

— reaaaaaally tries to pretend they don't care about Roman (highschool specific au) but also shows up for all of his theater shows and is always giving a standing ovation every time and has cried at a few performances (but definitely not no because they're too cool 😎.. *sobs*)

I feel like this is too many but ya get my vibes for him? :D I hope. I love them. They're so cool. It's just. AAAA

— 👑

Dude I fucking L O V E all of these S O fucking much oml!!! These really match Ree's vibes and them being a walking calculator is S O fucking underrated (Also “What the fuck is a semi colon ain't that the thing in your body?” is so R E A L XD) I really dig the notebook burning thing I think it would really help get it's thoughts out and he can find it therapeutic because F I R E <3 Also the highschool one has me cackling just

Remus: I could give less of a shit about Ro

Remus: *goes to all of his shows*

Remus: *sobbing and clapping* That's my fuckin' twin y'all!

True Punk behavior XD

[herofics]

could i ask for gojo or basically anyone from mha with a reader who's suddenly dealing with memories of cocsa? thanks

A/N: I picked Gojo, since I just felt like I wanted to write about him this time around. I know you just sent this, and I have a few older requests that I’m working on, but I wanted to write this right away for some reason. I don’t know any other meanings for COCSA other than child-on-child sexual abuse, so I’m assuming that’s what you meant. This request is a bit broad, but I just did some angst with comfort. I haven’t written stuff like this in a while, but there are some similar scenarios in my masterlist, which you can find in the pinned post. I feel like I’ve mostly dealt with my own COCSA trauma, but I do still find these kinds of things therapeutic to write. Not gonna lie though, this sort of triggered me and I cried a lot while writing this, but I’m all good now and it was therapeutic I guess.

Word count: almost 2k

Warnings: (Graphic?) mentions of COCSA/rape, mentions of blood, self hate and reader blames themself for what happened

Today was not a good day. You were almost glad Gojo wasn’t going to be home for at least a day, he didn’t need to deal with this too. He had enough on his shoulders already, he didn’t need to try to handle your shitty mood and flashbacks too.

It wasn’t like this everyday. The memories just resurfaced sometimes and it was like they knocked the wind out of you. It was like a punch in the stomach and it made you want to puke. Sometimes you could still feel hands on you and this was certainly one of those days. You scratched your arms and thighs but the feeling wouldn’t go away. It never did, but you still always hoped that maybe this time would be different.

You decided to take that shower you’d been avoiding the whole day, hoping that maybe the warm water would wash away some of the guilt and self hatred.

You were almost done taking off your clothes, when you happened to glance in the big mirror that covered the inside of your wardrobe door. You saw it again. It was like someone had turned back time and you were staring at your child self in the mirror. A little kid, crying, disheveled in just a t-shirt and bloody underwear, with bruises all around their body, and blood running down their inner thighs. You didn’t even notice you were crying too, before your legs gave out and you just sat on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Why me?” you whispered between your sobs.

Your whole life you’d been told it wasn’t your fault, but no one had yet managed to convince you that that was true. You knew it had been his fault too, that boy who did this to you all those years ago. You’d also convinced yourself that you were to blame. You were the one who went with him. You were the one who didn’t scream and shout, you were the one who didn’t try to run away until it was too late, and by then, he already had you in his grasp.

“Why did you follow him? Why didn’t you fight back?” you’d heard those questions countless times. It was horrifying how much parents tried to justify their kids’ actions. “Surely you did something to make him do this to you” was one of the phrases you would probably never forget.

You felt like you were drowning in self hatred and guilt. How could you have been so fucking stupid? “You were just a child” some reasonable part of your brain whispered, but that was swiftly drowned out by everything else. You were still just sitting on the floor, but now your crying was quiet. You were rocking yourself back and forth, as if in a trance. The words “It’s your fault” kept running circles in your brain.

Gojo knew he wasn’t supposed to be home yet. He knew you weren’t expecting him for at least another day, but he was just happy to get back to you. He pretty much skipped up the stairs to the front door, he missed you.

He opened the front door, the house was quiet, suspiciously so. The lights were on, so clearly you were home, but you wouldn’t answer when he called your name. Nothing was out of place, but something was wrong, he could feel it. He just didn’t know what it was. He couldn’t feel any hostility or strange cursed energy around, but something was undeniably wrong.

When he found you on the bedroom floor, sitting in front of the wardrobe, he could see your reflection in the mirror. You had this vacant look in your eyes, you hadn’t even noticed him come into the room.

Gojo knelt down next to you and put his hand on your shoulder. It brought you out of your trance immediately, but not in the way he expected.

“Please don’t-don’t touch me” you pleaded as you suddenly started backing away from him.

You hadn’t noticed Gojo come into the room, but the moment he touched you, you came back to reality. His touch felt disgusting, you felt like his hand would burn a hole through your t-shirt. God why was this happening? Why were you reacting like this to the person you loved so much?

“Okay, okay, I won’t” he assured. “What’s wrong doll?” he asked as he stuffed his blindfold into his pocket.

You had backed away from him until your back hit the end of the bed, so there was about a meter of distance between you. Gojo felt like there was a ravine between you, like he couldn’t reach you on the other side. All his powers and techniques wouldn’t help here. He hated feeling this powerless.

“Talk to me, please?” he almost sounded like he was begging.

You shook your head with this panicked look in your eyes. Gojo didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to comfort you if you wouldn’t let him hold you. It was like someone was tearing his heart into pieces. All he could do was sit there, and wait.

You wanted to tell him what was going on, you wanted to explain, but you didn’t know where to start. Would he think it was your fault? Would he blame you too? Before you could stop yourself, the words escaped your lips.

“I was raped”

Gojo just sat there, he felt like couldn’t process what you’d just told him. Raped? No, surely he heard wrong.

“What?” he had to ask, he had to make sure he’d really heard wrong, he really hoped he heard wrong.

“It-I was a kid and I was-I was raped…” you stammered.

He hadn’t heard wrong. Gojo had to really restrain himself to stop from embracing you. He wasn’t sure how else to comfort you. That was his love language, touch, but you really didn’t look like you could handle any of that right now.

You took a few deep, wavering breaths. You had stopped crying, at least mostly, but the self hatred and guilt were still very much there.

“I’ve been having some-some flashbacks and memories-and memories resurfacing today, and as you can-as you can see, it’s not a good day for me-me” you tried explaining.

“Do you need me to do something? I’ll do anything” Gojo stated very seriously.

“Can you just-Can you just sit there until this passes?” you asked apologetically. “I don’t- I don’t want to be touched right now, even the thought makes me want to vomit”

You didn’t want to make Gojo feel like this was about him, it wasn’t him touching you that made you feel nauseous, anyone would have gotten the same reaction.

