#and no amount of trauma entirely excuses them

[lbhslefttiddie]

"Shen Jiu, you really are a demon!"

in which yue qi saves an injured fox kit, which turns out to be an young fox demon. once he's recovered enough strength, he adopts a human form so that he can talk to yue qi properly, but ends up being caught by the slave traders as well. Since he can change form, it would be pretty easy for him to escape, but if he's discovered as a demon he'll never be able to return, and he has no home or family anyways, so he decides he would rather stay and help qi-ge, who will probably get himself killed without someone to stop him from doing stupid shit.

when shen jiu saves yue qi from death by horse carriage, and subsequently is bought by qiu jianluo, fairly quickly qjl realizes he is not human, and delightedly gifts him with a enchanted collar, which renders him unable to chnage forms, stuck in him demonic form and unable to change to full fox or full human shape. like this, he cannot leave the qiu manor at all without immediately giving himself away, even if qjl hadnt also locked him up. like this, he has no choice but to wait until yq makes his way back to the qiu manor at last, but when he's finally freed, he's initially almost feral from how he's been treated, and very nearly kills yqy...

[queenlokibeth]

.

[the-music-maniac]

Not that I read mpreg all that often (not really my thing generally speaking) but I came across some "Sanji is pregnant" fics in the sanzo/zosan tag, and not nearly the same amount for Zoro. It got me thinking about the trope. I think the lack of Zoro fics here is a tragic oversight. I think we as a fandom are absolutely and tragically ignoring the potential comedy gold of Zoro being the one to be pregnant instead.

Because when people write Sanji, the general trend I'm seeing (upon scanning through some of the fics quickly) is that he's cautious about it. Conscientious, careful to make sure things are okay. Which - arguably I could see, Sanji is probably the more practical of the two (not by a whole lot but still)and he didn't have a good childhood. Sanji being pregnant is usually a fic about his heaps of parental issues, childhood trauma and angst - which is fun to read. It's good. It's amazing, even.

Zoro being pregnant is ONE HUNDRED PERCENT gonna be a COMEDY. We're talking about a man who once tried to fight Kuina holding like 20 bokkens. We're talking about a man who got stuck in wax and thought the reasonable solution was to cut off his legs.

The entire crew spends the next 9 months tearing their hair out, preventing Zoro from doing stupid shit (exhibit A: cutting off his own limbs). They spend the same amount of time trying to stop Luffy from gum-gum-grabbing Zoro and yeeting him anytime he needs to get them out of a sticky situation.

The crew (mostly Sanji) is on 24/7 prevent-zoro-from-drinking-alcohol duty (impossible). Chopper is constantly stressed in the later months cause no one puts it past Zoro to get lost somewhere, give birth out in the woods and come strolling back with a baby tucked under his arm. They have to start hiding Zoro's dumbbells.

Franky and Usopp design and build a nursery and spends the entire time suspiciously teary eyed. Sanji tries to pretend he's unaffected but spends an entire night creating a 9 month meal plan of all the nutrients Zoro and the baby are gonna need. Not even a day later, one of the crew finds him up at 2 am making a mountain of food because Zoro made the mistake of offhandedly mentioning he had particular pregnancy craving within earshot of Sanji. In the end Zoro has to sit on him to stop Sanji from running himself ragged.

Robin keeps spouting morbid childbirth facts and quotes from parental advice books in equal measure. Nami keeps going on shopping sprees for cute baby clothes and adding the cost of them to Zoro's debt. Brook keeps writing lullabies and trying to sing them to Zoro's stomach. Zoro 100% uses his pregnancy belly as an excuse to walk around without a shirt 24/7 without getting nagged.

Somehow word gets out that the famous pirate hunter Zoro is pregnant, and at the next big fight with the Marines, half the soldiers refuse to fight him and instead start telling him to sit down, take it easy, shouting advice at him etc. Etc. Zoro loses his shit a little bit and cuts their boat in half.

Mihawk, upon finding out, tells Zoro in no uncertain terms that that is his grandchild and he's expecting them to visit so he can meet the baby when they're born. Zoro vehemently denies that Mihawk is his father (he is). Zeff upon finding out, is almost as bad as Sanji when it comes to being a mother hen. Perona buys even more baby clothes for the baby. She buys one singular shirt for Zoro as a joke, and it coincidentally happens to be the exact same brand of "mama" crop top he was forced to wear in that one filler episode. Zoro tries to chuck it into the ocean (he fails).

I'm essentially saying it would be absolute chaos, and it would be the funniest thing I've ever read. 9 months of Marimo wrangling. Can you imagine the look on Zoro's face if one of the opponents he was fighting were to tell him that he's "glowing"?

PLEASE, I would actually wheeze myself to death. The best part is you can still have plenty of Sanji angst. He still has parental issues except now they're flavoured with "I'm not ready to be a father" and "I'm terrified I'm gonna become my biological sperm donor" and "please don't die because of childbirth complications, that happened to my mother(sort of, I know she died after but it kinda counts), and I can't handle that happening again to you". Lots of cute/tender moments of Zoro comforting and reassuring Sanji. We can even have Zoro angst. He probably views protecting his crew as the one and only job he's good for (not true but that's probably what he thinks). Not being able to fulfill that is probably not helping his self esteem, and that sense of uselessness warring with his need to protect the baby - but the contradictory thing here is that to protect the baby he HAS to sit back and let other people do that FOR him. That plus all the other restrictions, people treating him differently, but him at the same time refusing to view his own child as a weakness. Imagine the havoc that would wreak. Oh my god.

Y'all don't understand, I don't even read mpreg that often and yet this is literally my ideal fic HAHAAAAA

[floralcavern]

My opinion on the IDF

(Because, yes, despite me being Pro-Israel, I still have ✨thoughts✨)

People need to stop comparing the I/P conflict to the Holocaust. It is nothing like the Holocaust and Israel is nothing like Germany. And you making that comparison really shows how little you actually know about WW2. Read any history book. Read Anne Frank, or Night. In fact, the closest thing to the Holocaust that is happening in this war is what is happening to the Israeli hostages. They are under way more of those conditions. 

No. If we are to ever compare this to any other war, it is more similar to the Vietnam War. 

The IDF is very similar to US soldiers in Vietnam.

Look. We can all agree that US was on the right side of Vietnam. They were helping the Southern Vietnamese from the Northern Vietnamese. So when you hear “They were on the right side/good side” you automatically think they were the good guys. Wonderful heroes. And, yes, Vietnam veterans were heroes. But they did some fucked up shit. 

For example, according to one veteran, one time when one of his friends had been murdered, out of anger, they all burned an entire town down. US soldiers took out a lot of their frustrations and anger onto the Vietnamese. So while we all agree that they are on the right side and are the good guys, they did some fucked up shit. Stuff that cannot be excused at all. 

Another example is in WW2! We all think of the allies as the good guys! They fought against the terrible Nazis and yadada. America was on the good side, they were one of the main sides that took down Germany! So while we acknowledge that America was the right side the be on, we cannot forget the horrible things they did. For example..

They had Japanese concentration camps. 

Bet you didn’t know that. 

The reason for this was because the amount of violence they saw and experienced was involved with Japan. They were traumatized but it is no excuse to do something like that!

America was the right side, but they weren’t the perfect military. 

No military is perfect!!!!!!!!!!!

That includes the IDF. 

But here’s the thing, on the side of the ‘good guys’, usually when there’s extremely violent people in the military, there are usually two reasons for this. 

They have experienced horrors beyond comprehension while fighting on the battlefield, causing them to become jaded and bitter

Or 

2. They were always a violent person and they joined the war to take that out onto others. 

It is the tragic reality that every single military has people like this. It is history. The historical ‘good guys’ did horrible things as well. 

That brings me back to the Vietnam War. 

The soldiers saw so many horrible things that could actually compare very well to what the IDF has seen. 

US soldiers had no way to tell if a citizen was Northern Vietnamese or Southern Vietnamese. 

Usually by the time they learned, it was too late. 

There are stories of US soldiers having a Vietnamese child come up to them, holding something. About to give them a gift! But when they opened their hand, they were holding a grenade. 

That is so similar to what Hamas is doing. They use suicide bombers and child soldiers. Things like that will create an idea of they can’t trust anyone. Anyone could be out to hurt them and there’s the idea of almost animalistic fighting for survival. How can you trust when Hamas could literally send a child out to kill you?!

So, really, if you think about it, the US soldiers of the Vietnam War are very similar to the IDF. 

That sense of they can’t trust anyone, violence due to the trauma and being surrounded by enemies trying to do the same fucking thing (hell, Hamas has been committing terrorist attacks on Israel for years now). Even what the two sides fight for are somewhat similar! 

The US fought to help the Southern Vietnamese and gain freedom from their Northern neighbors. Israel is fighting for freedom from their neighbors who are constantly attacking them and freeing Palestinians from their oppressive government. 

It starts out virtuous and those ideas do carry on for the most part, but it also dissolves into animalistic violence and anger because of the shit they have seen.

Also, the way US Vietnam soldiers were treated in America is actually really similar to how Americans treat the IDF. 

Nowadays when we meet a Vietnam veteran, we comment on how brave they are and how they’re a hero. Back then, though? Ohhhhh boy. Americans hated them. When soldiers would come home, Americans would yell at them, spit on them, etc. Now, doesn’t that sound familiar?

So, TLDR;

I support Israel and I support the IDF in the same way I support America in WW2 and the Vietnam War. They’re on the right side and have virtuous intent, but they sure as hell aren’t perfect and have done some fucked up shit. Yknow. Like every other military in the world. The sad reality we live in. Not everything is black and white.

[fleshbride]

A HOUSE IN NEBRASKA. ────── ཐི Satoru Gojo x Fem Black Reader. In which a young man and his small town lover run to a house in Nebraska to escape the traumas of their hometown. ཋྀ

♱ CW: major character deaths, suicide, angst with a happy ending, brief alcoholism, racism/microagressions, childhood best friend & country satoru, small town bullshit, a single derogatory use of ‘nigga’. fluff. pet names such as: sugar plum, doll, honey, princess, baby girl, dream girl, darling, sweet thing & sunshine. smut; unprotected sex, whiny service dom gojo, sub reader. cervix fucking, fingering, oral (f! receiving), riding, breeding, extreme amounts of praise bc satoru talks so fucking much, overstimulation, dumbification, light choking, marking, nipple play, body worship, dacryphilia, begging, pussy drunk satoru. satoru is utterly in love with you and does not try to hide it. chubby reader.

♱ this fic is inspired by a house in nebraska by ethel cain, my favorite singer <3 it’s one of my much much longer fics… this fic is actually so ouch. i’m so so so sorry guys. like yeah there’s PASSIONATE love making, but it’s so so so sad. i actually sobbed writing this. it’s not proof read so pleaseeeee excuse any any mistakes!

♱ wc: 10.1k

You didn’t think it would hurt this much. You didn’t think you’d feel them lodge in your throat, push down your esophagus with a burn. You take more gulps of water, as you gasp and choke. It helps a little bit. You swallow more. And more. And more. Until the bottle of oxycodone is empty. How many were in there? About thirty. You grasp at another bottle. Cross contamination is always the best method. Those go down your throat just as horribly as the rest.

You’re sitting on the floor now, waiting for your death to approach. The pills are burning down to your stomach, and you gulp more water. You stand on shaky legs, and stumble your way to your bed. It’s empty. Like so many other things. Like your heart.

You remember how you got to this point, in your final hours. As you collapse into your bed, eyes fluttering shut, you allow the memories to wash over you.

Two years ago, you lived in a small town in Alabama. It was your nineteenth birthday and you were intent on celebrating in a way that satisfied you. However, while legally an adult, you still weren’t old enough to do too much. And frankly, you weren’t well liked within town. Why? Well, in such a small town, even one you grew up in, that was predominantly another race… They weren’t very accepting to your differences. They weren’t very accepting to your skin, to your hair, to your body, to your personality. They weren’t accepting to you at all.

Even though you grew up there like the rest of them, played with their children, held some of their sons and daughters while they cried and helped them pass their classes, and walked the graduation stage with them. You were still an outsider.

And it was okay — because you had Satoru.

Satoru Gojo, the one of the only other people of color in the entire town — even though he was pale haired, with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen, like everyone else in the town — was your best friend. You two had been best friends since third grade when he beat up some kid that called your afro ugly, and then you kicked some kid in the balls when he made fun of Satoru’s eyes, since he was Asian. Even at a young age, you two knew that those things were wrong — and you had to stick together.

And you did. You’ve stuck together all your lives, even through middle school, when your boobs started growing, and your hips started widening, and he got taller and his voice got deeper, and all of a sudden, there was this weird feeling. You stuck together through high school, when you got your first boyfriend, and he got his first girlfriend, neither of which ended well. Stuck together even when everyone twanged out, “Are y’all fuckin’?” You stuck together.

So of course, your birthday is spent with him.

Satoru still lives with his parents, technically. They own a ranch on the outskirts of town, and Satoru has his own personal little refurbished barn house, which he got for his graduation present. You’re always there, even more than your own home. Even now, you’re waiting on the wraparound porch of your house, hand over your eyes as you squint into the distance.

You can make out Satoru, on a horse, and with another at his side. He didn’t. You feel yourself squeal at the sight of the familiar white horse; your favorite one. Her name is Jezzy, and she’s the only white horse they have. You and Jezzy had bonded when Jezzy was first born, a little calf. You’ve been her favorite, and vice versa ever since. Frankly, she likes you more than the man that takes care of her.

You don’t wait for Satoru to get to your porch. You run to him, your gladiator sandals slapping against the dirt path and making your white-painted toes dusty. The pink and green floral dress you wear flutters around your knees as you sprint, the wind whipping your neck. Satoru hops down from his caramel horse, Honesty. He’s running to meet you half way, and the smile that had made its way onto your face only grows wider.

He yells your name, and you yell his, and the two of you collide. You throw your arms around his shoulders, and his arms encircle your waist as he lifts you up into a spin. “Happy Birthday, girl,” he laughs in your ear when he finally puts you down. His familiar Southern twang bouncing in your ears. He kisses your forehead, before taking a finger to run through your newly straightened hair.

“Yer curls are gone,” he says, almost sad, his lips pulling in a familiar pout. “You’re gonna get ‘em back, right? Love it when your hair’s like that.” He leans his arm on your shoulder, a familiar habit, even though he’s much taller than you.

“Yes, Satoru,” you muse, “They’ll be back next week, no worries.” You laugh as he whoops, and jumps in the air, clicking his heels together and causing dust to rise up. When he lands, he gives you a proud grin, folding his arms. You notice what he wears. He’s wearing a black polo shirt, that’s tucked into blue jeans and his jeans are messily tucked into his boots. You chuckle. Him and those fucking boots. His wind breaker is thrown over the polo. However, your eyes linger on how his chest presses against the polo. His white locks of hair frame his face, although his cowboy hat smushes his hair, and his sapphire eyes gaze at you happily. You don’t look away and he smirks.