“And it’s not about you, I just don’t want anyone to touch me right now” you added.

Gojo sighed in relief, for a moment he was scared he had done something wrong.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked carefully.

You were starting to feel more stable, not good exactly, but better than before. Gojo’s presence helped, he made you feel safe and like no one could hurt you again. It was also a bittersweet feeling, you just wished someone like him had been around back then. Someone to stop anything bad from ever happening to you.

“I-I don’t really know how to talk about it. People don’t want to hear about stuff like that, not really, even if they want to help” you shrugged.

“I want to help, I really do”

“I don’t think you need to hear all the nauseating details of it. I know you want to help, but I’ve only got myself to blame really. I was so damn stupid” you shook your head with a disappointed sigh.

Gojo had to stop himself from reaching his hand towards yours, instead he just balled his hand into a fist. You didn’t want to be touched, he needed to respect that. Hearing you say that made him so incredibly frustrated. How could you blame yourself for something so horrific someone else had done to you?

“You weren’t stupid, you were a child and that should’ve never happened” Gojo said slowly.

“That’s no excuse though, I should’ve known better. I should’ve know the things he did were wrong, before it was too late”

“I don’t know how old you were when this happened, but would you expect a kid that age to know what you were “supposed to know”?” Gojo asked.

“No, but-” you started but he cut you off.

“So why would you expect it from yourself at that age? You shouldn’t need to know better as a kid, other people should know not to do shitty things” Gojo tried to reason with you.

That shut you up quite effectively. You would never expect it from anyone else, so why would you expect something like that from yourself. You didn’t really have a counter argument, and it had undeniably shaken your attitude of self blame and hatred just a little.

“Hah, you can’t argue with that, can you” Gojo smirked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“You’re so proud of yourself for coming up with that” you rolled your eyes, but your lips curved into a slight smile.

“If it made at least a dent in all that self hatred you’re carrying around, then yes” Gojo nodded.

“It’s not like I actively hate myself, it’s just days like these… mostly” your voice faded.

“Then I want to make sure you’ll never have a day like this again” Gojo said with a very serious tone. He looked so determined.

“That’s sweet Satoru, but I can’t promise that, and neither can you” you smiled sadly.

“Well we can at least aim for less days like this, right?” he asked.

“I think that’s a good start yeah” you nodded.

You were still sitting on the floor against the end of the bed, but you seemed much more relaxed and calm than when he came into the room. Gojo was happy you’d shared more of yourself with him, but he obviously wasn’t happy about what you’d told him. If Gojo were to ever get his hands on the guy who’d hurt you, he wasn’t sure what he might end up doing.

“I think you need some food and a lot of rest. I can take care of the first one and cook you something, but after that, you're going to bed” Gojo announced.

“I’m not even gonna argue with you about that, because you’re right”

“I’m always right” he smirked.

“Oh yeah, definitely” you rolled your eyes with a playful chuckle.

“Let’s go, I’ll cook for you” Gojo said as he stood up, and offered his hand to you to help you up.

You looked at his hand for a moment, before looking up at him. It made you feel guilty that you didn’t want to touch him right now. You loved him so much, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to take his hand right now.

“Sorry I-I can’t, not yet” you apologized and got up on your own.

Gojo realized what you meant and pulled his hand back. He couldn’t help but feel a bit bad, he didn’t want to seem like he was pressuring you, even if he desperately wanted to hold you.

“No worries, you don’t need to apologize for that” he shook his head.

“I love you, Satoru” you smiled with some residual sadness still in your eyes.

“I love you too, (Name)” he smiled softly. “Now then, what would you like to eat?”

[krirebr]

So, I've been going back and forth about sharing this here but it's really been dominating my thoughts for the last two days, and while I've talked about it a lot with friends, I'm hoping that writing everything down will help me process things. And maybe other people, especially aspec people might be able to relate.

I mentioned on Wednesday that I'd had a really terrible evening that had really shaken and upset me. Below the cut, I want to share what happened.

TWs for references to depression, aphobia, exclusionism, and bad therapy (there's probably a better word for it but I'm not sure what it would be.)

So some of you know that I started this year with a pretty intense depressive episode. It was bad enough that I had to take a leave of absence from work and pretty much spent that whole time crying in bed. It's taken a lot of work over the last few months to get myself back to a more stable place. A big part of that work has been regularly going to therapy.

I went to therapy on and off as a kid and in college, but not at all since then. All of my previous therapeutic experience was long before I came out as aroace. There's a long, ongoing history of aspec identities being medicalized and pathologized and that's something I was very aware of while looking for a therapist this time around. But I was also really desperate for help. So I chose as wisely as I could and crossed my fingers.

I chose a queer therapist who specialized in LGBTQ issues. I told them I was aroace in my first session and while they didn't seem very familiar at all, they also didn't make me overly explain myself or want to focus on that rather than the very real and urgent issues I had come to them for, which is what I'd been most worried about.

As I continued to meet with them weekly, they would sometimes ask questions about it, and while it was pretty clear they didn't really get it, they were respectful about it and it wasn't interfering with the help I actually needed.

That brings me to my appointment this Wednesday. I didn't have anything really pressing to discuss so they asked about my plans for the week and I mentioned that I was getting my hair cut and I was excited because I've been feeling lately like my hair is really hetero (I use that word instead of straight because my hair is so, so curly 😂) and I was looking forward to having queer hair again. They stopped. "Wait," they said, "I'm confused. Why did you use that word to describe yourself?" It had never occurred to them that aspec identities would be considered part of the queer community. They, in fact, had an incredibly narrow definition of the word queer - gay, just gay. And they didn't consider asexuality or aromanticism to be orientations at all.

My memories of the following conversation are pretty jumbled, but some highlights included such chestnuts as "What if you meet the right person one day?", asserting that the A in LGBTQIA+ stands for ally, there has to be a sexual component to romantic relationships, and "everyone has to have attraction, humans are sexual beings." They also said that we should dig into my childhood going forward because they were sure there was something there that caused this. I had a pretty traumatic middle school experience (bullying and some psychosomatic stuff that stemmed from that) and they were pretty eager to blame all that for this.

I became increasingly defensive and combative as this conversation went on (which if you know me, isn't like me at all). It ended with us both feeling very bad and uncomfortable.

I think they kind of came around a little bit by the end. They seemed open to educating themselves and even sent me a link to an article they'd found after our session. And that's great, I guess? But the whole thing made me want to crawl out of my skin. I cried a lot when I got home.

I'm not exactly sure what to do from here. My initial plan was to go next week, talk through what happened, offer some context for why I had gotten so defensive, and discuss together whether this was going to be a good long-term fit. But that's feeling less and less likely the more I think about it (I haven't been able to stop thinking about it). This is just such a big part of who I am. And it's a part of myself that I like and am proud of! And I just can't imagine a situation where I would ever feel safe talking about this aspect of my life with them. And I don't really want therapy where I'm constantly having to censor myself. So do I even go to my next appointment? I really don't know.