“How’s it feel bein’ nineteen, sugar plum?” Satoru asks as he leads you to Jezzy, who’s quick to snort at you and nuzzle your face with her huge nose. You giggle and scratch her neck, pulling away a little so she doesn’t ruin the makeup you did on your face.

“Doesn’t feel like nothin’, Satoru,” you respond, jolting as he grabs your hips and lifts you to help you onto the horse. His strong hands on your hips make you bristle a little, but you should be used to it now, shouldn’t you? “Just getting older.” He grins up at you from below, giving a little laugh. “Yeah, I get it, plum. I’ll be turnin’ twenty in December, and man… I was just a tyke, wrestlin’ in the fields yesterday.”

You laugh, watching as he boards Honesty. You two start the horses up and begin trotting down the path. There’s a few seconds of silence, before Satoru asks, “You sure y’wanna do this birthday party?”

Ah. You were so swept up by Satoru’s arrival that you forgot where he was taking you. His mother threw a party for you, and decided to invite ‘damn near everyone in town’, according to Satoru. He was very dubious, considering your treatment, but you agreed to it. At first, your mother wanted it to be a surprise party, but Satoru insistently shut that down.

“I’m sure, ‘Toru,” you say gently. The male smacks his teeth, and rolls his eyes a little, before adding, “We can tell my mama to cancel everything, y’know? She won’t be mad at’cha. She knows that the townspeople are dickheads.” You refuse the urge to laugh, because he’s right. They are dickheads. However, you have hope.

“It’s fine,” you insist, “I don’t wanna waste your mom’s hard work. Plus, I’m sure nobody’s gonna do anything on my birthday.” Satoru sighs, but he doesn’t press any further. You’re not too worried; you know if something does happen, he’s right behind you, and he’ll come in swinging. There hasn’t been a time that he hasn’t. However, despite that, you can’t help but secretly feel jittery and nervous.

The rest of your ride to Satoru’s home is filled with jokes, and playful banter. The cool night air swirls around you two, making you shiver a little. You should’ve brought your cardigan. Satoru’s eyes quickly catch on and he chucks his windbreaker at you. He doesn’t say a word as you catch it, he just nods at you. You slide it on, and even in the cool air, your cheeks feel hot.

When you two get in sight of the house, Satoru whistles out, “Race ‘ya!” And it catches you off guard, but you’re quick to spur Jezzy on into canter, her strong legs sprinting forward as the two of you race towards the large ranch house. You and Jezzy win, making Satoru groan. As you both slow down, beginning to head to the stables, he shoots, “You only won ‘cause it’s your birthday!”

Your smug smile says enough about how you feel about that; even though Satoru has more experience with horses, you have your own little luck with racing — you win every race.

You watch as Satoru slides off Honesty. She brays at him and nudges his shoulder, and he chuckles, cooing to her, grabbing both of the horses’ saddle handles, pulling them into the stable. You know better than to try to get off horses on your own; you’re thrown off balance, every time, and end up on your ass. So you wait patiently as he puts Honesty in her stable, before coming over to you.

“Didn’t forget ‘ya, sugar plum,” he grins at you as he presses his hands to your hips. Instead of helping you crawl down, he simply just lifts you down. The stables smell of a mixture of horse, hay and dirt. Even though it’s not the best smell, you’re not focused on it. You’re focused on the way Satoru looks over you as he sets you on, eyes raking over your figure.

The dress that’s glued to your wide hips, draped over your plush figure. Your makeup, delicately painted on your face; he can tell you took your time on it. And you’re still wearing his jacket. He smiles, tucking a strand of your collarbone-length hair behind your ear. “Look at you,” comes his affectionate murmur, one that makes a fuzzy, bubbly feeling spread from your toes to your head. “Just a doll. Prettiest fuckin’ girl in this entire town.” You feel those feelings rising inside of you, and you try to push him away, embarrassed as you say, “Oh, stop, Satoru,” but he pulls you closer by your waist, craning down to you to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Nuh-uh, doll. You jus’ look so beautiful. You always do, but tonight you’re just… wow. Yer glowin’, Y/N.” Your heart is racing as he squeezes the plush of your waist, making you let out a ticklish giggle. Often, there are random times where he gets affectionate with you, extremely so — you should be used to these moments, but you aren’t. Your hands fist into his shirt as his lips press from your forehead, to down your chin. Your breath catches when they get too close to your lips.

This isn’t friendship anymore, is it?

“Happy birthday, princess,” he whispers into your ear, finally pulling away. You look up at him, eyes wide, as you breathily respond, “Thank you…” Satoru looks down at you, smiling gently as he hold you. He murmurs, “I have a surprise for you, y’know. Think you’ll like it.” Before you can question him, he places a finger right above your lips. He’s considerate; doesn’t wanna ruin your lip combo. “A little into the party. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

The two of you pull away from each other hesitantly, and Satoru kicks at the hay as he grins at you. “Party time, birthday girl. Come on.” The two of you exit the stable, sides brushing as you walk to his house.

Within ten minutes, you regretted insisting on going. Once you entered the ranch, carols of your name and ‘happy birthday’ echoed throughout the large common room. It was decorated in gold and white, with balloons everywhere and a little banner hung up for you. Satoru’s mother gave you a large hug, and wrapped her arms around your waist, steering you around to see the cake she baked you. You were all smiles and beams, immediately falling into her, with Satoru lumbering after, your hand outstretched backwards, clasped in his.

After you saw the cake, which was tri-tiered and your favorite flavor, you were passed around from person to person. You got many hugs, from townspeople you were sure didn’t like you very much, and to be fair; you enjoyed the kind attention. You wished it was your birthday every day.

Until, you got to a certain group of young women. You had graduated with the group, even though they were nasty as hell to you. As they approached you, you knew it wouldn’t be good. Vanessa, a tall brunette with pretty hazel eyes, gave you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen, before pulling you into a hug. “Oh, Y/N! Happy birthday, baby!” She cooed, squeezing you. You swallowed, wrapping your arms around her in turn. “…Thank you, Vanessa.” Once Vanessa pulled away, her two friends, Isabel and Megan, gave you hugs also.

“Ugh, Y/N,” Isabel began, running her fingers through your shiny silk press, “You look so much prettier with straight hair! Is this your real hair?” You give an awkward laugh as you gently remove her hand from your hair, looking around for Satoru frantically. Partygoers heard her comment and turned to tune in, furthering your discomfort.

“Yeah, it’s my real hair, please don’t touch it,” you tell her sweetly, watching as she rolls her eyes a little. “I was just complimenting you! You should wear it like that all the time, it looks so much better than your other hair.” You bristle uncomfortably. Were these bitches being racist? You swallow hard and give her a nod, and a smile.

Vanessa steps forward, eyeing you over before she’s chirping loudly, “And that dress is soooo cute! But it’s kinda tight.. Have you gained weight, or something?” Your smile almost drops, but you manage to keep it up, as you let out a delayed, fake laugh. People are starting to whisper and nudge each other, and immediately, more nosy sons of bitches turn to eye you. You’ve always been a bit thicker — that’s no secret. You didn’t have the skinny white girl genes, no. You were filled in by the time you were 13, and even as a nineteen year old, you had a bit of a plump body. You weren’t overweight or obese; you were perfectly healthy. It was just the way your body was. And the fact that these girls thought they could pick on you about it?

You refused to let it happen on your birthday.

“Oh no,” you cooed gently, mirroring Vanessa’s tone, “I haven’t! But um, are you recovering?” You blink gently at her. Fine, you think mentally, if she wants to put on a show, we can do that.

“From what?” Vanessa chirps hesitantly, eyes narrowing. She didn’t think you knew, huh?

“Those butt injections you got last month!” You answer loudly, putting a hand over your heart. Vanessa’s eyes widened as she looked around frantically, as people slowly began to whisper intently. She wasn’t used to the whispers, it seemed.

You were visiting at the local doctor’s office, when you overheard the doctor’s conversation with Vanessa, she was asking some questions about pain for it. You hurried to the bathroom before you could be seen, keeping the information in your head. From the corner of your eye, you see Satoru making his way from the kitchen. He’s obviously heard what’s going on, and doesn’t look happy.

“I didn’t get no injections!” She claims, trying to take advantage of the situation, “Y/N, how could you spread such a nasty rumor?”

“Huh,” You say, “That’s real funny. So you’re just gaining weight too, hm? We should go to the gym together, do some cardio, you know? You must be eating a lot, if it’s all going to your ass!” You giggle, pushing her shoulder and making it all seem like some joke. She has no choice but to giggle with you.

“You know who I haven’t seen here?” Megan speaks up and immediately, you’re on edge. While Vanessa may be the face of the trio, she’s the one who’s more lethal and intelligent with her words. You’ve learned this too many times from high school. “Your parents, Y/N. Typical Black parents, you know? Never there when their kid needs them.” And more publicly racist. You resist the urge to grab this girl by her throat, and show her what exactly your Black parents had taught you. It isn’t like they’re absent — your father passed when you were a teen, and your mother was a chronic workaholic, struggling to provide for you.

“Crazy,” you hear a monotonous voice go behind you. You know exactly who it is, and you couldn’t be more relieved. In typical country boy fashion, Satoru is behind you, chewing on a toothpick. “Megan, weren’t ‘ya crying to me about how your poor dear ol’ daddy beats on ‘ya? Typical Megan, y’know? Always self-projectin’.” He whistles as he presses his hand to the small of your back, steering you out the ranch, the comments of the party trailing behind him. In the faint throes, you even hear, “That nigga bitch…”

You pretend it doesn’t bother you as Satoru leads you to his barn.

Once you’re comfortably nestled in the warmth of his barn, you let out your frustrations about the racism of the town. Satoru sits next to you, his toothpick still resting in his mouth. He watches you intently, before humming out, “Ya done, doll? Don’t let those assholes ruin yer day. Matter fact…” He got up, heading to his little kitchen. You only watched, still fuming a bit.

“Close yer eyes!” The white haired man yells at you, and you do so obediently, pretty brown eyes fluttering shut. You wait for him, hands folded in your lap. You hear the couch creak a little and something set on the table.

“Open ‘em,” you hear his gravelly voice tell you, and you obey. Your eyes lock on a cupcake, with a single candle in it. You soften considerably, calming down immediately.

“Aw, Satoru..” You whisper gently, placing your hand over his, eyes flickering from his face to the cupcake. “You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah I did,” he retorts, squeezing your hand. “You didn’t get to eat any of the cake, even though it was yours, and we needed to be alone anyways. Make a wish, honey.”

You close your eyes, leaning to the cupcake.

I wish that Satoru and I are together as long as we live, and even in death, may we stay together.

You blow out the candle then, before sliding the candle out the middle and licking the frosting off of it.

“One more thing,” Satoru says, sliding his hand into his pockets. He pulls out a golden heart-shaped locket from his pocket, dangling it around his finger. “This is for you, birthday girl.” He cracked open the locket, showing the pictures. On one side was a picture from third grade, the first day they met matter of fact — Satoru’s mother had taken it as a memento. On the other side was your graduation picture, where Satoru had his arm wrapped around you and his lips pressed into your forehead. How far you two had come.

He waves the locket in front of your face, as you gasp at the picture. “We haven’t been able to find this picture years, how did you….?” Satoru only grins and shrugs, as if it was nothing at all. In your pure bliss, you throw your arms around him. His arms wrap around your waist in turn, hugging you tightly.

You can feel tears budding in your eyes as you whimper out, “This was so nice of you…! I appreciate it so much, thank you, I love you!” Satoru laughs as he rocks you, before responding, “Shh. It was no biggie. C’mere, let me put it on for ‘ya.”

You pull away gently from each other, and you turn so that your back faces him. He drapes the necklace over your chest, using his knuckles to push your chin up a bit. He fiddles with the hooks a little before getting it right and letting go. You skim your fingers over the locket before turning back around with a smile.

He opened the locket, looking at the picture. “Man. Can’t believe I found photographs of our school, on the day we met.” He smiles a little, as he looks between the two small pictures. His eyes flicker up to you, then back down. You only watch him with softening eyes. Your heart pumps, and that bubbly feeling spreads through you again. He makes you feel so warm. You’re not an idiot, you know exactly what the things you feel are. You weren’t dense; you knew for a long time.

But you can’t bear to say a word before he did. However, you didn’t expect it to be so soon.

Satoru takes a deep breath, his eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. He gathers his courage before softly uttering, "I thought that you were so beautiful… it was love, I guess." His gaze remains fixed on you, his heart hanging in the balance, waiting for your response, hoping that his words have stirred something within you.

You don’t realize what he had said at first, before it registers. You double take, eyes widening as you look at him frantically. “Satoru. Satoru. It was what?” His face is pink as he looks away from you, but you were insistent, crawling closer to him as you plead, “It was what?” Your hands grab his shirt and he whistles, looking away from you.

Finally, he mumbles out, “… Was love, I guess.”

“What kind?” You press, tears bubbling in your eyes once more. It couldn’t be. He looks at you for what feels like hours. “You know what kind, darlin’. Don’t make me repeat myself. In a way I shouldn’t.”

“Say it.” You hiss, crawling into his lap. He spreads his legs immediately, making room for you as you place yourself in front of him, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “Tell me.” One of his hands rests on your hip and the other trails to play with your locket.

He looks almost shy this way, his blue eyes heavy lidded as you request his words. He sucks in an inhale before he’s saying, “I love you, Y/N…. and not as your best friend. I want ‘ya to be my girl. There, said it… Please let me be yours.”

You’re silent. He wants you to be his girl. Your brain is slow to process it, slow to understand it, slow to reciprocate. However, as you reflect upon his desire for you, a wave of emotions starts to wash over you. Confusion is gradually replaced by clarity, hesitation transforms into certainty, and the realization of his affection for you fills your heart with joy. Suddenly, everything seems to make sense, like a complex jigsaw puzzle finally coming together to reveal a beautiful picture.

“Okay.” It’s all you say. Satoru’s eyes widen, as if he was expecting a rejection. Before he can answer, you’re pressing your lips to his, finally taking the initiative for fucking once. When your lips crash against him, it’s like heaven and hell have collided in a fiery, desperate match.

Satoru’s hands grasp at you, desperate, as his tongue pushes its way into your mouth, curling against your tongue. The way you two kiss is messy, and needy, saliva coats your lips, but it couldn’t be better. Satoru pants into your mouth as he runs his hands over your body feverishly.

“Fuck,” he grunts into your mouth, pulling away briefly to adjust his pants as best as possible. “So hard, you got me s’hard, doll. Shit, shit, get up, or ‘m gonna explode..” You can feel his dick, straining against his jeans beneath you. You don’t get up from your spot, and he lets out a groan into your mouth.

Your hands are sliding under his shirt, feeling the firm abs underneath, trying to touch any bit of his skin you can. His hands squeeze the swell of your ass as he nips at your bottom lip, before sliding his lips down to your throat. He begins to kiss your throat before sucking, biting, making sure your skin is covered in dark marks.

You grab his cowboy hat and throw it off, so you’re able to sink your fingers into his white locks of hair, letting out slight moans as his hands move from your ass to your tits. He caresses them through your dress, and you hiccup as he finds your nipples.