I know there's a lot of hopelessness in the aspec community around getting mental health care and I really don't want to add to that. I don't want to believe that we can't get help for our actual issues without mental health professionals just wanting to fix things that don't actually need to be fixed. And I hope that's not the moral or ultimate outcome of this story. I've talked to my very lovely network of queer friends and several of them have already said that they'll reach out to their contacts to find some recommendations for me. I deserve to get the help that I need in a space that is actually safe. And my need isn't as urgent as I was. I can take my time now to find someone I'm fully comfortable with.

I'm not sure exactly why I shared this. I don't always get so personal on here. And some of you have already heard it (thank you for being such good friends, seriously). But it's just been festering inside of me for the past two days and I really needed to share it. Thank you for listening.

[spellcasterlight]

what do you do when you feel really sad?

Hi there Loveable Lion Anon! 🦁

First of all, I get the feeling you maybe sent this ask because you're feeling sad yourself? If so, I'm so sorry to hear that 😔

For your question, what do I do when I'm sad? Gonna put this under the cut so people can scroll by!

Warnings: Crying. Brief Mentions of Dying.

Firstly, Anon, this is just what I do and probably won't work for others. Sadness is hard to deal with and so personal. One person's coping methods are not a script for someone else. I can only reply with what I do!

Now usually I will be the first to admit I'm quite a cheery person so when I am sad it usually tends to hit me like a train.

I deffo have my cry. I've never been a yeller or a social media ranter or anything like that, but I do cry. I don't know if it's the air quotes best thing to do, and I would never tell anyone to do this, but I do. I have a sit down somewhere private (usually my bedroom) and just have a little therapeutic cry to compact and release the overwhelming feelings that come with something seriously bad happening.

But after that, when I'm on the comedown of releasing all that sad energy, I always think, "Is this a heart-stopping moment?" and the answer is always no.

I won't go into details. They aren't pleasant, and no one wants to read them. Still, basically, just over ten years ago, I had a "this is it, this is how I die" moment and not in a sarcastic going to die of embarrassment or someone exaggerating a hangover, but what I thought was the real deal.

So, whenever my logical thinking starts to kick back in after that first burst of crying, I travel back to that point, to my very lowest, to the point where I thought my mother was going to come in and find me dead, propped up in bed by pillows like a lifeless doll because my body had simply given up, nothing but a shell and, part of me knows it's a horrible thing to say, but, it puts whatever made me sad into perspective.

Even when my tears are still flowing, I can accept the realization that I'm okay, I'm still alive, and I will still be alive after it. I can handle whatever felt so overwhelming ten minutes ago.

(That might all sound a bit dramatic to someone just reading it, but yeah, that's what happens.)

The world isn't ending, so what do I do now?

I always want to do something about it. For example, a few months ago, I panicked that I was wasting my life, that I was achieving nothing, and that there was so much I wanted to do, but I was a complete failure because I wasn't doing any of it.

I cried, had my moment of clarity then googled around for some ideas on how to tackle. I now make a monthly calendar of all the stuff I want to dabble in (writing, digital drawing, hand drawing, reading, more exercise, my course etc) and I have it so every evening I will do one of those things. Sure, I won't be the next Picasso or Einstein or anything, but I'm doing something. Being both productive and getting a little joy in creating at the same time.

I also try to put a little goodness back into the world even if I'm really not feeling very happy at that moment.

I'll send a message into the girlie chat telling them how wonderful they all are. I'll tell my friends who are parents how adorable their children are. I'll leave a big tip the next time I go out to eat or if I see a cool musician playing on the street. I'll send some Tumblr asks just telling people they're awesome. I'll speed up my walking so I can hold a door open for someone struggling with a pram or a walker. Buy my parents some flowers or my boyfriend some ice cream. That kind of thing.

Because the only thing that would make me feel worse is if my crappy mood brought down someone else. Seeing other people happy helps make me feel better as well, you know?

It's also good to plan something, even a little something, to look forward to. A holiday, a meetup with friends, a day at the beach, an afternoon with nothing to do but sit in a coffee shop, even a lie-in—whatever makes you make a note in your calendar and think, "Can't wait!"

I honestly don't know if this is helpful or not 😂 Maybe some others would like to be brave and share what they do as well?

If I'm right, and you did send this because you're feeling sad, I hope things turn around, and you feel better soon!

Sending all the good vibes your way! ✨

[mermaidsirennikita]

Ok, so maybe this question is too broad. But what are your hands down favorite sex scenes in contemporaries? Just the scenes you return to again and again?

Sex scene questions are NEVER too broad. The depiction of sex in media is one of my favorite things to talk about, for srs or for "YOU GOTTA SEE/READ THIS" purposes.

Soooo lol I left a few Sierra Simone books off the "angstiest contemporaries" list because while they are not paranormal or whatever, sometimes her New Camelot-verse books feel too... intense? But whatever they're contemporary and these books have some of my favorite sex scenes ever so YA GETTING THEM.

(Among, as it turns out, many other scenes from many other books.)

New Camelot:

American Queen--Embry deflowering Greer which has a) surprise virgin b) possessive dark Embry content, which is some of my FAVORITE content in that series; the whole "talking to my groom on the phone while riding the best man's face and listening to him jack off and we're actually all kinda sad about it" scene--Ash giving Embry to Greer as a wedding present is SOOOO FUCKED but SOOOOO GOOD; the wedding night scene with the first threesome hell fucking yeah

American Prince--Ash and Embry's first time in the flashback with all the blood and the "you look beautiful in the moonlight"-ing; Embry and Greer's hardcore CNC scene where it begins as like, therapeutic playacting and evolves into it being THEM and one of the central conflicts of the series (Embry and Greer love Ash but are both so devoted to Ash that they also, especially Embry, resent his presence because they need their own space together) and then at the end he sees her in the full light and like gasps in horror because she's covered in bite marks and bruises and she's like :D about it because Greer is a freak; the "blindfold you with a Mt. Rushmore tie and blow you to express my eterrrrnal gratitude scene; the "let's make Greer feel better" kinda fucked up green apple scent threesome; the "Ash is very sads because his first wife died so he shows up in the rain and fucks the shit out of Embry to cope" flashback; Greer thinking that Embry Cheated On The Polycule and being like "WELCOME HOME CHEATER" and asking him if Abilene's pussy is as sweet as hers before he's like "THERE'S NOBODY SWEETER" and drops to his knees to eat her out while she's standing.

He's my faaavorite.