“You ain’t even wearin’ a bra?” He asks you, pulling away from the curve of your neck, to look at you. Satoru’s eyes are glazed over, and low. His face is pink, his hair is ruffled, and his lips are swollen, but he’s never looked happier.

You shake your head, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. “It didn’t look right with my dress…” Satoru only stares at you, before he’s throwing his head back, groaning. “Fuck, I can’t do this. I can’t do this, princess, I need you so bad.” His chest rises and falls so rapidly, and you can feel his bulge pressing up against you as you sit on him.

You need him just as bad as he needs you, the wetness in your panties tells you all you need to know. Satoru is looking at you with those violently blue eyes. You realize that you’ve been holding your feelings back for years, even now — your love for him, your attraction, and your pure, unadulterated desire.

“Please,” he whispers, pressing a small kiss to your lips, “Please let me put it inside you, please, just the tip.. Please, please, please, fuck, it feels like ‘m gonna fuckin’ die, please, baby girl, need your pussy s’bad….” You enjoy the way he’s acting; you’ve never been wanted like this before, and you doubt you ever will.

“Satoru, you don’t have to beg,” you murmur, draping yourself across his body, arms around his shoulders as he palms your ass and sneaks his hand down to cup your clothed heat.

“Know I don’t,” he whispers, fingers pressing against you in a way that makes you lift your hips, and whine a little. “Look at how wet you are, girl. Any more and ya just may flood your panties.” His fingers push your panties to the side and you gasp as the cold air hits your pussy. His other hand hikes up your dress, balling it up in his fist.

“Gonna make you feel good first, doll,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your jawline. “Relax, ‘nd let Satoru take care of you, mkay?” You nodded feverishly as a finger slid through your plush folds. His finger almost immediately found your clit and swirled around it, causing you to let a little mewl escape your lips. Satoru’s lips were meanwhile pulled into a smug grin at the sound you made. He maneuvered your body, so you were lying back against the couch, legs spread for him.

He tugged your panties down your legs and tossed them somewhere, before pushing the fabric of your dress up and settling between your plump thighs. Without wasting any more time, his finger circled your entrance, teasing you. You huff a little, pouting down at the white haired man, and he grins in response before sliding two fingers into you.

You moan, arching your back as pleasure seeps through you. Satoru’s long fingers reach farther than yours ever could. He smiles at you as he curls his fingers against your walls. “Such pretty moans, good girl,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your thighs, as he begins to pump his fingers inside of you. Your thighs twitch, and you grip at the couch. His fingers are skilled, scissoring and curling, as the sloppy sound of your wetness echoed through the barn. Satoru leaned forward, enclosing his lips around your clit.

The combined effort of his fingers and his mouth had you squirming and whining beneath him. He pressed a hand to your stomach, his movements halting and eyes narrowing as they snapped to you; you know what he was telling you. Stop moving or he’d stop.

You couldn’t take that. You stilled your movements, trying your best to relax as Satoru slowly resumed his ministrations, lapping at your cunt while sliding his fingers in and out of you. His fingers curled against a spot that had your toes curling as you cried out his name. He pressed his tongue flat against your clit, and had another finger pressing into your heat. You let out a squeal at the slight burn, hand flying to grip his hair. “Satoru-! Ah, that’s too much!” He gave you a silencing glare, blue eyes honeyed with lust. His fingers nudged your g-spot, and the whine that left your lips let him know exactly what he had pressed.

His movements all sped up, as you felt your stomach tightening. Between each of your moans was a pant, as you cried of his name. Everytime his fingertips pressed against your g-spot, you felt yourself get closer and closer to orgasm. Mixed with his tongue swirling your clit, you couldn’t take it. Your thinking got fuzzy as the rubber band in your core was pulled farther and farther. “Toru! I-I’m close!” You whimpered, as his quick, skilled movements brought you to your peak. Your eyes rolled back as you gushed all over his fingers, breathing hard. You didn’t even notice, in your stupor, when he replaced his fingers with his tongue, lapping up your essence.

His tongue was flat against your entrance, as he licked from hole to clit and back again. When you finally came to, you were whining all over again, sensitive as Satoru flicked his tongue across your bundle of nerves. You pushed his head, letting out a. “Hold on, ‘m sensitive!” Satoru smacked your hand away, mumbling out, “Shh, doll. Gimme another one.”

He dived back in between your thighs, mouth latched onto your pussy as he pressed his tongue against your hole, fat tongue working itself while he slurped at your essence. A mixture of his spit and your juices dripped down your ass – but he was quick to slide his tongue down, licking that right up.

He was messy with his mouth, unabashedly slurping, sucking, and licking everything you had to offer, the wet smacking noises echoing through the room. You would’ve been embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good.

Before long, you were about to cum a second time, eyes squeezing closed as you gasped and spasmed, letting out a broken cry as another orgasm claimed your body. Satoru was ecstatic, lapping up your cum and guiding you through your high without breaking a sweat.

Once you came down from your high, he pulled away gently, his intense gaze locked on you. His eyes glimmered, pale hair askew as he latched his mouth back to yours. His hands gripped at your dress, yanking at the sleeves to pull them down your arms, before the entire dress was coming down to your waist.

Your lips moved feverishly as you fiddled with the buttons of his polo, and he raised his arms to slide it off. His buff form was revealed, abs firm and his strong arms moving to cocoon you against him. There were gentle words being exchanged between your lips. “So gorgeous, Y/N. Fuuuck, honey, can’t wait to feel your pussy ‘round my dick.” Satoru mumbles as his fingers fumble with his jeans. However, before he unbuttons them, he looks at you. “You sure you want this, sunshine? We can stop here, and keep kissin’. Fuck what I want, ‘kay? What does m’girl want?”

God, you didn’t think that he could get any hotter. But his consideration of your wants and needs make you get even wetter. “Satoru, I want you,” you say gently, one hand pressing to the side of his face. He nuzzles into your touch, eyes softening. “Want you too, sunshine. So much I just might go insane..” He finally unbuttoned those stupid jeans, yanking them down and his boxers with it. His length sprung out, and your eyes popped out of your head.

Satoru was the size that those fake ass dick pills promised, his tip pressing just under his belly button. His tip was mushroom shaped and fat, as pink as his blushed cheeks, and weeping fat beads of precum. His length was a bit on the skinnier side, and although his girth wasn’t anything to fear too much, his length definitely was. His dick was something straight out of porn propaganda.

“Toru, that’s not gonna fit,” you found yourself saying, your eyes flickering from his length to his pretty face in anxiousness. Satoru only leaned down to kiss you, shutting you up. “It’s okay, princess” he whispered sweetly. Even now, as his dick pressed against your stomach, his tip landed slightly above your navel. “Don’t be scared, ‘m gonna take such good care of you,” his kisses went down your neck, to your chest. He kissed around your breasts, before his tongue flicked out to lick your right nipple, hardening it. He turns his head, lavishing the same attention on your left. His hands multitasked, grabbing a pillow and sliding it underneath your back.

His kisses moved to the valley of your breasts, before going down your stomach. He pressed kisses into your love handles, to your stomach, to your cunt, which made you giggle, to your thighs, before he was holding up your legs and kissing up your calves. He even kissed your feet. He traced your stretch marks lovingly, murmuring out, “Only God knows how I’ve waited for this. For you. Fuck, Y/N, you’re just so fucking beautiful. More beautiful than any of the women in this town. Shit, I could cum just lookin’ at you…”

You couldn’t help but simper at his words, face warming as you wrap your legs around his waist. “Please just fuck me already, Satoru.” His tip slid against your clit and you let out a soft whine. “Please, just…” You were silenced by the feeling of him rubbing his tip down your slit, collecting your juices before you felt him pressing against your hole.

You hissed, hands flying up to his shoulders as your nails dug into his skin. To distract you from the burn of him entering you, he began to lather kisses and lovebites across your throat and collarbones. Your hole stretched around his tip, as tears burned in your eyes, the slight pain making you shift uncomfortably.

“It’s okay, baby girl, I got you,” he whispered against your skin, tongue sliding across your throat as he sucked more hickeys onto the expanse of your throat. He pushed his tip in, and once the burn of it faded, he fed you inch by inch of his dick. Your pussy constricted around him, sucking him in greedily as your juices coated his length.

The feeling of him bottoming out inside of you had you letting out a high-pitched whine, eyes rolling back. Above you, Satoru let out a whine identical to yours. “Oh, f-fuck,” he stuttered, his eyes squeezing shut, “Fuck, almost came. You’re so warm, ‘nd wet— You feel so good, baby doll, oh shit.. Your pussy’s grippin’ me so nicely, fuck, I-I can���t take it.. Oh my God, tell me when I can move…”

Satoru was breathing heavily, as he looked down at you, your pretty face contorted in pleasure as his tip nudged against your cervix. Just the feeling of him stretching you out had you seeing stars, euphoria coursing through your veins. When you finally adjusted, you tapped his shoulder, telling him you were ready.

Satoru pulled out, so that only his fat tip was inside of you, before rocking his hips into yours. That first shallow thrust had you release a hiccuped moan, gripping his shoulders. He took this as a positive sign. Satoru’s thrusts were slow, yet deep, and each time his tip was pressed to your cervix.

The feeling of it, thought it hurt some, was extremely pleasureful to you, and a whine of, “Faster, please,” exited your lips. Satoru’s brows furrowed slightly as he grinned. “Alright, darlin’ but when you can’t walk in the mornin’, don’t blame me!” He pulled out a little before pushing his hips into yours. He delivered you those deep strokes, just at a much faster pace.

Your tits bounced, body propelled forward as he held your thighs for stability, his dick stretching you out, stirring up your guts. The angle from the pillow only heightened your pleasure, and each thrust forced out a blissful whine or a whimper of his name from you.

Satoru let out heavy groans, not scared at all to let you know just how good you felt around him. And even better, he leaned down to let husky murmurs of praise fill your ears. “Such a good girl, takin’ me s’good… Like your pussy was made for me. You feel amazing, darlin’, wanna make you cum so bad… You feel good? Please tell me ‘m making you feel good, baby girl…” His voice was breathy and desperate in your ear, as you struggled to form the words he wanted to hear. “Please, baby? S-Shit, let me know how good ‘m making you feel on your birthday.”

His words only drive you crazier, head spinning as you gasp out, “Makin’ me feel s’good, Satoru! P-Please, please, please don’t stop, oh my God!” Satoru cursed under his breath as his hands slid from your thighs to your breasts, squeezing at them. His fingers circled your nipples, before he pulled, twisted and rolled them between his fingers. It only shoved you closer to the edge, as his tip briefly pressed against your g-spot. The brief gasp you gave from it let Satoru’s perceptive ass know, and he angled his hips to hit that spot, instead of your cervix.

The sound of your hips colliding filled your ears, along with Satoru’s raspy moans. Within no time, you were alerting him, “Toru, ‘m gonna c-cum again!” The third orgasm you had in a row, and it seemed like Satoru wasn’t stopping. He chuckled, moving one of the hands on your tits to swirl your clit in rough circles. “Mhm, go ‘head, sweet thing. Let go f’me.”

It pulsed underneath his finger pad, as your third climax seized your body. Your breathing heavy and quick as you let out gasped out, long moans and wails, your pussy clenching around his length as you creamed around him. Euphoria was spreading through you, to every part of your body.

Satoru’s eyes widened as he fucked you through your orgasm; his own was catching up to him, and it had him letting out deep whimpers mixed with his moans.

“Can I cum in you?” He gasped, hands gripping your waist. His nails digging into you so hard, crescent marks were being left on your skin. “Please, baby? Fuck, need to cum s’bad, and I wanna see my cum dripping from your pretty pussy…” He shoved his face into the curve of your neck as he began to beg. “Please, Y/N, wanna feel you around me while I fuckin’ cum, I-I need it, please, you feel s’perfect and I just wanna fill you up and watch it slide out. Wanna pump you full over and over until you’re filled with my babies—“ Satoru was rambling by now as he bucked desperately into you. He let out a shaky whine against your skin as your bodies collided passionately.

Your sensitive body quaked in his hold as he pleaded to cum in you. You couldn’t deny him, not when there were tears budding in his eyes, and his swollen dick was fucking you up like this, and he looked so pretty whining out your fucking name. You gave him a nod, even though your brain was foggy and you could barely care about what you were saying yes to.

Satoru let out a sigh of relief, moaning out, “Thank you, princess, thank you, thank you, love you, I love you—“ The feeling you got when you felt that first spurt of cum fill you was unbelievable. Warmth spread through you, as Satoru’s dick twitched and bobbed inside of you, before he was releasing his thick cum into you.

Just like he said he would, Satoru stuffed you full of his cum. He collapsed against you, face in your titties as you both breathed hard. He pulled out slowly, his dick getting a little soft. In a heartbeat, he was spreading your ass so he could watch his warm cum trickle from your hole.

And just like that, he was hard again.

You watched with dazed eyes as his dick twitched, ready to go again. Satoru grinned at you, tilting his head as he said, “I’d eat my cum out of you right fuckin’ now, but I need to feel you around me one more time.” He scooped you up, maneuvering so he was laying back and you were in his lap again. “For every year you are,” he murmured, his finger trailing down your spine, “Is every round we go. Every position we swap. I can keep up… Can you?”

You knew you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t compete with his stamina. But you nodded your head yes, and lifted your hips anyways as a mix of both of your cum slid down your thigh. “Mhm, baby,” he laughed a little, holding your hips as he guided you. “You can keep up? I’ll have you fucked dumb by round five. Maybe even this round. Hopefully ya last, birthday girl.”

Before you could even respond to his bravado, he pulled you down, spearing you on his length. You let out a squeal, as you clutched his arms. You were still sensitive, and you made sure to whine it loudly. His hands moved to grip your ass, pulling you up and dropping you back down. His tip bumped your cervix s he did so, and you mewled, pressing your face into his chest.

“Nuh uh, sugar, you can last right?” He taunted, even though his breath was shaky. “Ride me. Right now.” He wasted no time with sliding in a joke, “You ride horses so well, I’m sure you can ride mine.”

You bit your lip as you planted your feet into the couch, using your lower body strength to pull your body up. You began to bounce down on him feverishly, immediately setting a fast pace for yourself. Satoru hit all the spots you needed, and you felt your fogged brain saying that you should’ve fucked him much longer ago.

Satoru cupped your ass as you rode him, stuttered breaths leaving him. “Oh, s-shit, baby, yer goin’ so fast—!” He gasped, your pussy clamping down on him like no other. You kept going, ignoring him, as if you were using him. You had something to prove. You purposefully clenched harder around him, intent on making him cum first, to prove he was the one who couldn’t last.

Satoru, unfortunately, quickly picked up on what you were doing. His hands gripped your hips once more as he huffed, “Sweet thing’s got a vendetta. Mm, fine. I’ll bite.” His heavy lidded lapis eyes peered at you as he began to thrust upwards to meet your bounces, tip jamming against your g-spot. The only noises that left your mouth were squeals, the little bit of control you had dissipating.