American King: OBVIOUSLY, the "it's a very sad occasion and The Polycule Measure Is Being Threatened So We're Gonna Have A Threesome For Three Chapters" scene, AMAZING, shoutout for Embry being balls deep in Greer and before Ash can put it in being all "I THINK WE SHOULD DISCUSS OUR RELATIONSHIP AND ITS BOUNDARIES" and Ash being like "are you fucking kidding me" before just forging ahead, one of the funniest things I've Ever read; the Greer/Embry reunion sex where he comes inside her super quick and is like "WHOOPS SORRY" and eats her out immediately after; the "Embry Lost So He Gets Mild CBT" scenes which fr is one of the filthiest things I've EVER READ; the "Ash Lost So He Gets Face Fucked" scene, largely because of "the might Maxen Colchester has a gag reflex" ugh kill me; the "Embry fucks Ash with a dildo in the sex club" flashback; Ash and Embry's Last First, CRYING TEARS.

Writing all that out (and look dude, when I say I reread those scenes a lot, I AM SERIOUS) I realize there isn't a single solo Ash/Greer scene, and it's not that I don't love them, but they have the least FRAUGHT sex scenes so it's less memorable. Like, my favorite Ash/Greer sex scene is in American Queen after he finds out Embry had sex with her first and he's super jealous of both of them (and she doesn't... fully realize that yet) and fucks her being like "AND DID HE DO THIS??? AND THIS?????". It's great love that content.

Salt in the Wound: the scene where Mark takes Isolde's virginity with fingers on and is like "LOOK AT YOU DOING SO GOOD" while she cries and fully realizes that she is a true masochist, 'twas very hot

Salt Kiss: obviously, the entire "deflowering of Tristan" saga lmao, but ESPECIALLY when Mark is like "Tristan I've fucked you like twice in the last hour I'm not gonna fuck you again" and Tristan goes ":(" only for that sentence to end with ".... so instead you get to eat my ass while I sit on your face, LUCKY YOOOOOOU". I also really love the scene in the mini short "Beg Me" where Mark makes Tristan fuck a pocket pussy (while being all "IF I HAD A WIFE I WOULD LOVE TO WATCH YOU FUCK HER AND IT WOULD BE AMAZING AND GREAT", a fact??? Tristan??? Super????? Misses out on???? When it turns out Mark DOES have a future wife????) before he fucks Tristan and continues to talk about how great it would be if there was a wife here lmao; I also reeeeally love the scene where Tristan and Isolde fuck in that yacht chapel thing. SO. GOOD. SUCH. ANGST.

Obviously, I love many scenes from her Bell Brothers series; the altarfucking scene in Priest; the "holy oil as anal lube" scene, also in Priest; the "let's have anal sex for the first time in a convent" scene in Sinner; the "let's pretend I'm a naughty monk and you're tempting me" outdoor blow job in Saint. All great content. Love it. Amazing.

ANYWAY. NON-SIERRA. Sierra is just the queen of sex scenes, I'm sorry.

I looove the scene in Give Me More by Sara Cate where Hunter, Drake, and Isabel finally have sex after Hunter's admitted that he loves Drake in a romantic manner. It's super hot and also weirdly sweet.

Kristen Callihan's Game On series is REAL GOOD in terms of sex scenes. There's a great scene in The Friend Zone where the heroine is like, taking care of the hero because he's typically been a real caregiver in his family. First of all, she greets him wearing a fake jersey that says "nothing's getting past my tight end". He's a tight end, and I personally think that's love. And then she fingers his ass during to climax and he's super grateful about it because nobody has ever done that before and he felt very loved lmao.

Act Your Age by Eve Dangerfield has SEVERAL very good scenes where they're roleplaying stepfather/stepdaughter stuff, but I think the scene that really sticks out to me remains the first scene where they're in the dark and she doesn't know it's him (and he doesn't know that she doesn't know) and she's going down on him and starts calling him "Daddy" and he like. FREEZES lol.

Reckless by Stella Rhys has an amazing scene where the hero and heroine are boss/employee but also best friends, and he's been helping her get through her realization that her fiance cheated, which has caused a lot of sexual tension... And then in his OFFICE one day, he's just like "use me" and BOOM FRIENDSHIP CORRUPTED. There's also a later scene where he has a very bad work call and she like, undoes her top and is all "you may use my tits to help yourself recover from the manpain you're experiencing right now". Like they're his pacifier. I was... about it.

Minx by Sophie Lark has a scene I read like thrice where the heroine is blowing the hero and then begins fingering him and he's like "nooooow I get why women like to be penetrated". There's also a scene I love where she's like "oh no, I'm on my period" and he goes "DON'T CARE". He might even go down on her.

The All the King's Men Duology by Kennedy Ryan--the scene where he gets her off by sticking his head under her sweatshirt and going to town on her nipples while her coworkers are on the other side of the wall; I mean, I hate to continue... to show my hand.... with this lol, but also the scene where she's blowing him and gives him the ol' bonus pleasure (a finger in his ass)

Mercy by Sara Cate--the pegging scene. That is all.

Possession by Adriana Anders has an amazing scene where the hero kidnaps the heroine (with her consent beforehand) and spit roasts her with his ol' buddy ol' pal. There's also a deleted short about them where he brings in like... three other buddies.... and they all go at her at the same time. AMAZING.

Managed by Kristen Callhan--the whole scene where after they have this really passionate sex he pushes his cum back in her

Lead by Kylie Scott--the scene where they're all "it'll be fine if we just get it out of our systems!!!" and he fucks her on a table while she's wearing like, a FUCKIN BOOT FOR HER BROKEN FOOT LMAO (she broke her foot trying to kick down a door dramatically); and the scene where they have emotional missionary sex and kiss for the first time

Deep by Kylie Scott--the hero finds out the heroine, pregnant with their one night stand baby, has been masturbating a lot and is all "I AM RESPONSIBLE FOR TAKING CARE OF YOUR NEEDS FROM NOW ON" and fingers her to orgasm lol

Preferential Treatment by Heather Guerre--the scene where they play chess while he's inside her and she's in his lap facing away from him, and if he comes he loses or something lol

Heated Rivalry and The Long Game by Rachel Reid--the scene where Ilya's won player of the year or something so after he drinks vodka while watching Shane finger himself; the "I want to look at you during" sex scene where Ilya uses endearments during and Shane is like "OH NOOOOO HE'S LIKE FALLING IN LOVE WITH ME??? ABORT!!!"; the scene after they actually say I love you. SUCH EMOTIONAL SEX SCENES. Oh wait also the scene where Shane is on the phone with his BFF and Ilya is like "I'm just gonna blow you during carry on".

And in TLG, the "I'm fucking a king in his throne room" scene because sometimes you've just got to fuck the confidence back into someone.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Several Sentences Sunday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

I haven’t posted a Seven Several Sentences Sunday in weeks but I have posted several Buddie fanfics since the hiatus began.