Satoru quickly regained his control as he fucked up into you, watching as your tits bounced and your eyes rolled back. Your sweat covered bodies merged, and his eyes were fixed on the way his dick slid in and out of you, and the cum coating his length. The noise of him pounding into you seemed to be amplified. For another time, you felt yourself reaching a climax, stomach tightening as your jaw went slack. It was coming so fast, you couldn’t even alert Satoru.

You let out strained moans of pleasure as he continued to fuck into your sensitive pussy, bringing you to the peak of ecstasy for the fourth time. The throbbing sensation in your clit, though slightly painful, only added to the intense pleasure coursing through your body. Each orgasmic wave that washed over you was a testament to the overwhelming pleasure you were experiencing.

Finally spent, you dropped against him, whimpering pathetically as he continued to use your body like a cocksleeve. Tears filled your eyes as he pushed past your sensitivity, fucking into you like a menace. You knew he had stamina, but God, this was insanity. His hand wrapped around your neck loosely, tilting your head up to look at him.

The sight Satoru laid his eyes on was heavenly. Your hair was mussed, starting to sweat out; your makeup was becoming messy from the tears beginning to slide down your face. Your lip combo was long gone, though there were remnants on both his lips and yours. The sight of your tears only fueled him, as he kissed them away. “Thank you for letting me have your body like this, pretty. Pussy was made for me. Just divine, you’re jus’ divine.. Gonna marry you and then ‘m gonna fuck you so much that your body wouldn’t be able to escape pregnancy— You want my babies, don’t you? Say yes, tell me you want me as much as I want you…” Satoru was very obviously close, the trembling and the rambles were a tell tale sign.

You found yourself mindlessly nodding to everything he said, and it wasn’t long before he was shooting another load deep into you. You thought he was done, before he was grabbing your chubby thighs, hoisting your legs up, and locking your body into a full nelson position.

As he drilled his long cock into you once more, it was simply too much for you. You gave in, mind going blank as he slammed into you, filling you to the hilt. Your eyes were glazed over, tears still falling. Your mouth hung open as overstimulated whimpers left your lips. You came a fifth time, but you were so far gone, you didn’t even notice.

“L-Look at you,” Satoru said, his lips pressing against your shoulder, “Too much for you, yeah? Look so pretty like this, sweet girl. Fuck, fuck, fuck, ‘m cummin’ too quick—!” Satoru was overstimulated himself, but that didn’t stop him. As he came a third time, the both of your fluids slathered all over his dick as he dropped you from the nelson, and flipped you onto your hands and knees.

“Need more of you,” he rasped, spreading your ass as he messily spread his cum around your pussy and thighs, before stuffing you full once more. He pressed kisses into your spine, as he gripped your ass, fucking you from behind.

The sex was depraved, as Satoru fucked you like a man starved. You were too far gone, drooling into the couch as he fucked you like you both were dying tomorrow. But, it wasn’t long before he was finally slowing down, heavy balls squeezing as he began to have dry orgasms.

Finally, he pulled out, scooping your barely there, sex-addled body up and carrying you to his bed. He dropped down into bed, you on top of him as he threw the blankets over the two of you.

He pressed kisses to your face, and then your lips, as he whispered, “Even if we die tonight, then I’ll die yours, and you’ll die mine.” Somehow you managed to reciprocate, as exhaustion slowly claimed you. “So then, I’ll die here under you; every night, all night.”

The last thing you heard before you passed out, were Satoru’s whispered love confessions, and promises for the future.

Your honeymoon phase of the relationship seemed to be forever, although things in town got harder. People were more openly racist; vandalizing your home, your father’s grave, and your mother managed to somehow overwork herself to death. You were now alone, in an empty house, and with an empty heart. Save for Satoru.

Where darkness lingered in the corners of your life, he was the light that banished all of it. To escape, he often drove you to Nebraska, far enough but still close. The two of you found an abandoned house on the outskirts of the state. A single two-floor house. You loved it utterly.

Satoru was a bit of a criminal, stealing a bobby pin from your hair and picking the lock. Managing to get into the house, so you could see the interior. It wasn’t like anyone was there to care. When you were there, the two of you cleaned up the house, and pretended like it was your own place. It was the place where you found each other on a dirty mattress on the second floor.

Months passed. Then a year. Satoru turned twenty, then so did you. Like your last birthday, it was spent in love, and in a sex-crazed haze. You two pave your own road, feet weathering the trail to the house in Nebraska, leaving your mark. It’s in the spring, when you two are at the house, and Satoru gets on one knee, pulling out a golden ring with a bright diamond.

“When I came home after graduation, I told my mama I was gon’ marry you,” he said matter of factually, “She asked me if you knew that. I told her no, but you would eventually. So now, I’m askin’ you if you’ll bless me by being my wife.”

You screamed yes so loud, the two of you were sure you alerted others of your presence.

Your engagement angered the town. Although Satoru was a person of color too, they were sure he looked best with a white girl. It got to the point where they got violent with you. Calling you slurs, and being so racist, you became afraid to leave Satoru’s side.

But, it was okay — because you two stuck together, always.

You prepared for your wedding as best as you could in your anxious state. Satoru’s mother even bought you a wedding dress — from one of your favorite brands, Vivienne Westwood. Vivienne made the most beautiful wedding dresses.

However, your hometown was getting overwhelming. You couldn’t help but look over your shoulder at any given moment. Satoru knew it was time to go.

He told his mother that he had to get you out of here — there was nothing but pain for you here. He couldn’t let you live like this. She understood, more than anything. She handed Satoru a wad of cash, telling him to visit soon.

He bought the house in Nebraska. How he found the owner, you never found out. But he bought that fucking house, and you two packed your bags and you never fucking looked back.

Nebraska was nice. You didn’t go into town often because of your anxiety, but Satoru assured you it was fine. You loved your home. You loved your future husband. You were soothed, and nothing could ruin it.

Until one day, Satoru didn’t come home from visiting his mother. You opted out that time, feeling a bit sick, and not up for the long drive. You got the call from his mother. You barely remembered anything but the words, ‘Shooting. Hospital. Coma.’ And you were catching the bus to Alabama.

You never wanted to return home, but you had to. You didn’t let them turn you away or shame you. You joined his mother in the hospital. And soon after you got there, after you held his hand, and sobbed his name, and kissed his face, and as if he was waiting for you, Satoru Gojo passed away.

The story was that Satoru got into an altercation with a group of men who said some horrible things about you. Even when they threatened him with a gun, he didn’t back down. He was always so protective when it came to you, and it killed him. And now, you were the reason that he won’t come home.

The birthday wish you made didn’t come true. Because the love of your life was gone, and you were so alone.

You stayed for his funeral. Open casket. Unlike everyone else, you didn’t wear black. You wore your wedding dress, and a veil. You were a widow, even though you hadn’t even gotten married yet. You never would. His mother held you by the waist, crying silently as she guided you to his casket. And as you leaned down to press a final kiss to his dead cold lips, nobody said a thing to you.

You disappeared soon after, with gentle words to his mother.

You retreated to your house in Nebraska, where you needed him. Months pass, and you need him still. You rot away in that house, plagued by memories. His scent still lingers on his untouched clothes, and sometimes you open the drawers to smell.

His mama calls sometimes, to see if you’re doing well. You lie to her and say that you’re doing fine. When really you’d kill yourself to hold him one more time.

You manage to force yourself to go to town, to buy things. You cry every day, and the bottles make it worse — because he was the only person you weren’t scared to tell you hurt.

And you feel so alone. You feel so alone out here. You feel so alone without him. You’re so alone out here, and you miss him more than anything. Every day, waking up without him warming you, breathing air that he does not share, it breaks you piece by piece. You feel so alone.

More months pass and you turn twenty-one alone. And you realize you can’t continue life like this.

You feel so alone.

On your twenty-first birthday, you put on your wedding dress, the one you never got to walk down the aisle in. You pick up the pills, sobbing as you whimper, “I’m so alone out here without you, baby.” You down the pills.

You remember all of this as you die, life flashing before your eyes. You’re curled up in your bed, now clutching one of his shirts to your chest. It’s like you fall asleep, despite the toxicity causing your body to fail. You finally die.

You wake up in a garden of flowers. Lillies of the valley, to be exact. You look around wildly. Cloudless blue sky, and flowers to be seen for days. You’re in your wedding dress. Is this what the afterlife is like? An endless, calming flower field? A breeze ruffles you. You begin to walk. Time doesn’t seem to pass here, because you can’t tell if it’s been seconds or days.

You know you’re dead, but why are you here?

“Y/N?”

You freeze. You know that voice. Tears fill your eyes, and you turn slowly. There he is. That ruffled white hair, bright blue eyes staring into you. You see the tears that well in his eyes, mirroring yours. “What are you doing here?” He cries, and he’s rushing to you, and he’s gathering you in his arms, cupping your face. You’re shaking your head and sobbing, because it’s him, it’s him and he’s here and you can hold him again.

“What’re you doing here, dream girl?” He sobs and he’s pressing his lips to yours, kissing you as if you’ll fade away. The kiss is salty as you two hold on to each other, tears mingling. When the two of you finally break away, he’s still holding your face, as you sob out, “I was so alone without you, Satoru! I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t live without you!”

He sobs harder and holds you against his chest, which is bloodied. “You killed yourself?” You nod ashamed, but he didn’t yell at you, or judge you. He never, ever has. He holds you, pressing kisses into your face, your hair. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t want to leave you — I held on, I held on until you came, and I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to survive,” he cried into your hair, “Leaving you hurt so much. It hurt more than getting shot did. We were supposed to have so much time. We were supposed to get married and have babies and die together when we old a-and, we didn’t.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you whimper back, as he squeezes you tight, tighter than he ever has. If you were alive, you’d be struggling to breathe. “But I wish you would’ve let it go. Let it go and came home to me.”

Satoru doesn’t respond, instead he’s pulling away to kiss you again. “I wish I did too. I would’ve came back to our house in Nebraska, where the world was empty, save you and I. But at least we’re here. I don’t know where it is, but this is where I’ve been. Waiting for you to come. I just want expecting it so soon.” He sniffles, obviously sad.

“I had nothing left for me,” you whispered, as the two of you lace your fingers together, “I needed you still. I… I was horrible.”

“I visited you in your sleep a lot,” Satoru admitted, as the two of you began to walk. “It was the only time I could. I watched you sleep, all the time. You slept with my shirts. It made me feel good.”

You lean against him, he’s warm and he smells just as though you remember. You two walk, for a while, talking about the future you deserved.

Until you reach a house.

A house identical to your house in Nebraska.

“Well, I’ll be,” Satoru whispered, obviously shocked, turning to look at you. Tears were falling down your cheeks as you smiled, whispering, “Guess you’re stuck with me, even in death.”

“Wouldn’t wanna be stuck anywhere else,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. He pulled a bobby pin out of your hair, and just like old times, Satoru picked the lock to the door.

You two stuck together; in life and death, and you still call home that house in Nebraska.

[ghostaholics]

I’m laughing so hard with the enemies with benefits trope, it’s the only thing keeping me sane right now.What if she gets badly hurt during a mission, and ends up unconscious for days, and Ghost stays by her side waiting for her to wake up and when she does, instead of a heartwarming conversation they instantly start to insult each other

The amount of time it took for them to stabilize her had been... long.

Too long.

So long, in fact that they'd had to resuscitate her twice during transport and somewhere in between their (inadequate, by his standards) attempts at life-saving measures and him taking over compressions (he'd bullied his way onto the carrier, of course, much to the displeasure of the rest of the medical flight personnel and was the only one willing to continue even after they'd seriously considered calling the time of death), there was a brief moment where he'd really thought she wasn't going to make it. And for exactly 34 minutes, he'd kept thinking to himself what a goddamn shame it'd be to lose her (not for himself, but for the 1-4-1, the good of the team, obviously). Except then they'd found her pulse again, faint and barely hanging on just under skin, albeit still there – thank-fucking-Jesus – and Simon had finally allowed himself to let out a sigh of breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding the entire time.

It's been about 72 hours since she was initially transferred to the trauma center by helo (or 71 hours and 53 minutes if he wants to get really technical, not that he’s keeping track). This surly, hulking beast of a man managed to fold himself into that tiny hospital chair – has a damn crick in his neck now, stiffness in his muscles from that pathetic excuse of a recliner. And he's had to camp out as a sniper for lengthy intervals before, slept on the ground or up against a fucking tree depending on the situation without complaint, so this should be any different, but he's had to shift positions frequently just to take the edge off because it's bothering him that much; Christ, the things he does for her.

And after waiting all this damn time, he's finally rewarded with some evidence of actual consciousness – the too-thin, threadbare hospital sheets stirring with movement out of the corner of his eye. Simon rises from his seat, completely neglecting his lunch (hadn't even really been able to eat properly until recently, because his appetite was pretty much shite after the whole cardiac arrest thing) and strides over to check on whether or not she's waking up.

She blinks, groggily, eyes adjusting to her surroundings and trying to place where exactly she is before a shadow passes over her line of vision and blocks the annoying fluorescent lights. It’s – oh.

Simon's face comes into view, peering down at her with an expression that she doesn’t quite recognize. This one’s new; she doesn’t have a name for it, but if she were to hazard a guess, it seems an awful lot like concern – or at least his version of whatever that may be. She watches him quietly. Her gaze isn’t as disoriented anymore and she tracks his hand, the way it comes up to cup her jaw, warm palm sliding over her skin in an invitation to lean into his touch.

“Really glad you woke up,” he murmurs, low but still loud enough to be heard over the rhythmic beeping of the bedside monitor. And Simon, being Simon, doesn't forget to add, “There's so many reports I've been waiting for you to sign off on.”

She closes her eyes with a small smile gracing her lips. Her voice is rough from disuse, but the sarcasm behind it is a familiar sound. “Wish I'd been out for longer. Was nice not having you nag my ear off – best damn sleep I've gotten in ages, y'know.”

[hazbin-a-helluvamagines]

Hey, can you do Emily, Charlie, and Verosika mayday x male!reader who was abused to death by his step father (reader is 20), reader is traumatized and depressed and is scared of men’s?

"Androphobia" ; Charlie Morningstar, Emily, Verosika Mayday

She feels utterly horrible hearing about the way you died! She has such a loving relationship with her dad, at least now, she hates the thought of someone going through something like that from someone who was meant to protect and care for them!

She's one of the most understanding of depression and trauma, but kind of a pushover about it, actually?

She'll try and reacclimate you to men starting with Angel, someone fairly androgynous, and Lucifer, seeing how generally polite and timid Luci usually is.

But she makes sure to always tell you that she'll be patient!

"Don't worry, S/O, if you're not okay yet! Sometimes, it's okay not to be okay... You have to feel it to let it run its course."

She'll let you hide behind her if you're ever frightened of the men around, too. After all, who would mess with the Princess of Hell's boyfriend?

She also puts this really intricate and overexplained sign on the door that tells people: "If you're a male or masc-presenting, please do not enter this room because this resident has trauma".

She'll take it down if you ask, though.