The sentences below are from a new fic I started writing today and I’m super excited about it.  This will be my FANON speculation journey for Buck and Eddie and The Buckley-Diaz Family in season 7. After 6x18 aired, I mentioned in a blog post that I will not post any CANON blogs that include speculations for the upcoming season but in that same post I indicated that I would include season 7 speculation in my fanfics.  Hence the reason for this new fic that I’m currently writing.

Please note: By the end of season 6, there were a lot of CANON “implications” about Eddie dating again that didn’t make any narrative sense along with Buck’s 1,001 storylines that weren’t concluded and it made everything about the completion of their arcs feel rushed and discombobulated.  There were too many unanswered questions with regards to Buck and Eddie, Eddie and Chris, Buck and Chris and The Buckley-Diaz Family for me to ignore.  Therefore, I’m writing this multi-chapter fic as a creative way to expound on the implications I found within their unfinished storylines because it’ll help me make sense of whatever the Frick Frack the showrunner(s) epically failed at with their sloppy execution at attempting to close their arcs at the end of 6x18 “Pay it Forward”.  Both the characters of Buck and Eddie and the actors OS and RG DESERVE BETTER than a season 4 redux of one-dimensional love interests and unimaginative storylines so my plan for this fic is to give them the Happy Ending they deserve and the one a lot of the audience hopes to still see.

I’m writing this fic to unravel the unnecessary ridiculousness of the things that were included in 6x14 – 6x18 for Buck, Eddie and Chris.  It’s therapeutic and I can’t wait to keep working on it.

____________________

“Eddie?”  Buck whispers.

Even though he’d prefer to rush this to find out what’s going on, he patiently waits for Buck to continue.

Buck whispers, “Eddie? I thought I could fix it.”

“Fix what Buck?”

Buck shakes his head from side to side like he’s saying no to someone but Eddie doesn’t remove his hands as he continues to hold onto Buck’s face.  

“I thought I could fix everything that I—I… couldn’t fix with Daniel by donating my sperm so they could have a baby.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows since he’s confused because the last thing Buck told the team was that he delivered Connor and Kameron’s baby on the couch Margaret bought for him and Buck took the death doula or whatever with him when he went to buy a new couch. Buck also said the baby was fine and healthy so he needs for Buck to tell him more so he’ll know how to help him.

A gut-wrenching sob escapes Buck’s mouth and he starts shaking. He falls forward and almost hits the pavement but Eddie catches him.

“After the baby was born…”  Buck speaks through heavy and loud sobs.  “I—I thought my parents would finally see me but they… they…”  He inhales a deep sob, then through bated breaths, he cries and admits, “They didn’t tell me about it.”

“Buck?  What didn’t they tell you?”

“That I—I… I can’t have kids!”

____________________

My goal is to post the first chapter within the next few days.  Please let me know if you want to be tagged so you can receive a notification every time a new chapter is posted on AO3.  

No pressure tagging: @shortsighted-owl and @spotsandsocks (My apologies if you’ve already posted your Seven Sentence Sunday today). 

[panda-noosh]

my battle with creative joy

hi everyone!

so here i am actually making a blog post. not a fic (sorry...) but an actual, real life blog post where i will just ramble and probably make no sense. i hope you guys don’t mind. i would also like to think you’re used to it by now.

i’ve had a lot on my mind recently when it comes to my creative process, and my creative life in general. from the age i could pick up a pen, i have used writing as an escape, and it has always been a fun thing for me to do (obviously). i remember spending the entire night working on a fic, or having pieces that were over 200k long because i just got in these moments where i couldn’t stop myself from saying more, writing more, creating more. it was an addiction. a good one, but an addiction nonetheless.

the thing that has been playing on my mind, however, is how sad i am that i’ve lost that side of myself.

there are many reasons for this that i cannot beat myself up over; work, life, being an adult. i now have a fiance, and a dog, and a house i have to take care of, because it is my own. i now have a full time job in health care, where the hours are endless and the stress is endless, and it really leaves no room whatsoever to process anything but what you have just seen, or endured, or had to deal with. these are all things out of my control, because as hard as it is to come to terms with it, life is more than just. . . doing what you want.

trust me, i cried over this too. many times.

i get asks on the daily about whether i’m still active, or if i plan on writing anymore (insert fandom here) fics, and i always, always say yes, because i think speaking it into existence will potentially benefit me in the long run. saying no just feels like i’m giving in, and i don’t want to do that, because i would genuinely love to revive this blog, run it the way i used to, interact with you guys in the way i used to. but it’s difficult. it’s impossible some days, because life doesn’t accommodate. it just. . . throws you tasks that you have to deal with whilst keeping yourself sane at the same time.

creative joy is something i’ve been trying to find again for a while now, and it definitely is a work in progress. i still love writing - i know that. but in the same breath, i’m at that age now where i want to make writing my full time job, and that means the dynamic between myself and my creative joy has changed drastically. i no longer sit at my computer with a burst of inspiration and ideas flooding to my head. i sit at my computer now because i have a future in mind that i need to reach. that means word count goals, and schedules, and self doubt. that means getting frustrated with my own capabilities. that means writing for thirty minutes before getting worn down - such a change from the teenager who could sit at her laptop all night without even batting an eye.

it’s sad to think about sometimes, and sometimes i do beat myself up over it. that’s why i’m trying to find that joy again. i’m not being difficult on myself any more - if i want to ditch a project and write something else, that’s what i’ll do. if i want to flesh out a character that has no story to fit into, i’ll do that. if work has exhausted me, i’m going to go to bed without stressing about how behind i’ll be on this imaginary deadline for a novel i’ve set in my head. i’m going to chill out.

i’ve actually really started focusing on self care in this way for a few months now, and it has left me feeling very enlightened, i won’t lie. you don’t realise how harsh you are to yourself until you actually start putting the measures in place to be kind to your mind and body. just putting yourself first, really, and knowing that you should always be your own first priority - for your sake, and everybody else’s.

i don’t know. i just had a lot on my mind in regards to this topic, and i wanted to share it somewhere. i’ll probably do more of these, even if nobody cares to read them lol. they’re just therapeutic to me, so if you’ve read this far, thank you. i’d love to hear your thoughts on this whole thing, and maybe we can help each other out. make a little self-improvement, self-care thing here at case de aticus. 

love you all! 

[jolalibrary]

hi jo! i hope you’re having a great day <3 for the writer asks: 🍛🍥🍡 xx

awww babe!! thank you so much! i hope you're having a good one too!!!!