Like Charlie, Emily is utterly horrified. But unlike Charlie, she's also disgusted. Disgusted that someone you were meant to depend on could treat you like that!

She's quick to, if that person is deceased, either find them and punish them personally, or have Sera cast them down to Hell.

Yet again, super understanding of trauma and everything! Will have an entire discussion with you over boundaries, discomforts and triggers, things that make you feel comfortable after you've been triggered, etc.!

And she won't try to "make" you heal, she understands that these things take time, and with enough time, you'll start to heal all on your own...

She'll also use her wings to shield you from any men who may approach, but still be polite to the person if they weren't trying to be malicious.

"Hiya! Oh, my boyfriend? Don't mind him, he's just a little frightened. And speaking of which, I'd appreciate if you'd be able to turn around and maybe come back later when he isn't around so you don't scare him more! Please and thank you."

Speaking of, she'll also let you mess with her wings whenever you're getting anxious, trying to keep you distracted.

She's also going to politely tell anyone who makes you uncomfortable to back off, and won't honestly get more angry unless they refuse to back off. She hates anyone making someone uncomfortable, but especially you.

And she's also probably the most patient person in the world.

"Don't worry, S/O! Take all the time you need. Eden wasn't built in a day, you know? And I'll be here every step of the way. You can count on that."

Marry her.

She is... an utter bitch to literally everyone who makes you even the smallest amount of uncomfortable, even unintentionally.

"Excuse me? Who said you were wanted here? Can't you see there's someone infinitely more important to spend time with?"

I'd honestly be surprised if she doesn't make someone cry doing that.

She'll also make sure to give you special seats with either all-women, or by yourself at all of her events and concerts, just so she doesn't risk you having a panic attack while she isn't there to help you.

She'll try to acclimate you with the men of her crew, but aside from that, she doesn't really mind if you want to get along with other men or not.

She's also one who's surprisingly attentive to depression, always making sure you take your meds if you need them, managing you with a proper diet, and trying to help you sleep at times.

Whenever you have to go anywhere in public, she'll either go with you or have Coco, Milky, Apple, or Kiki go with you.

Like Emily, she'll shield you with her wings if she sees a man approach when she's out with you, that way you don't have to interact with them.

And if they comment on it?

"Why's your boyfriend hiding behind his bitch?"

"Why are you still a virgin living in your mom's basement at forty-five?"

Yeah...

Well, at least she cares. :')

[mywingsareonwheels]

This may be a controversial opinion on the "judge both others and yourself as harshly as possible" site, but:- extending compassion to yourself when you've hurt someone else is a pragmatic, good and moral thing to do.

because you don't stop deserving compassion just because you've fucked up, that's just not how it works

because literally everybody fucks up sometimes *including the person you've just hurt*, it is alas a side-effect of being a human being

because extending compassion is a skill that takes practise, and getting good at it when it's difficult is a worthy aim, and it'll help you also have compassion for others when *they* are fucking up (which is also a good thing, in case that need saying...)

because while it's entirely possible to have compassion for others but not yourself, it's way way easier to do both

because compassion isn't the same as making excuses, and it is entirely, *entirely* possible to have compassion for yourself and still seeing what you did wrong and being sorry that you did and caring deeply about the effect it had on the other person

because beating yourself up makes you much, much likely to overreact, and to make your negative feelings about yourself the problem of the person you've just hurt (oh, ask me how I know...)

because unless the other person is lost in their angry and hurt feelings (which isn't something you should encourage however badly you fucked up), it's vanishingly unlikely they'll benefit in any way from you suffering

because if you have any kind of trauma history around being disproportionately punished for any wrongdoing, that's a thing you deserve to heal from and extending compassion to yourself at times like this is an excellent step forward

because you don't deserve to make yourself suffer disproportionately now

because once you're at ease with yourself and no longer scared of out-of-control retribution, you can centre the feelings of the person you've hurt and extend whopping amounts of compassion towards them, and focus on whatever it is they need

and once you've done that, again, the more at ease with yourself you are, the easier it's going to be for you to later check in with what went wrong and work at whatever you need to work on to make you less likely to make that mistake again.

TDLR: self-compassion when you've hurt someone else is good because a) you always deserve to give yourself compassion even when you've done something wrong, b) it'll make it much easier for you to handle things well and be really considerate and compassionate and truly apologetic (as opposed to self-hating) towards the person you've just hurt, and then c) it'll also make it much easier for you to work towards doing better.

It's win/win. Remember: suffering is not intrinsically virtuous. Doing right by yourself and others is. <3

[aloy-sobek]

It's always worrisome to me seeing how fandom interacts with media when placing mental health and illness on it.

The word Narcissist is used when you mean asshole or annoying. To write a narcissistic character you need purposeful steps into that direction with purposeful choices.

To say a character has narcissistic traits, well we aren't with these character nearly long enough to truly identify that.

Gale gets this a lot. He also gets Autistic coded and I think that is something that speaks volumes. Gale is incredibly compassionate, is all about doing the right thing, and speaks his mind about it.

However in that vain of thought he is pragmatic, boldly spoken and blunt. He can be awkward, kinda an ass and sometimes insensitive. Something a lot of autistic people relate too is this dichotomy. And it's interesting that though he is overall a very kind person, his direct interaction earn him this title, something many Autistic people have also heard.

Gale isn't my favorite character, far from it, but he is written well. Complex, not perfect, human.

Meanwhile there is Astarion. I adore Astarion, but often am repulsed by how people view him and how people assign mental illness to him. No doubt he has been through Trauma and no doubt it is complex, and as a CPtsd trauma surviver there is so much about him related to. His journey to healing is hard faught for him, I mean, 200 years of abuse is an extreme amount to live through. He's suspicious, plotting, assumes he needs power to stay safe. And Safe IS what he wants. We with CPTSD, our tragedy is how we never feel safe.

However if Astarion Ascends that IS a Narcissist path. As NPD is BORN from Trauma. Even after defeating his abuser in that moment Astarion didn't feel safe. He was activated the entire time. The panic, fear, anxiety, that goes through you when you're just in the room with your abuser. People can say it's over, but the body keeps score and Astarion has it written in his flesh. He makes excuses that lack empathy (I didn't even know they were alive until now). It centers around him and his fear and his desire to feel safe and survive.

So if he Ascends he crosses that boundary. People aren't born narcissist, they are made, and through his ascension Astarion becomes one. The world now revolves around him. He took what he needed to survive. That's what he learned he needed to do. To live, to be safe, you have to take what you need and to hell with anyone else because after all that's exactly what everyone else is doing.

Yet there are people who see that as his happy ending. Saying he becomes a Narcissist might earn a good hate comment or two but I think it's worth saying because people view those with NPD as being born these heartless monsters, not survivors of their own horrors.

And as a survivor of a narcissistic mother I will say no their trauma does not excuse their bad behavior or them hurting you. But there is a reason it's called the abuse CYCLE.

Astarion story is about continuing it or breaking it.

And don't get me wrong, playing Ascended Astarion doesn't make you a bad person. It's good story telling. But it's a tragedy. But it's not without hope.

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Growing Pains Part 5

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~6.6k

Summary: Little Nat is almost 13 and school’s a bitch. Retired mob boss turned stay-at-home mom Wanda has to figure out how to deal with bullies at her daughter’s school. 

A/N: Credit to @rianncreates for this fic idea.

Warnings: Fluff, teen angst, injury, reference to previous injury/trauma, bullies, and pranks

You’re in an appointment when Wanda calls you so she leaves you a voicemail that tells you to call her. Your watch shows the missed call, but you’re too preoccupied with the cute family of rats to notice until about 20 minutes later. By then it’s three missed calls and as soon as you’re out of the room you leave your assistant to finish up as you rush upstairs. 

Wanda had thought about it for a while after getting off the phone with the principal, and she was suspecting that Natalya was acting out for a reason. She was a pre-teen and although this type of behavior could be common for most, she knew it wasn’t her daughter. The brunette was more concerned with the rules than either of her parents, hell her entire family. She used to cry when she was younger because she thought she broke the rules, and although she’d improved, she still felt massive amounts of anxiety at the idea of doing anything that could get her in trouble. 

Wanda wondered why her daughter had pulled this seemingly random prank. She didn’t know who her daughter had targeted, but the principal had indicated that her parents would be present as well, and that alone made her hope that you’d be free. She didn’t like the idea of facing off parents alone, but she supposes she may not have a choice. When you answer the phone, she’s quick to get to the point because she’s sure you’re busy. 

“Wands? What’s wrong?” 

Wanda sighs and you can’t help but feel a little anxious about what she has to say. You wonder what could have happened since you last saw her, but you’re not even close to guessing it right when Wanda speaks up. 

“Natalya’s principal called. Apparently, our daughter played a prank on a girl, and she’d like all of us to come by at the end of the day for a meeting.” 

You’re as shocked as Wanda had been because despite being a little mischievous at home, you never would have guessed that Nat would do something like this at school. She was annoyingly inflexible when it came to the rules, and you can’t help but wonder who made your daughter do this, and why. Instead of asking this because you figure Wanda would have told you if she knew, you ask something else. 

“Who is ‘all of us'?” 

When Wanda tells you that both of you and the girl’s parents should be present, you can’t help but grimace at the idea. You haven’t had to do something like this before with Nat and you were definitely ill-prepared. You always would have thought that you’d be meeting with another teacher to discuss your daughter’s forgetfulness, not something like this. 

“Okay. That sounds…fun. I will be there. Hopefully we can figure out what happened.” 

Natalya was beginning to lose her resolve by the time the last period started, and she could barely pay attention as she considered the consequences of her decision. She could have done something else, but this was the only way she and Taylor could think of to get the administration’s attention on her feud with Stacy without Nat directly going to them. Well she ran right to her office, but this prank was a good excuse to get the necessary people in the room to try and get Stacy in trouble for everything she’s done. 

Except things hadn’t worked out quite as planned. She’d only been able to say the bare minimum before she was told that the rest would wait until after school. When she’d be back here with both her and Stacy’s parents. The idea of having to tell her moms and Stacy’s parents at the same time was freaking her out, and by the time the last bell rang she was sweating. She raced out of the classroom to find her friends before they went off to practice, and before she had to go to this meeting. 

She sees Alyssa first and she nearly runs into her locker as she opens it right in front of her. 

“This is going to be so bad.” 

Alyssa jumps in surprise at her appearance, but she quickly shakes her head before she smiles kindly at her strung out friend. This wasn’t exactly the plan, but the truth would come out soon and she was sure that someone was going to do something about it. If not the principal or Stacy’s parents, she knew damn well that Nat’s moms wouldn’t just let it go. She could certainly see Mrs. Maximoff plotting revenge for her daughter. 

“It will be alright, Nat. Just tell the truth and don’t let Stacy get to you.” 

“Yeah, and don’t let her mess with you, or we’ll mess her up.” 

Nat turns at the sound of Taylor’s voice a she feels her anxiety increase at the sight of her friend’s gym bag reminding her that she’s going to be late if not missing practice today. She tries to believe what her friends say. She’ll be able to tell the truth about Stacy, and she’ll be killing two birds with one stone since her parents were there. She tries not to think about how mad her moms might be about the whole thing. She’s not sure if they’ll be angrier about Stacy’s behavior, or her refusal to tell them. She’s afraid it’s going to be the former. 

“Okay, okay. You’re right. I’ll probably not be at practice today. Can you tell coach?” 

They just nod before figuring they’ll say she’s sick. They have a game tomorrow and Nat may not be able to play if she doesn’t come to practice today, but they’ll just have to see. They hug her and offer to walk her to the office so she doesn’t have to go alone, and Nat jumps on the opportunity. 

You can’t help but be a little flustered by the time you arrive at school. You see a flood of students leaving and you realize you’ve missed the last bell. It took you longer to get away from work than you thought it would, and you forgot that you’d have to take Boone with you unless you wanted to drive back to work. You contemplated letting him roam around but you were worried he’d be bothered so you’d decided to leave him in the car with the AC on. This only lasted for a moment because as soon as you left, he started to howl and it was definitely noticeable. For this reason, you decided to throw on his service animal vest and let him follow you around. You told him to wait outside of the cafeteria as you walked through the doors and toward the front office. You spot your wife standing next to Natalya who’s looking incredibly tense. 

“Hey detka.” 

You accept a kiss on the cheek before you turn to your daughter to see she’s looking even more unsettled than you expected. You figure she’s worried about getting in trouble, but you’ll save any scolding until you hear about what happened. 

“Hey, there, so this is new.” 

Wanda rolls her eyes and Nat shoots you a confused look before looking back toward where you came. You realize that Boone is staring at you and you shoot him a look before pointing back toward where you’d left him. 

“Boone’s here?” 

You nod despite it being obvious and you claim that you came straight from work which makes Nat cringe a little. She knows you would have been at work for at least two more hours, and she’s not sure if you’re going back after this. She feels guilty for disturbing both of her parents’ days, but she’s hoping this is worth it. 

Nat opens her mouth to apologize but she’s cut off as the principal’s door opens and she steps outside right as Stacy arrives with her parents. You’re a little surprised by her appearance, and you don’t miss Nat smile slightly at the sight of the blonde still very glittery. 

“Mrs. Maximoff, Dr. Y/L/N, thank you for coming. Let’s get started shall we.” 

Nat and Stacy are sitting beside each other against one wall, while all of the parents are sitting directly in front of Ms. Lewis. It seems like an interesting set up until you realize that the kids are going to be the ones doing most of the talking. You realize quickly that Natalya is responsible for the blonde, Stacy’s appearance, and you can’t help but be a little surprised by this. 

“So girls, I know we touched on it earlier, but can you tell everyone how this all started?” 

Nat considers trying to speak up but she knows that Stacy’s going to start because she always needs to go first. She resists the urge to roll her eyes as she listens to her bitch about her dumb prank again. 

“Natalya broke into my locker and put a glitter bomb in there!” 

You have to stop yourself from cackling at the ridiculousness of this statement while Wanda tries hard not to frown. Wanda’s always been the tougher parent, but you also just took a little longer to pass judgement. Your wife’s temper hadn’t cooled at all since she left her job, and it was usually your job to remind her to take a breather or not go postal about something relatively minor. You still weren’t sure where this fell considering your limited knowledge. You watch as your daughter sighs before scowling at Stacy with a barely restrained eye roll. You’ve seen it enough to know, and you can tell by your wife’s deepening frown that she can too. 

“That’s not where it started. This started when you decided to torment me for no reason months ago.” 

There’s silence for a few seconds as Stacy just shakes her head and crosses her arms as she stares at her feet in order to avoid the gazes of everyone in the room. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Nat’s getting fed up with the blonde and she practically throws her arm out in front of her as she asks her a rhetorical question. 

“So you don’t remember shoving me and causing me to burn myself?” 

Your eyes widen as they go to the mostly healed burn on your daughter’s hand. She’d told both you and Wanda that it had been an accident, and you’d believed her. You’re not sure why she would lie, but you have a feeling that Nat’s about to get to it. Wanda sits up straighter and her eyes flicker to the principal who speaks up before Stacy can. 