🍛 Have any comments, tags or reactions to one of your fics ever made you laugh or cry or both?

i had an absolutely lovely reaction from someone on LNT (tbf i had some really lovely ones throughout that series) about how much they loved reading the series, that their job was stressful and it was a nice escape for them. and omg, i literally cried, cause that's all I've ever ever wanted with my writing when i share it 🩷

🍥 What's your favorite fic you've written?

omggggg this is so hard. okay, i have LOADS, because (is this big headed?) but i do love quite a few of my fics. BUT, i'm going to go with arepas, because without me writing it we wouldn't have ever had LNT. but also it was the most "me" fic i'd written in a super long time, and it makes me so happy even now when i read it.

🍡 Which of your fics was the most emotionally difficult to write?

not to get superrrrr deep, but a broken sight (a javi fic) because i wrote it because the night before my garden was broken into and i was so terrified, i couldn't sleep, i hadn't slept, and it was so therapeutic to write all my feelings without having to tell someone what had happened. but it was also so difficult to edit because i just wanted to throw it up. it's also one I've not re-read since, because i'm still struggling with feeling safe because of what happened.

sunday funday asks

[yellobb]

15 Questions Tag Game!

Thank you so much to the wonderful, amazing, stunning @raenestee and @shrekgogurt for tagging me 🥰 I love oversharing and I love other people oversharing, so this was a lot of fun! I definitely wrote a fuck ton, so it's under a cut 😅

No pressure tagging: @onepintobean @frjsti @angelsfalling16 @skeedelvee @cutestkilla @moodandmist @petedavidsonscock @palimpsessed @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @gekkoinapeartree @confused-bi-queer @ivelovedhimthroughworse @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @martsonmars @chen-chen-chen-again-chen

1. Are you named after anyone?

My first (government) name is from my aunt on my dad's side and my middle name is from my great grandma :) The nickname Macey is something my grandma came up with, and it has certainly stuck! I dunno, my full name is gorgeous, but it's not really me, so Macey has always suited me just fine 😌

2. When was the last time you cried?

Relatively recently 😅 It was... last Saturday, I believe. One of my best friends got me the book Burn After Writing by Sharon Jones, which is essentially a journal that prompts you with different questions about your past, present, and future. I was stressed and anxious about my future and feeling generally shitty, so I cracked it open. I wrote for the prompt "You have 9 minutes to live and you have a pen and paper. You can get a message out to the people close to you, giving them the best that you have learned. Give them something to carry with them in their own lives. What do you have to pass on?" It was incredibly therapeutic, but I also cried a lot, since I wrote to my sister, mom, and grandma about the things I'd learned and what I wanted them to know. Idk, it was a great exercise in gratitude for the people I care about most in life while also making me think about the lessons life has taught me

3. Do you have kids?

Not yet! I hope to adopt or foster one day. I'm aroace and deathly afraid of pain, so having bio kids isn't in the cards for me, but I still want to help kids. I love working with them, so I hope one day I'll be in a place where I can take care of a few, whether temporary or permanent :)

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Not at all lol. I only tend to around the people I've known for the longest, and even then I don't really like it. I just feel like I'm being mean when I'm being sarcastic, which isn't great. Not that sarcasm is mean in general, it just doesn't land when I do it, so I try to be as genuine as I can be. My brother got all the sarcasm genes lol

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

I'd say the way they behave, probably. Like, are they talkative or quiet? What's their mood like? Stuff like that. I'm notoriously unobservant about physical characteristics (I'd have to think about it to tell you what my best friend of over a decade's eye color was whoops)

6. What’s your eye color?

Brown! Not super dark, but definitely not hazel.

7. Scary movie or happy endings?

I'd say happy endings. I do like some good sad endings, too, but only in controlled settings, like fanfic

8. Any special talents?

Not sure what counts as a special talent, but I can play the oboe and alto sax, so that's cool! I also pick up song lyrics really quickly, have gotten a perfect score on the jetpunk name all the countries of the world quiz, and can imitate the Disney font, but only to write "Disney" lmao (proof attached) (my sister thinks this one is a whole ass personality trait)

9. Where were you born?

The eastern coast of Virginia! I can't get too specific since I still live there when I'm not at school lol

10. What are your hobbies?

I'm a serial hobbyist. I think it's an ADHD thing, but I want to learn everything, but I almost never stick with the skills I learn. I'd say the ones that I have right now are art, reading fanfic (this counts!), video games, watching YouTube, and hiking

11. Do you have any pets?

I do!!!!!!!! My family has a dog (Piper) and a cat (Wishbone). I also count my grandparents' dogs (Nip and Tuck) and cat (Toby), since I used to spend half of every single week at their house (not exaggerating)

Piper and Wishbone are both sweetiepies 😭❤️ They both are very lovey-dovey, though Piper is a lot more hyperactive. Piper loves to play and terrorize the local wildlife, but she always comes and curls up with me to take naps in the bend of my legs. Wishbone is more hesitant about cuddles, though she's always down to play or receive pets. She's lied on my lap three (3!) times, and it melts my heart, since she makes muffins on my tummy first 😭❤️

Nip and Tuck are brothers, and they're old men in little puppy bodies. Nippie is very calm most of the time, just wanting to lie on laps and get pets, but he's also a manipulative little bugger. He likes to drop his treats when him and Tuckie get them, bark until Tuckie switches treats with him, then abandons his new treats to do it again. Or drop treats and stare at them until Tucker comes to pick them up, then bark like a madman when he does. Tucker is more of a sweetheart. He's a butterball, since he tends to eat some of Nipper's leftovers, but that's okay. He likes attacking my hair lol. Both of them are big face-lickers (Tuck is on the left and Nip is on the right)

Toby is a fat asshole lmao. He likes being around people he knows, but you can't come too close or he'll fight you. He bullies the puppies (he's way bigger than them) to the point where poor Nippie has anxiety!

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

I tried a bunch when I was little, but dance and swimming have stuck around the longest. I did dance (ballet, tap, and jazz) from when I was a little 5yo (hehe I actually had a picture of me and my sister in our costumes on hand, so enjoy) until I graduated high school. I still enjoy jazz dance in particular a lot, but haven't really found an avenue to continue it casually yet

Swimming I've done since I was like 6, if I had to guess. We have a pond in my backyard, so my mom wanted to make sure my siblings and I knew how to swim just in case. I ended up doing summer league from 10-18 and being on the varsity team at my high school (not a high bar, I'm very slow lol). Whenever I want to get a workout in, I go swimming above anything else. It's just so nice to be in the water :) Also, my main stroke is backstroke since it's the best one no I will not be taking criticisms

13. How tall are you?

5'6"

14. Favorite subject at school?

In high school I was always a STEM gal (with an emphasis on the STE). Right now, I like my more creative ones, so human-computer interaction, cinema courses, or anything that involves creative computing :)

15. Dream job?

Something that I won't get burnt out on, that allows me to work later in the day in the day instead of early in the morning. I want to do something with virtual reality and/or video games, but in a position where I can do all the different things. Design the experience, make the art, make the script, and code the stuff. I just love the creative process of video games and the art you can make with it and am also obsessed with virtual reality as a medium :)

[littlemourningstar]

15 Questions / 15 People

I was tagged by @fragileizy and @plotbunnypettingzoo !!! Thank you both so much this was a lot of fun!!