“Ms. Jenkins, is that true?” 

Stacy just shrugs as she continues to avoid eye contact, but she makes sure to glare at Nat’s arm as she lowers in back into her lap. 

“No. I’m sure she just tripped. She’s a klutz and everybody knows it.” 

Wanda decides that she does not like this girl. She’s rude and more importantly she hurt her baby, and she’s going to suffer dearly for it. She’s about to speak up, but the only man in the room beats her to it as he addresses his daughter with a stern look. 

“Anastasia, tell the truth. Have you been harassing Natalya?” 

The use of her full name has a similar effect to when you or Wanda use Nat’s in a certain tone and the teen winces before she unconvincingly shakes her head. Realizing they’re not getting anywhere; Wanda decides to address her daughter. If Stacy’s not going to tell them anything, she can only hope Natalya will.

“Natalya. How long has this been going on?”

Nat only considers not answering for a few seconds before she catches her mom’s gaze and she realizes she really has no choice. She bites her lip before she looks to her moms and speaks in a quiet voice.

“A couple months after the school year started.” 

You feel your heart sink when Nat says this because that was nearly 5 months ago. You can’t stop yourself from glowering at Stacy who’s now looking at the ceiling and pretending not to listen. You are speaking up before you can stop yourself, but no one objects to your question. 

“And your burn…was that the first time you were hurt?” 

Nat looks to her hand and runs a finger over the mostly healed pink skin with a frown. It had hurt a lot but luckily it had been small and her mom did a good job of taking care of it so it healed well. She shakes her head before mentioning that she’d been shoved and tripped a few times. When Stacy doesn’t deny it, everyone’s decided that she’s guilty. 

“I mean she’s shoved and tripped me a couple of times, but mostly she just makes fun of me for being a loner.” 

Wanda hates to hear this because it confirms her suspicion that Natalya had been trying to tell her something last week. She’d been trying to tell her about what she’d been dealing with at school. She was irrationally angry about this to overcompensate for the fact she’d been so oblivious. She had told her daughter that being a loner wasn’t a bad thing, but here someone was giving her grief about it. She was hurting her daughter because she was different. That made Wanda see red and she’s about to say something she shouldn’t when Stacy grumbles under her breath. 

“God you’re such a wuss.” 

This time Stacy’s mom speaks up and she looks more embarrassed than upset with her daughter, but you don’t have the capacity to care about this right now. 

“Alright, that’s enough, young lady.” 

Ms. Lewis decides to take it from here because she’s heard enough to make a decision. She’s going to try to give Nat a reprieve for a while. 

“Alright, I’ve heard enough. Ms. Jenkins you’re suspended for three days while we investigate Natalya’s claims. Thank you for coming Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins. We’ll touch base again next week.” 

Wanda is about to speak up but as the trio stand up, and Stacy practically storms out she realizes that they weren’t dismissed. She wants to know what an investigation entails, and why she’s not just taking Natalya’s word for it. You understand the need to do a little digging, but you wish that Ms. Lewis could understand that your daughter wasn’t lying. 

After the family is gone, Nat releases a deep breath as she slouches in her chair. You frown and you consider asking Nat to move next to Wanda, but the principal is speaking up again before you have a chance. You’re not sure if you’re more discouraged or grateful for what she says. 

“It’s standard to do some digging and make sure that someone can corroborate Natalya’s story, or at the very least not refute it. For the record, I believe you, Stacy’s always been a problem, but her parents have a lot of pull here. I’ll try my best to keep her out of school for as long as possible.” 

Nat somehow looks more defeated by this because she knows that keeping Stacy away for 3 days will be the extent of it. Her parents have donated close to $300k since Stacy started here, and they would probably just throw more money to keep their daughter from being disciplined further. The thought was discouraging and you and Wanda feel the same way, but they hadn’t gone to the trouble of setting all of this up in hopes of getting Stacy truly reprimanded, or at worst expelled. 

“Okay, thank you.”

Nat says this despite not really knowing what she’s thanking the older woman for, and she misses the smile she gets in return before they’re all dismissed. You stand up first and you reach out for your daughter to lead her out after thanking Ms. Lewis for her time. Wanda does the same, but she’s a little more upset by the outcome of this meeting. She follows you and Natalya out before checking her phone and realizing that meeting was less than 30 minutes. She wonders what they should do next, but you beat her to it as you look to Nat before glancing at your wife. 

“Little Nat, how about you head to practice, and we can talk about this more at home?” 

Nat likes this idea because she wants some time to process it all and figure out what she’s going to do next, but she looks to her other mom for approval. She seems more upset and she usually likes to get difficult discussions like this done sooner rather than later. 

Wanda sighs as they arrive outside and Boone’s quick to jump up and greet them. He goes for Natalya first, and the brunette smiles as she reaches out to pet him with a sigh. She mutters a greeting before kissing his head and scratching his ears. 

“Hi buddy.” 

Wanda looks to you and you watch her reach a decision fairly quickly. She wants to talk to Natalya about this more, but she needs some time to think. She’ll go home and think on this as she makes dinner, and then she’ll come back to pick Nat up. 

“That’s a good idea, especially since you have a game tomorrow. I’ll come back to pick you up, okay, milaya?” 

The term makes Nat look to her mom immediately, and she hesitates for only a second before she nods and risks a hug. Wanda accepts it quickly and she holds her daughter tightly as she lets her grief at the situation overwhelm her for a moment before pulling away. They’ll figure this out. Even if they can’t get the school’s support, she’ll figure out how to make this right. 

“Okay, Mama. See you soon.” 

After receiving your hug, you and Wanda watch Nat walk in the other direction toward practice. If you weren’t so distracted by your thoughts, you’d offer to drive her, but she’s already well on her way by the time the thought occurs to you. You and Wanda walk to your cars with Boone on your heels, and you sigh before opening the back door for Boone. You help him jump up before turning to your wife with a frown. You can tell she’s equally disappointed by how everything just went and you both need some time to think it over. You’re going to try and work out some things on the ride home, but you’re sure it will take longer than that. 

“Are you going back to work?” 

Wanda watches as you shake your head before reaching out to pull her into a hug. You can tell she’s a little dazed and you don’t want her driving while she’s so distracted. 

“No, I’ll meet you at home, and we’ll talk there. We’ll figure this out, okay?” 

Wanda sighs before she shakes her head and looks back over to where Nat disappeared. She holds you tighter before letting you go and wiping her eyes. She hates that her baby has been dealing with that little brat for so long. She thinks back to the conversation she’d had with you recently and despite what you’d said, she feels like she’s let Natalya down. 

“I just hate that she’s dealt with this alone for so long.” 

You frown as you think about this and you agree with Wanda’s sentiment. At least the part about hating that Nat hadn’t been able to come to them about it. This thought reminds you of dinner last week and how Yelena and Pietro had talked to your daughter at some point. Apparently they’d given her advice. This makes you realize that she probably talked to them about this, and you try not to be upset by this. You shake your head before starting your car so Boone can sit in the AC after you shut the door. You take Wanda’s hand and lead her to her car which is only a couple of spots away.

“I hate it too, Wands, but we’ll talk to her after practice and we’ll come up with a plan.” 

Wanda just nods wordlessly as she opens her car and gets in. She lowers the window and looks over to you with a small smile. She’s glad that you were here with her and she decides to believe you for now. She kisses your hand before starting the car with a faraway look. 

“Okay, detka. I’ll see you soon?”

You smile at your wife before heading back to your car to follow her. You didn’t have a lot of faith that the principal would be able to do much about Stacy. You decided to figure out all you could about the kid and her parents to see why things had been able to go this far without any intervention. Hopefully they would have more answers after talking to Nat, but for now they were just going to have to wait.

Nat’s scowling by the time she arrives at the softball field. She’s so disappointed by how poorly that meeting had gone. She’d told everyone what happened, but Stacy had only gotten suspended for three days. As of now, there was nothing stopping her from coming back to school and making her life a living hell. She sighs in defeat as she walks into the dugout to see it’s mostly empty. Everyone is doing drills and she doesn’t even know what her friends told coach about her absence. She runs to the bathroom to change and she’s back a couple of minutes later to find Taylor and Alyssa waiting for her. 

“Hey, you’re here!” 

“How did it go?” 

Nat just shakes her head as she throws her bag down and just grabs her glove to join the outfielders. She doesn’t quite make it before their coach calls her over. 

“Horribly. I told them everything, and she’s only going to be suspended for 3 days.” 

Taylor curses and Alyssa groans under her breath as she tries not to admit that this isn’t surprising. She instead just shakes her head and mutters something uncomplimentary. She shoots Natalya an apologetic look but she doesn’t notice as she jogs over to the older blonde.

“Hi, Coach Frost, sorry I’m late."

The blonde just offers her a smile before asking something that Nat is luckily too distracted to react to immediately. 

“Don’t worry about it, Nat. How are you feeling? Your headache gone?” 

Eventually Nat nods before she claims that she just drank a lot of water and started to feel better. She goes off to try and catch up on what she missed, and she misses the three looks she gets as she tries to distract herself. She’s going to have to find a way to explain everything to her moms when she got home. She hoped they wouldn’t be too mad at her. 

“Wands, come on don’t be mad.”

Wanda shakes her head as she continues to angrily stir the batter in the bowl that she’s holding in her arms. You have already tried to take it from her, but she’d snatched it away and you didn’t dare try again. After all you were hoping to get some of the cookies that she was baking. You glance around the kitchen briefly at the mess that Wanda’s made in an effort to vent and get dinner ready. However, you’re sure that there is enough food here for multiple dinners. 

Your wife brings your attention back to her when she turns to you with a glare and an unconvincing response. 

“I’m not mad, Y/n. I’m not mad.” 

You just nod as Wanda starts to pour the batter in to a pan in several layers. Oh, she was making brookies. You sneak a little closer toward her as she turns to practically throw the pan into the oven and shut the door. You sigh in defeat before trying a different approach that will hopefully calm her down. You’d expected her to be upset like she had been when she left school, but apparently the drive was enough to change this to anger. 

“Wanda, I’m annoyed too, but I’m more concerned about Little Nat. Until the principal gets back to us, we should just focus on her.” 

Wanda wants to argue more but she knows you have a point. She’s annoyed that Stacy’s parents were able to keep her out of trouble, but she was mostly worried about her daughter. She hated to say it, but she wasn’t really surprised that Natalya let it go on this long. She loved her daughter so much, but she took after you when it came to conflict. She wasn’t the most intimidating teen but Wanda never thought she was going to suffer for it. Maybe that was shortsighted of her. 

After setting the timer, Wanda sighs tiredly before turning back toward you with an angry pout. She opens her mouth to speak, but she quickly changes her mind and just walks toward you until she runs into you. You take the hint and wrap your arms around her before kissing the top of her head with a sigh. You can’t think of the last time that you and Wanda had to deal with something like this. Natalya rarely got in trouble unless her uncle was involved, and you think that the last time you’d sat down and talked to her like you’re going to tonight was when she started middle school. 

You had wanted your daughter to be as prepared as possible for the horrors that she might face. You didn’t word it like that of course, but you made sure to mention that people could be horrible and mean, and then others can be amazing. She’s made good friends and you’re grateful for that, but somewhere along the way she’d also attracted Stacy’s attention. It made you angry and if she weren’t just a cruel kid, you’d consider threatening her. 

“It will be okay, Wands. We’ll make sure our Natalya is taken care of. One way or another.” 

“That’s bullshit! We’ll figure something else out, Nat. We’ll make her pay.” 

Taylor’s pacing angrily as she and Nat wait for their moms to pick them up. Alyssa had left earlier to meet with Luke to work on a project, and most everyone one else had already been picked up. Taylor had finally gotten Nat to tell her everything that happened, and she was angrier than Nat was disappointed. She knew that it would be difficult to get Stacy in trouble, but she was hoping that this would do it. She should have known better, but she wasn’t going to give up. 

“I don’t know. It seems like her parents are just going to be able to get her out of anything.” 

Taylor wants to argue against this but she hesitates as she considers other options. Their stunt this morning was just to get the administration’s attention. They could do a lot worse to Stacy, but now they would be the ones to get in trouble. The brunette groaned loudly before she kicked her backpack a few times. 

“It’s just not fair! She’s such a--.” 

Taylor trails off as she hears a car pull up behind her. She sees it’s her mom and she almost wishes she wasn’t here yet. She wanted to wait with Nat so she wouldn’t stress alone, but it ended up not mattering because as soon as she hugged her friend and got in the car, they drove past Nat’s mom on the way out. 

“Hey, Little Nat. How was practice?” 

You decided to pick up Nat because Wanda was still cooking when it was time to leave. You wanted her to continue making dinner and try to calm down before Nat got home. She’d been better until she decided to research Stacy’s parents and she realized how difficult it would be to get any justice for her daughter. 

Apparently, Stacy’s mom, Deborah Jenkins, was the president of the PTA, and she had brought the school close to $1 million last year. She also funded the replacement of all the computers in the labs at school. It really wasn’t going to be easy to go up against her. Then there was her husband, Mitch, he was the CEO of a fortune 500 company, so the couple probably had an obscene amount of money. Even more than she did. 

Wanda was a little discouraged by this, but she tried not to dwell on it as she waited for you and Nat to get home. She’s finished cooking at this point and she was laying down on the couch with Fletcher and Rogue as she tried to relax. The sound of the garage door opening though causes her to sit up straight and she waits impatiently for her daughter to appear. 

You can tell Nat is dawdling as soon as she gets out of the car, and you sigh as you grab her bag from the backseat and meet her at the front of the car. You reach out for her with a smile before putting your arm around her shoulder. 

“She’s not mad at you, kiddo. We just want to talk, okay?” 

Nat nods and she hugs you before she pushes open the door while taking a deep breath. 

“Thanks, Mom.” 

You smile as you watch Wanda stand up from the couch and practically come running as Natalya and you walk into the kitchen. Wanda smiles back as she rushes forward to pull her daughter into a hug with a heavy sigh. 

“Hi milaya. Are you hungry? I made some…” 

Wanda made a lot of food. After the brookies were finished, she’d made a pie that was still cooling on the counter. Despite the wonderful smells, Natalya shakes her head because she wants to get his over with. She can tell that her mom has been stressed because that’s the only way to explain all of the food that she’s made. She was used to her mom stress baking, and she usually enjoyed this and got to benefit from it, but she couldn’t think about that right now. She needed to come clean first. 

“No thanks, maybe later. I wanted to um...I wanted to talk first.” 

After briefly greeting your dogs, you follow mother and daughter to the living room. Wanda sits Natalya down on the couch and she moves beside her quickly. You decide to sit across from them, and you stretch out as Wanda just nods and has to resist the urge to bombard Nat with questions. She has about a thousand, but she decides to let Nat find the words herself as she carefully rubs her burn. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Stacy. I was hoping that she would get bored.” 

This doesn’t surprise you at all but you’re still a little disappointed about how Nat hadn’t told you. You don’t say anything though as you watch Wanda frown and reach for Nat’s hands to stop her from messing with her burn. It’s started to itch as it heals and Wanda’s had to remind her multiple times not to scratch. 

“We’re not mad that you didn’t tell us, Natalya. Maybe a little confused, but mostly worried that you’ve been dealing with her on your own for so long.” 

You see Nat look away toward the dogs that have come to sit at her feet. She hadn’t really greeted them properly and they were waiting for pets as they snuck closer and closer with each passing second. That said, they seemed to realize that something is up, so they’re not jumping all over her excitedly. They’re looking between the three of you, and Rogue whines quietly as he rubs his face against Nat’s leg. She reaches down eventually to scratch him before she decides to tell her parents the truth. 

It's been a difficult few months for sure, but she wasn’t completely alone. She hesitated to mention her friends because she didn’t want to get them in trouble. She knows that Taylor occasionally gets in trouble, and she honestly was almost immune to it at this point. Well, that wasn’t true, but she usually let the groundings she got roll off of her back. She couldn’t understand that. The few times she’s gotten in trouble, she felt so guilty that she basically begged for forgiveness. You were always a little faster to forgive than Wanda, so it was usually her that Nat was groveling to. 

Nat pushes these thoughts aside as she shakes her head and sits back so she’s closer to her mom. She has to resist the urge to smile at what she says next, but she wants her parents to believe her. She’d had support but maybe not from everyone she needed it from. 

“I wasn’t alone. I mean I told my friends, and…” 

Nat trails off as soon as she realizes what she was about to say. She would be fooling herself if she thought that her parents didn’t suspect it, but telling them that she’d gone to her aunt and uncle instead of them seemed cruel. Both you and Wanda know what she’s going to say, but you hate to see how guilty your daughter looks, so you decide to help her out. 

“Your aunt and uncle?”

Wanda has to stop herself from scowling at the mention of her brother, but she must not do a good job because you turn to look at her with a frown. Natalya cringes slightly but she speaks up quickly to hopefully make her mom less annoyed. 

“Well, I went to Aunt Yelena, but Uncle Piet overheard.” 

This doesn’t surprise you at all and you just laugh before patting your lap so Boone will come over to you. You smile at him as he puts his head in your lap, and you scratch him for a minute before Wanda speaks up. You’re not surprised by her question, and you’re glad that she’s starting here. You’ve only wondered what they’d told Natalya to do since you found out they gave her advice. 

“Did they give you any ideas?” 

Nat nods before she mutters most of what she says under her breath. You barely hear it, but Wanda’s already scowling at the idea of what her friend and brother recommended. 

“Well, she told me to talk to someone at the school who could help, or talk to you. Then something about hitting back. Uncle Piet thought I should hit her in the face.” 

Which I did.

Natalya doesn’t say this but she knows that her parents realize this, and you are once again trying not to smile at the idea of the blonde’s face covered in glitter. You were as averse to glitter as your daughter was, and the idea of getting that much on you made you shiver. You’d have to bathe for hours and you’d probably cry the whole time. 

“Did they suggest the glitter thing?” 

This time you have to smile because the idea of Yelena coming up with something like that is ridiculous. She would never and you’re fairly certain that Pietro wouldn’t either. He’s more of the ‘punch in the face’ type of guy, and you’re just grateful that Natalya hadn’t resorted to this. 

Your daughter shakes her head before she mentions that she came up with it herself. It seemed like an appropriate punishment at the time. This makes you consider what you think Natalya should face as a consequence to pulling a hilarious prank. You’re sure Wanda has something in mind, but you haven’t really talked about it much. She’d been lost in her thoughts for most of the evening, but she doesn’t waste any time sharing them with you and Natalya now. 

“I can understand that all of this is difficult, and that you don’t like asking for help but you shouldn’t have done that, Nat.”

Natalya can only nod in agreement because she knew as soon as she decided to pull this prank that it was a bad idea. She should have gone to her parents earlier, but what’s done is done now. She just had to make sure that everything she’d done so far wasn’t going to be for nothing. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

Was she though? She was mostly sorry that it didn’t work out for her and that she’d gotten in trouble. She was sorry that her parents were upset with her, but not about glitter-bombing Stacy, that had been great. 

At least Wanda suspects that she’s not sorry about what she did, but she doesn’t mention it for now. Instead, she focuses on the fact that she’s going to have to punish her daughter for the first time in years. Ground her at least. Wanda’s about to say this, but you speak up first when you decide you have one more question before sentencing. 

“Why did you do this today, Nat? Were you just fed up?” 

Wanda’s not sure why you’re asking, but Nat immediately stiffens at the fact that she’s been caught. Despite wanting to get everything out at once and having everyone important there, things hadn’t gone as planned. She hadn’t hidden her disappointment well, and she’s sure she won’t do any better now. She only considers lying for a moment, but she doesn’t want to get grounded for any longer. 

“I wanted a reason to get everyone together. I thought maybe if I could get Stacy’s parents there she’d get in trouble, and then having you two there would mean I only had to admit to putting up with her for too long, once.” 

This confirms your suspicions and you frown deeply at the thought of your daughter putting herself in this situation in hopes of getting someone’s attention. She didn’t choose the best way for sure, but she’d risked getting in trouble just to get Stacy called into the office. She’d certainly hoped for more than 3 days suspension when she’d committed to this. You can tell by her pout that she certainly feels this way, and you can’t deny that you want to go easy on her. She is your baby and she’d simply cried for help, but you had to be a good parent. Well, you had to let Wanda be a good parent.

“Well, you certainly got our attention, and we’re going to do our best to see that she’s held accountable, but you need to be too, Natalya.”

The youngest Maximoff represses a shudder at her mom’s tone, but she just nods as she braces for whatever her mom’s going to say next. She tries not to look like she’s bracing to be hit, but it’s been a while since she’s gotten in trouble and she never could get used to it.

“You’re grounded for the rest of the week. Including this weekend.” 

Natalya waits for her to say more, but Wanda just looks to you to see if you have anything to add. You just shake your head because you have nothing else to add. You honestly think that Natalya’s failure to get any real punishment for Stacy was punishment enough. This was just a formality. To your daughter though, it probably felt like being kicked while she’s down. 

“Okay. Can I go upstairs to clean up?” 

When you just nod and Wanda waves her upstairs, you both feel a little defeated. However, as you watch Natalya retreat upstairs with her shoulders dropped and her head held low, you realize she probably feels the worst of all. 

Masterlist

[purge-samauwu]

I'm watching heartbreak high and I just don't see how anyone can like Harper?? (I'm only on episode 4 or 5, the show is amazing but it's fucking whirlwind)

Granted I can tell some crazy shit happened to her and I'm already slightly spoiled to what it might be but I don't think that's an excuse for anything she does in the show for what I've seen.

She comes back to school after ghosting her friend, of which she's been friends with for at least a decade, and is completely unresponsive to her. (To a degree she must blame her for what happened but that blame must be not that much since she's so desperate to talk with her in the episodes after 1.)

Then proceeds to break Amerie's nose, or at the very least injure it, in front of everyone.

Amerie then tries to find a way to talk to her a a party. When she asks what happened all Harper can do instead of actually explaining is get defensive and cal her stuff.(If you don't feel like talking about something traumatic I'm not saying you have to but if you're going to hold it over someone's head because you believe it to be their fault you could at least give them the gyst of they seem keen on trying to fix it.)

And that's not even mentioning that Amerie didn't even think of snitching on her for participating in the whole thing that kicked this off. She really could have after the punch to the face. Because it is entirely unfair that she receives the brunt of the blame for something and the person that she did it with contributes to her alienation.

Then Harper fucks Amerie's crush. Which Amerie has no claim to the guy but Harper knew she had been crushing on him forever. Harper claims it just happened but I don't believe that for what happens next.

She then takes advantage of Malakai, Amerie's boyfriend, while he's under the influence and had just been freshly assaulted by the police. (With the help of Dusty, Amerie's crush, so he's disgusting too.) And the show doesn't specifically say it but I have every reason to believe she was at some level sober when she initiated the act. Which for obvious reasons is just fucking awful but also she slept with another person who held great value to Amerie. Even if she isn't conscious to it, she hast be unconsciously taking revenge on her. Her excuse for this was something along the lines of "I just wanted to help him🥺" or some shit. Which to quote Sarah (a girl in the show) "you just wanted to get your dick wet".

She then has the audacity to mad at her friend for not supporting her horrible behavior.

I've seen people try to excuse everything she's done (and will probably continue to do) all because she has trauma. Which I'm sorry but I have CRAZY amount of trauma and traumatic memories but I don't go around doing shit like this.

JUSTICE FOR AMERIE! SHE IS MY FAV BBG OTHER THAN DARRON AND QUINNI!! THEY ARE THE BEST TRIO AND I HOPE THEY LIVE BEAUTIFUL LIVES. (ALSO CA$H)

[itoendme]

golden kamuy is so weird because its one of my favorite manga but whenever i try to talk to people about it all that comes out is 'unhinged pathetic men', 'the art is a little wonky' and 'the anime has low budget bad cgi' but i wanted to take an opportunity to collect my thoughts and put them into words so this will be a very self-indulgent rant.

*warning: spoilers ahead*

i feel like, outside of japan, no one really talks about gk. i currently go to school in japan, and ever since moving here i was really surprised at how popular gk is. obviously there's the live-action movie coming out in less than two weeks but there are gk pop up stores, collab events, and i've even found gk merch in bic camera (generic electronic store that just has a bunch of miscellaneous stuff) but i think the reason for that is that its hark to really understand gk without some historical and cultural background. its about war and brutality and minority culture erasure and materialism and ptsd and abandonment trauma and manipulation and coming to terms with your own identity. it's historical, but its relevant. sure, it's filled with dick jokes and toilet humor and noda-sensei taking any excuse to draw naked men, but man, it gets dark, it gets deep, and it hits hard when it wants to. but that's not to say that the humor takes away from it. it's not a lighthearted manga/anime, but i think the humor ties into it perfectly and im still not quite sure how noda-sensei does it.

and the symbolism!!! gk sure does love symbolism and i am here for it all the way. understanding where the title comes from gave me chills. theres sugimoto and the dried persimmons as a representation of himself and his life before he went to war, and there is also so much symbolism surrounding ogata (especially with the eyes; as someone whose sense of identity and self-worth hinges pretty much entirely on his ability to shoot a gun, having him kill himself by shooting out his remaining eye was *a choice*)

i also think that asirpa is one of the best female characters in anime. she's not a naive little girl, as much as some of the other characters might treat her like one. she's someone who was forced to grow up too fast, who sees her purpose and knows she can't run from it. she carries the biggest burden out of everyone. and i love her friendship with sugimoto they are the most codependent besties and i love them to death.

not to mention the amount of research that clearly went into everything goddamn.

anyway it makes me sad that outside of japan, it's not that well known, when i think its a very well thought out and impactful story

[hype-blue-fixation]

Alastor's Family Headcannons/Breakdown + Predictions

These have been plaguing me for a while and I've done way too much history research

Family Life

Based on what Viv has said, Al is an only child and his race doesn't play into his story. Therefore, I think that the majority of his story and trauma are related to his family, WW1, the Great Depression, and just being mistreated by others in power. I have a whole thing about the war, guilt, radios (oh my!) but I will save those for another post.

The roaring 20's were an interesting time, because most Americans enjoyed a high quality of life and then were lined up at soup kitchens in the span of a decade. Al's family was probably no different. He knows what it's like to live with affluence, and he knows what it's like to beg for food. Especially if he was too young for the army draft, he would've been able to be by his mom's side at her richest and poorest. See life through the female perspective, in a time where women had been seen as a commodity for men and just now proving their worth as a valuable part of the workforce. This is why he's far more sympathetic toward women but doesn't give men ANY excuses.

Father Relationship

This is the one I'm really excited to talk about lol. So while American men of the time did legitimately love their wives, there was also this entitlement attitude. If you're a good fella, you deserve a good woman. Toxic masculinity ran rampant, leading to a lot of emotionally challenged men. Their self-worth was tied to how well they could provide for their families. I personally think that Al's dad suffered with some kind of anger disorder and probably some generational trauma. But, being a product of his time, he internalized all this stress instead of facing it, especially when times got hard and he couldn't do all the things a man ought to do. So while he did legitimately love his family and want to be a good husband, it manifested in verbal abuse, exerting control over his family, and sometimes even physical abuse. Because of this, Alastor has a natural mistrust/hate for any man who exerts control over others, while ironically becoming this type of man himself. He just wants to think he's better than that. It can also explain why Al is so amused by the concept of redemption. He saw his own dad, who legitimately wanted to be a better man, constantly try and fail. His dad was a product of his place and time, and no amount of "wanting to be better" was good enough. Add in the factor of war: Al's dad had this positive "I'll be home before Christmas" attitude and everything would be alright. And then crap hit the fan, worse became worst, and whatever effort Al's dad was making before was just non-existent. Completely and totally consumed by anger and hatred, and his family taking the brunt of it. Alastor's very first murder came shortly after.

Predictions

Here's some predictions for how Alastor's dad can be handled in the show, and I'm honestly down for any of them being cannon.

Alastor being responsible for both of his dad's deaths. They meet up in Hell during an extermination. His dad would be begging for forgiveness and second chances, but Al cold-heartedly shoves him out and watches him get stabbed.

Dad becomes an overlord, but never shows up to any of the meetings because he doesn't want to confront his son. At some point he decides to give redemption one last try at the hotel, but Al gives him absolute HELL the entire way and refuses to forgive him.

While he didn't make the best decisions, Al's dad truly did want redemption and to do the right thing. This was enough to get him into Heaven, and Alastor finds out about this at some point and CAN NOT process HOW his father got into Heaven, or how he's responsible for sending him there. Bro can't cope.

[theautisticbeastsden]

Posting this on my side blog because I am very scared but

Can people please stop throwing Georgie under the bus when it comes to fan works?? Like I cannot count the amount of times she's made out to be ableist or aphobic. It especially annoys me when people do this and then make Martin the perfect understanding partner who can do no wrong.

Like

We forgetting season 5?

Where he literally pressures Jon into killing people??

Ignoring how uncomfortable Jon is about it?????

Apparently so, because Martin is perfect and a god and can do no wrong, whereas Georgie is super evil for distancing herself from Jon for her own protection. And I like Martin!! I love him a lot, but the fanon version of him takes away from the complexity of his character. He describes himself as a manipulative prick because he is one. And the fandom ignores that in favor of sweet owo baby boy. Its just really annoying tbh.

You know what. Idea time. What if Jon had the same thing as Martin's mother (be whatever you want it to be) and when Jon tells him this and because of his trauma he thinks that Jon will be abusive like his mother was. The story would be about him over coming that, coming to terms with that his mother being ill is not an excuse for how she treated him and that it was entirely her own choice to treat him that way.

Urghhh anyways rant over. I love Martin and Georgie and I wish the fandom would stop doing them dirty.