1. Are you named after anyone?

In a way!

My mom was a bank teller when she was pregnant with me and had an older man come in who was a regular. He said he’d see my mom in a couple weeks but she said she’d be on maternity leave. He asked what she was having and she told him a girl. He said he had a few granddaughters and asked what my name was. My mom was torn between Ashleigh (yes spelled like that) and Laurynn (yes also spelled like that). He said they were beautiful names and mentioned his granddaughters names. One of them was mine and my mom loved it so much she added it to the collection.

When I was born, my mom called my brother and asked him what my name should be. He picked my name!

2. What was the last time you cried?

Last night lol. Being sick has sucked so bad but I’m getting better now!! Hooray!!

3. Do you have kids?

Nope, I can’t have kids. I’m very much content being an aunt to four. I do however refer to my pup as my son so in a way I do.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Not as much as I used too! I don’t really talk much to other people anymore so it’s not something I notice myself doing much these days.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Not sure! Probably their build? Tall, short, wide hips, big boobs, nice legs, what was the question again?

6. What’s your eye color?

Blue! Like a greyish blue with a lil bit of green.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

A healthy mix of both! I find myself getting way too emotional with regular movies so I prefer a balance of both to keep my sanity. But usually only if the scary movie is well done. I’m more interested in the story and how it’s told than the genre.

8. Any special talents?

Not particularly lol. I’d say probably singing or putting puzzles together quickly.

9. Where were you born?

Luckily! A hospital. I was almost born in my parents red minivan.

10. What are your hobbies?

Doing puzzles, writing, drawing, dancing, singing, daydreaming.

11. Do you have a pet?

I do!! I have a 9 year old mutt named Cody whom I love with all my heart. He’s got anxiety like me and is super friendly but a little skittish around kids. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s been with me through most of the bad things in my life up to this point but he’s still a little puppy at heart and everyone he meets loves him.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

As a kid I did tennis a little recreationally, played on my local soccer league team for a couple years, then joined cheer for a few years and loved it. Unfortunately, freshman year I had to quit for personal and health related reasons.

13. How tall are you?

4 foot 11 inches!! I was one of the shortest people at my school but I never let that stop me from being a big problem.

14. Favorite subject in school?

Art! Cheesy as it is. But other than that I’d have to say maybe math? I loved algebra honestly.

15. Dream job?

Furniture assembler. I love putting together pieces of furniture. It’s so therapeutic for me. But other than that probably a comedian! People always say I’m funny and I have some pretty interesting stories I could tell.

I tag: @writerriderdirtythirties @talkstoself @miraculouslymundane @jumpingbeanz @theultracharmingladynoire @biochemandmonsters @piratesandpizza & anyone else who wants to do this fun little game! 💕💕

[suugrbunz]

Hey! 💝anon here.. That was me giving tips earlier.. Been back on Tumblr for just a couple days, clearing out my old account, saying hellos to old online friends. Thank you, so much, for how you inspired my story last year. You motivated me - so much!

The story finished. I adidn’t do a huge amount with Maureen & Lyam’s relationship; they had a few more moments together, bonding & learning to trust & appreciate each other. Their final moment in the story was their first kiss! (I can send a snippet if you’d like?)

I turned 19 last year (so, a bit younger than you I suppose :)) It’s been good, getting offline. It’s given me more time to do other things; learn gardening from an elderly relative, do some singing (on my own lol), spend time with my family, learn about things that interest me.

Anyway. Hope you’re doing okay and taking care of yourself, and you can find ways to make life easier, whatever those ways are. 

I understand about the streaming service thing. My family usually just watch cheap second hand DVDs (charity shop sells 20 DVDs for £1!), and occasionally use the cheaper version of Netflix (with ads). I use Internet Archive (archive.org) for books and films (manly older, lesser known films), it’s free, so that’s a good option. 

And totally, get away from Instagram & TikTok! If you think you’d be happier without it, drop it! People online can be really nasty. I quit looking at Reddit, & basically all comments, last year after I suffered a deep depression (due to peoples’ extremely nasty comments toward a part of lgbt that I identify with) Doing a lot better now. 

IDK, and it’s not my business, but hope something works for you. The best people, the ones worth knowing, are those who appreciate character and kindness over consumerist beauty ideals (I say consumerist cause it’s in my belief that we’re pretty well brainwashed to think “perfect looking” people look good; a way of getting people to keep buying makeup they don’t need and the latest fashions)

Ahh, hope this isn’t too much, I write fast and am only basing this all off a couple posts I saw you made, so I’m real sorry if it’s too much! I’ve got a ton of spare time today so I’m just rambling. 

I can’t be coming back to online socialising like I used to, as it took up so much of my limited spare time last year, so this is a rarity, just to say hello. Hugs 🫂 

💝anon

i literally cried seeing it was you— i was noshing on a gyro, crying alone in the kitchen. I have hereditary depression, so it won't get better. It'll always be there. It's just worse than normal lately. Hoping it'll calm down, I wrote and edited some of my book today.

This is like writing a lovely old pen pal, ah, it's nearly therapeutic. I think of you often. I'm nearing tears as i write this because something about talking to you has felt so homeward bound. I love archive, that's how I watched the clash movie, Rude Boy! I have some unread books I wish to finish, one is kafka and the other is khalil gibran. You should see the khalil gibran book, it has such an ornate cover.

I adopted a cat since we've last spoken, she was beside my neighbours house during a storm. I had been taking out my dog and heard her meowing. When i approached her, she immediately came to me. Oh, her name is Laila, she's a tortoise shell.

I definitely have to agree, we are brainwashed constantly to see aging as a sign of lost beauty. Similarly, we are taught that our bodies are never enough because whatever the trend is— it isn't for a girl with an hourglass body. I told my mother the other night, through lots of tears i have never truly loved myself. I mean, around puberty is when confidence develops, at least in my opinion. I got bullied for my body developing into what it now is. So, you can imagine what eating disorder shit i go through because of it. Only fueled by my mother also having a fucked up perception of body-image as well. I am trying my best to understand that my value is an independent variable from the weight on a scale.