[prodigal-explorer]

AN OPEN MINDED VIEW OF THE ISRAEL PALESTINE CONFLICT: NOT ANTI-ISRAEL, NOT ANTI-PALESTINE, BUT ANTI-HATE.

i’m gonna start by saying this:

the sheer amount of anti-jew hate i’ve seen on my tumblr dash is absolutely abhorrent.

and now, let’s get into the specifics of my view:

i recently went to two events that my college hosted. one was an event in which a guest speaker discussed antisemitism and how it is running rampant lately due to the israel-palestine conflict.

and the other event i went to was an israeli man and a palestinian man who are CLOSE FRIENDS, and them telling their stories and how the animosity between palestine and israel have affected their lives, killed members of their families, and yet, they were friends. because they knew that they shared two things: their birthplace and their grief.

after attending both of these events, this is what i learned: BEING PRO ISRAEL OR PRO PALESTINE IS NOT REMOTELY HELPFUL. zionism is not inherently evil. the conflict is NOT ABOUT RELIGION. it’s not the muslims versus the jews. it’s about politics. it’s about fear and trauma and hurt.

the land doesn’t belong only to israel.

but it doesn’t belong only to palestine either.

the land is land, and it’s a gift from the higher power that created this world.

if the israeli people weren’t constantly discriminated against or expelled everywhere they went, maybe they wouldn’t feel the need to cling onto the one tiny piece of land that they managed to claim as theirs.

if the palestinian people didn’t get kicked out of the place they lived in first, and weren’t treated unfairly in israel’s social climate, maybe they wouldn’t feel the need to cling the exact same way.

israel has money and power from america and other places. and israel has done some terrible things. i know that. but so has palestine. and this post isn’t meant to excuse the bombings, the killings, the genocides. that’s not what this is about.

but people are dying on BOTH sides. countless people. in the usa and in many other places, people are getting hate crimed just for being jewish because people are so pro-palestine that they became anti-israel and anti-jewish. and the same is happening to muslim people who are pro-palestine.

can you see how being pro/anti just fuels the fire more and creates more war and violence and conflict and killing? what feeds a war is the possibility of winning or losing. being on one side or the other side does ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to help the people. it HURTS the people. because they are having their homes destroyed due to the polarization that WE are causing due to our need to fit things into one box or another. jewish or muslim. good or evil. israel or palestine. it shouldn’t be israel or palestine. it should be israel AND palestine, finding a way to come to an agreement. to SHARE or to compromise. if not, then the war will destroy them both. two beautiful nations with such rich history and such amazing potential.

my point in writing this post was not just to express my opinion but to spread knowledge based on what i learned from accredited experts as well as people are literally IN israel and palestine and facing the effects of the conflict. most of us on the internet are just sitting back and watching, choosing to be either anti-jew or anti-muslim just to feel helpful, to feel progressive and woke and hip and in-control.

wearing a “from the river to the sea” t-shirt isn’t helping anybody. all it does is create more tension and polarity.

comparing zionism to evil and saying that all zionist’s want palestinians dead is incorrect and hateful and lowkey antisemitic.

and this goes for all the anti-palestinian hate as well, but honestly, most of my dash on here is filled with “pro-palestine” stuff that acknowledges the suffering the palestinians are going through while entirely ignoring the israelis going through something extremely similar.

before you get angry in the reblogs and accuse me of supporting a genocide (i’m not), or accuse me of being complacent (i’m being the opposite), or just any sort of hate, maybe take a deep breath and read what i wrote again.

it’s about the PEOPLE. every single person on this planet has inherent worth and dignity, and nobody deserves to be diminished to one trait of their identity.

“oh, you’re jewish? that means you’re a zionist and that means you’re pro-israel and that means you support bombing and killing innocent civilians!”

that’s actually genuinely logic i’ve seen on this website before, and it’s that sort of thinking that i want to combat. that’s the thinking that the israeli and palestinian friends want to combat.

being jewish isn’t the same as being pro israel. being muslim isn’t the same as being pro palestine. there is SO MUCH MORE to this conflict than what is being put down on social media. i beg of you guys to read a book about antisemitism. look for resources that actually dig deep, primary sources, interviews, multiple news sources so you get a nice collection of perspectives. don’t just read one article and make an assumption about an entire group of people.

and it’s so unfair to blame an entire country for decisions that are being made by the government. it’s like saying “oh everyone in america supports banning abortion” when the abortion bans were choices made by a few powerful people. not the entire country. so when critiquing a country for their choices in war, it’s so important to express that it’s the government at fault. not the people. not the religion that most of them happen to believe in. again, it’s the politics of the situation. not religions.

there that’s all. please don’t kill me or dox me or tell me to kill myself or accuse me of being a jew or a muslim (i am neither) who has control/power over any sort of media influence (i am a disabled, gay, filipino, autistic young gender-non-conformist. i have basically no clout in this society 😂). i am just stating my opinion which is a perfectly fine thing to do online.

[ladykailitha]

All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 14

Hello, hello! Thank you to everyone who participated in WIP Wednesday yesterday! It was a blast. I got so much work done.

This mainly Steve centric. Did I write almost an entire chapter with Steve going to bat for Edie to beat out some childhood trauma of my dad never doing that despite doing it for my older siblings? Yes. Does it further plot? Not really. But it was cathartic anyway.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

***

Steve didn’t like talking to principals or teachers as a whole. They got harder to charm as time passed. He could charm hardened business men out of their hard earned cash, but for some reason teachers failed to be charmed him.

So instead of charming them, he decided that he would do it the Nancy Wheeler method and bowl them over with facts.

Principal Kim and Mr Pearson were waiting for him when he arrived. They both rose up to greet him and he shook both of their hands.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet with me,” he said seriously. “I understand that tracing a picture for the art show and for her assignment is a very severe offense. And I of course want to address those allegations as to not tarnish her reputation and make it harder for her to get into colleges and universities.”

Mr Pearson sneered. “You’d just buy her way into any school she wanted anyway.”

Steve locked eyes with Principal Kim and even she looked shocked.

“Excuse, Mr Pearson,” she began, “do I mean to understand that you feel that Edith Harrington bought her way into your art class?”

Mr Pearson’s jaw dropped, realizing he had said the quiet part out loud. “I didn’t mean to apply that she was without talent or merit. But the picture in question is too good for someone her level.”

Steve twisted his bottom jaw as he ran his tongue over his teeth slowly. “How do you feel about the pinprick method?”

Principal Kim frowned. “The what?”

Mr Pearson squirmed in his seat. “It’s method used by many artists when copying works to ensure the height and width of the subject are in the correct proportions.”

Principal Kim turned to Steve. “And you assert your daughter used this method on her most recent assignment?”

Steve nodded. “Yes, and I can prove it.” He turned to Mr Pearson. “You brought the picture with you like I asked, yes?”

Mr Pearson snarled and grabbed his messenger bag. He ripped it open and got out Edie’s picture she had done of Irises by Van Gogh. It was a beautiful piece that showed bright blue irises on the side of a road.

“Can you honestly tell me that she did that without tracing it first?” he asked gruffly. He threw on the principal’s desk.

“It’s very pretty,” she said.

“Did you see her trace it?” Steve asked, turning to the teacher.

“Excuse me?” Mr Pearson asked, straightening up in his chair. “Of course not! She wouldn’t dare trace it in class.”

“What did she do in class?” Steve asked, crossing legs and wiggling his shoulders as he got comfortable. “She had to do something, right?”

Mr Pearson scowled. “I have a class of twenty four students, I can’t be watching each one every second of every day,” he scoffed waving his hands.

Principal Kim nodded sympathetically. “That’s just the way it is, I’m afraid, Mr Harrington.”

Steve smiled. “Oh I don’t doubt it, herding teenagers is difficult in small groups, I can’t imagine tripling the amount of teenagers I used to chaperon around when I got out of high school. I completely understand.”

Mr Pearson eyed him warily. “And where are you going with this?”

“She had to check off certain stages of her work with you, did she not?” Steve said, bouncing his leg on his knee.

Mr Pearson frowned. “Of course she did.”

“And at any stage did her work so signs of it being traced?” Steve asked, a charming smile on his face.

“No.”

Principal Kim sighed. “Be that as that may, Mr Harrington, we’re going to need proof.”

“Why is burden of proof on Edie’s side?” Steve asked, giving her his big puppy-eyed, ‘I don’t understand’ face. “Shouldn’t it be on her accuser’s?”

Silence fell and Steve knew he had won. They couldn’t prove she traced. There was no evidence of something that didn’t happen.

Now it was time for the final blow. God he loved this part. He got out a large color art book of Vincent Van Gogh’s works. He flipped it over to the page that had the image of the painting Edie had used. He then pulled out a pocket knife and set on top of the page.

“One last thing,” Steve said. “Is the pinprick method allowed in the art show?”

Mr Pearson nodded.

He grinned and turned back to the principal. “This is the book Edie used to base her work on. If you’ll use the knife to cut out the page and hold it up to the light you will pinpricks and not trace marks.”

“That could be any book bought at any time!” Mr Pearson protested.

Steve nodded and got a couple more things out of his bag and handed them to the Principal Kim. “I have the original pictures on my phone, but they are too small to see the details.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to her.

She looked at the pictures showing the book that had a scuff on the cover and that the book in front of her had a large scuff right where Edie had dropped getting out the car the day he bought it for her.

There was no doubt it was the same book. She handed the pictures to Mr Pearson who was forced to concede that it must be the same book. She picked up the knife and then looked at Steve.

“And your daughter is okay with us defacing the book like this?” she asked, eyeing Steve skeptically.

Steve nodded. “She said to use whatever means necessary to clear her name. So go for it.”

Principal Kim sighed and deftly cut out the page. She handed the knife back to Steve and then lifted the page. Sure enough there were seven or eight pinpricks but not a single trace outline. If she had traced it there would be heavy indentations around each flower and there weren’t.

“Now,” Steve said leaning forward, “put Edie’s picture over the top to see if the prick holes match.”

Principal Kim did just that and sighed when they lined up perfectly. There was no doubt that Edie hadn’t cheated.

“Edith’s picture will be submitted to the art show and the mark expunged from her record. Mr Pearson will apologize to your daughter in front of the class.”

“What?” Mr Pearson cried, leaping to his feet. “I will do no such thing!”

“You will and I will be watching when you do,” Principal Kim said sternly, “or I will suspend you without pay until a full investigation is done to see if you have done this to other students.”

Mr Pearson’s jaw dropped and he sat back down quietly, hands on his lap.

Steve stood. “You may keep everything but my phone, if you need to convince the judges of the art show of the validity of her work.”

She nodded. They shook hands and then Steve gathered his things and walked out. Before he could even close the door, he could hear the principal tearing into Mr Pearson.

Steve was grinning and not paying attention to where he was going when he nearly bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry!” he said, holding up his hands in surrender.

“Steve?” Eddie asked. “What are you doing here?”

Steve looked up into those warm brown eyes and smiled. “Just convincing Principal Kim and Mr Pearson to let Edie’s pastel drawing back into the art show.”

Harri peered around his dad. “What? Really? Did you win?”

Steve grinned. “Sure did. If they had done an investigation instead of blinding following the word of one vindictive little girl, Mr Pearson wouldn’t be under scrutiny for doing similar things to other students.”

He crossed his arms and shifted his weight to his back foot. “I’m pretty sure if they looked deep enough, they’d find that he had been grading harsher for so called nepo babies. Children of rich parents that had generational wealth over those students that had nouveau-riche parents. Because he thought they had worked hard for their money.”

Eddie laughed. “And how would you know that?”

Steve grinned. “Because that’s what Nancy dug up for me when I asked.”

Eddie threw back his head and really laughed. “That would do it, yeah.”

Harri cocked his head to the side and frowned. “Who’s Nancy?”

Steve turned him with a soft smile. “She’s a world renowned journalist who your dad and me went to school with.”

“Sounds vaguely familiar,” he said with a shrug. “But that’s cool she helped you get Miss Thing’s art back in the show.”

“I called in a favor,” Steve said with a shrug.

“She owes you more than one favor,” Eddie grumbled.

Steve bit his lip and blushed. “She knows.”

Eddie grinned. “Good.”

“You guys want to come over and celebrate with us?” Steve asked. “The Lawrences are going to be there, as well as the Grants.” At their look of confusion he clarified. “Kenny’s family, the band’s keyboardist.”

Harri and Eddie looked at each other and then Harri nodded, while Eddie shrugged.

“Sure,” Eddie said. “I don’t see why not.”

*

Edie had gotten use to seeing Mr Munson at her house so often that sometimes it surprised her that Harri and him didn’t live there. That they actually lived elsewhere.

“Are you sure they aren’t dating?” Kenny asked one day at lunch. They were huddled together at their table away from the seething wrath of Lauren Duncan and her crowd of mean girls.

When it came out that Lauren was the tattletale the whole art class turned on her. And straight up ignored her when she would even so much as ask for the eraser to be handed to her.

But that ostracizing only made her vicious out of class. Bumping into Edie to get Edie to drop her stuff or even fall. Putting hate mail in her lockers. Whispering to her friends behind her hands.

Though she tried knocking Edie’s lunch tray out her hands only the once. Edie was quick enough to shove the tray right in Lauren’s face. And what made it even better is that she couldn’t claim that Edie had done in purpose because then she would have to explain why she was that close to Edie in the first place. And after her week suspension for falsely accusing Edie of wrongdoing, she couldn’t afford more trouble. So she stuck to the little things.

Harri sighed. “I honestly don’t know, man.”

Edie nodded. “They go out to lunch every Monday. And it’s gotten to the point where Vanessa, my dad’s secretary won’t even schedule anything for that time.”

Harri nodded. “I think we eat dinner more often at your house then we do my own. And I like my house!”

Mandy nodded. “I mean our dads still hang out, but now Mr Munson tags along too. My dad said that he’s seen more of Mr Munson in the last month then he has the last decade.”

They all nodded.

“Let’s not forget Mr Munson staying for practice instead of dropping Harri off and coming back later,” Brian said, poking at his food, pushing it around on his plate. “We always have to break them up when we’re done so Harri can go home.”

“When summer starts,” Mandy said, “We should test it, see how it takes for them to notice we’re done.”

They nodded again.

“But when I ask my dad,” Edie said, “all he’ll say is that he’s sworn off dating so it can’t be a date.”

Harri threw his arms in the air. “My dad is no better. He keeps telling me that Papa was it for him, and second chances only happen once in a life time and he’s already had his.”

“They are so stubborn, I swear,” Edie huffed. “But we all promised that we wouldn’t interfere in their relationship.”

Kenny straightened up. “You guys promised that. I didn’t.” He grinned. “And I think I know just how to do it.” He put on his backpack and grabbed his tray. “I’ll talk to you guys, later.”

***

Part 15 Part 16 Part 17  Part 18  Epilogue

Also, I had something similar happen to me with a different Van Gogh painting Giant Peacock Moth, only I was in middle school and it was just kids being grumpy the French teacher didn’t care. It was just away to teach us about the French artists movement of the 1800s. I still have it somewhere.

Also: Harri isn’t in trouble, he’s going to see the principal and his guidance counselor because some of his credits from his Cali school didn’t transfer.

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