Please send me all the writing you wish to, I remember loving your writing. I started publishing my book, but it's completely different. I had to change everything; it was going nowhere. I couldn't get a plot to stitch together. I was nearly at the point of deleting it. Then, out of the blue, I woke up after some dream and was like— "what if I used tamino as a faceclaim? What if x, y, z?". Soooo, i ended up experimenting with it and i actually followed through on replacing nick (i want to implement him in the new book tbh, i miss him). Ah, i hope you find the time to read the chapters I have published... that is if you want to read them, truly there is no pressure there. Again though; please send me your work.

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

Day 5: connection

Wow... Today was... Wow. Not what I was expecting. Like at all. I was having some trouble with myself and thoughts late last night and feeling so uncomfortable in this exploration, but knowing it was because I was outside my comfort zone and this is all just so new feeling. As I was showering, I thought to myself, I should go out to this yoga studio I like that offers their classes for free to trans people. My therapist had mentioned taking in person classes and I finally remembered to look up the classes.

I found one for today called Yoga Nidra, or sleeping yoga and I thought, hell yeah, I like the idea of getting to lay on my back with a blanket and listen to a meditation and singing bowls. I went in a bit nervous cause it's a new location with unknown people, but I wanted to stop being such a hermit and get out of my house more. I had laid down on the mat, thrown the blanket over me, and placed this bean bag thing over my eyes. I laid with a bolster under my knees and palms up as I listened to the teach guide the class through relaxing the body piece by piece.

She had guided us to imagine being in different locations, I can't remember the first location, but she had us imagining being at the edge of a pond facing a sunset. It was in that time I felt like I had sunken into my body and a flood of emotion overtook my body. It felt like a flood of cold, my body was shaking, and I felt so anxious. She told us then to imagine the moon and I tried to think about the moon and the craters and shadows, but my thoughts kept going back to fear, to this feeling of not wanting to dying, to being so scared because I was feeling so much.

I repeated to myself that I was Taylor. I was laying in a building in my city that is in my state and that I was going to be okay. I opened my eyes but they were still covered by the eye mask, but the slivers of light they peaked through grounded me. The practice ended with us rolling onto our sides then sitting up and as I was folding my blanket, I saw a giant palmetto bug making a bee line to me a few inches from my mat. My body was loose and my limbs weren't cooperating with me, but the teacher caught it in a jar and took it out. I think about that bug, one of the ones that creep me out and maybe it was there for a reason.

I was feeling so anxious and shaky after the session and I didn't feel like I could go home just yet. The yoga teacher had explained beforehand that she was also a therapist and she would spend some time after class in the lobby if anyone wanted to talk. I sat down in a chair and wait for the other student to leave and when she did, I asked the teacher if she would sit with me because I wasn't okay. I felt like crying, I did cry, and she stayed with me while I let that emotion out. We did a breathing exercise and I explained to her what I felt and how I felt it was related to this exploration that I was doing, the release of all that I was holding.

I had this beautiful moment with a stranger that I had asked for help, I gave myself that space to allow a stranger see me be scared and vulnerable and it was an act of love for myself to ask for something I need as well as an act of love to receive that care from someone I didn't know. She explained to me the therapeutic uses of yoga nedra and how it releases emotions that we have been carrying and I told her about the practice I felt was similar that my therapist I do to explore what emotions feel like when I give them the space and honor their presence.

I went home after getting a milkshake from Cook-out and tried to lay down to allow those feeling space, but I ended up in the bathroom listening to Encanto's soundtrack while I journaled what I was feeling. The bathroom is a safe space for me, a place where I could go to cry and be emotional without anyone hearing me. I would turn on the shower and cry and I don't really know if the shower and fan drowned out my cries, but it helped. And half way through writing, it just all felt like I understood what I was trying to do by undertaking this project.

That I am worthy not despite my flaws and broken bits, but because they are apart of my whole being. I am worthy of love and being loved and giving love because I'm Taylor, I don't have to be anything else, I don't have to make myself smaller, or quieter, or easier to handle, I am loved for my true being. And sure, I think those that tried to minimize me and make me feel smaller loved me, but not in a way that was healthy, sustainable, and was twinged with toxic believes and actions. I saw myself the way my friends I have now saw me and that I didn't have to have a skill or a service to offer them, I was just loved for being me.

I feel like a butterfly crawling out of my cocoon after being caterpillar goop and I'm learning to look and love my new wings, to let them open and flourish them, to feel the wind around them as I try to take off. I was having a lot of emotions recently after having a really tough 2022, after feeling burned out from work, after doing some heavy trauma healing work the last few months, but especially the last couple of weeks. There was a lot I needed to unleash and that yoga practice helped. I feel scared, but I feel hopeful.

[weebliss]

Getting By

If you would look at me now, you would think I'm in the best position to write but no. I feel sad. I haven't cried. I'm not in the mood for anything today. I feel heavy. I hate people but kind of want to talk to some but not right now. Not right now.

These past few days, I was just dragging myself to finish my tasks. Just pushing myself to talk to people. Just doing my normal routine with a heavy heart. Just trying to live. but I'm sad. I'm sad. I'm sad.

So this is how it feels...

To say what you mean but some people take it as if you are trying to sound wise, so some feel the need to outsmart you with their deep comments and you are just staring at your screen feeling dumb for exposing yourself like that. Yeah, I agree. Facebook is toxic.

To really want to talk with your friends but you do not know where to start or how to express your ideas to them in such a way that you can protect them from the sadness you feel and to not sound like you are really that sad even if you are because you do not want them to get worried, so you just ask them to eat lunch together with you because you haven't done that for a month now because of work but still you are just happy because they are there to eat street foods with you because you are craving for it and to sip your coffee because you discovered this new flavor and just want to let them know it tastes good, and so they do it.

To talk to somebody who is an expert in Psychology and kind of want to talk to him even more but you just want him to be free from your woes because you know him personally. (He is kind enough to approach me first and to ask me what was wrong. He told me smart things I'm really craving to hear but stopped myself because it's getting late. Also, appreciated it that he cracked jokes from time to time and told me he just wanted to make me smile but really I was irritated because the jokes kept in the way with his smart conversation.)

To go out in the field today because staying at home will make you sadder and sharing the good news to others is the right thing to do only that you do not feel like smiling to strangers. You couldn't be more thankful for the locked gates, closed doors, and angry shouts from them telling you to go away. With all sincerity, I'm really happy with the rejections I received today.

To write my feelings and thoughts here because many say writing is therapeutic and even if you doubt it yourself that it will work this time you just did and it makes you happy because look at what you have written, you are sad but grateful...still grateful.

My mom is angry with me right now because I overcooked the rice again but I don't care because I know she understands and that I'm finishing this post with a sigh of relief because somehow the burden is off my shoulders as of the moment and I'm hopeful that there are still many things to be thankful for.

[maldito-arbol]

It’s time for Mal to Talk in the tags again because I’m too tired to do homework or write so I’m gonna use my energy for this