#but the absolute saddest thing is that I forgot and managed to miss out on how full of life life can be

[catullansparrowlet]

Life surely is something. I cannot believe I forgot that.

[genderqueerdykes]

literally the most pathetic thing on this planet is corporations sniveling and crying and acting like they'll go out of business and explode and die if they miss out on .0000000001 cent worth of profit. like it's genuinely fucking pathetic to watch a machine that makes thousands of dollars every second throw themselves on the ground and sob and cry because they missed out on a few cents here and there. oh no, an employee earned some overtime. oh no, the company had to buy a new machine because the old machine broke down and injured and killed employees.

if you've ever worked retail, you'll know the bullshit that comes with being promised overtime. for those that don't know, when you earn overtime in a retail position, your boss will slash hours off of the end of your week so that you don't actually earn overtime. this isn't like, a random occurrence that only happens when you have an asshole manager. this is company procedure. if you earn overtime, your bosses must do everything in their power to try to take it away from you. going as far as to give you entire days off at the end of your week to avoid paying it out. it's a promise they have no legal obligation to carry out. it's just to make the position sound more enticing.

corporations are so pathetic it's insulting. we're expected to pinch all of our pennies and hold on to them for dear life, meanwhile, corporations who make billions of times more than we do act like they have to do the same, going as far as to skimp out on necessary supplies and safety precautions for their employees. a lot of work places don't have necessary PPE. a lot of people do not receive adequate training on dangerous pieces of equipment because the company doesn't want to "waste" the time (money) to train them.

it's just so fucking pathetic to watch a multi billion dollar company act like if they lose out on literal pennies that they'll go out of business instantaneously. it's absolutely pathetic and i hope the suits at the top know that nobody who matters looks up to them. we look down on you as a pathetic, whiny, greedy pieces of shit who cry and moan about losing out on cents while they make billions. it's literally the saddest behavior on planet earth. wake up.

Edit: great addition from the tags for folks who might not know how working retail works. corporations will go as far as they have to in order to slash your hours. like this person said, generally they refuse to let you work full time (40 hours a week) so they do not have to pay for any possible medical benefits as well as destroying any chances you may have had at overtime. i forgot to mention that corporations love to promise medical benefits (health insurance) and then deny you the necessary working hour requirements in order to qualify for it in the first place. thank you to who wrote these:

[sarahsmi13s]

Mama's Don't Get Sick Days

whumptober day 18: fever / vomiting / warm soup

pairing: mickey 'fanboy' garcia x reader

characters: mickey garcia, wife!reader, genevieve garcia, jayda garcia, sebastian garcia

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, vomiting, mickey is a dad, parenting while sick, fever, neglecting health, please let me know if I missed any

word count: ~ 2.1k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace

also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: when your a spouse and a parent, sometimes you forget that you can be taken care of as well

You sighed as you sat on the couch. Your head was pounding and your stomach was churning with the whole lot of nothing that was in it.

Running around all morning with three kids, two of them under the age of 5 and one of them was just learning how to walk, was an absolute nightmare with how you were feeling.

Mickey had woken you up with a forehead kiss before going off to work and then your 6 and 4 year old woke you up a little while later with Genevieve crying because she was gonna be late for school.

So, with a splitting headache and sinus pressure, you got her dressed and fed her breakfast before getting all of your kids in the car and taking her to school.

The rest of the day was a blur of chasing Jayda and keeping her occupied and keeping little Sebastian out of things and things out of his mouth. 

Jayda was 4 and pretty good at staying out of trouble, but she was still young and had an independent head on her shoulders – so asking for help was never really an option so you had to make sure she wasn’t climbing on things and getting stuck on the closet's top shelf.

Sebastian was 1 and just learning how to walk. So he was getting into anything he reached and if it was on the floor or the table it most likely was going in his mouth.

So, between keeping Jayda on the ground, Sebastian from eating something he shouldn’t, and you not puking every time you bent over or changed a diaper and going through tissues like you were watching the saddest scene 100 times, you were exhausted. 

But you had to stay awake even if those two were napping, because you had to pick up Gen from school on time.

“Mama?” Gen asked from her bar stool as you make her after school snack of Goldfish, and her dried mangos that you forgot to pack that morning, and turkey cheese rolls. 

You glanced over your shoulder, “What’s up Vieve?” “Are you feeling okay? You look like I feel when I’m feeling icky,” she said, sounding so sweet as she rested her head on the counter. “And I was almost late for school, you always have me up…” “I’m okay baby, just a little frazzled today,” you said before coughing into your arm.

Sniffling, you turned and put the paper plate in front of her, “I’m really sorry about this morning, I should’ve gotten up sooner.” Genevieve took a bite of her turkey cheese roll, “It’s okay I got to school on time.”

You gave her a gentle smile before kissing her head, “Did you have a good day?” She nodded, “I did, Jacie and I played…” You nodded along with her as she proceeded to tell you about her day, listening to her as you took some Cutie slices off of Jayda’s plate and Cheerios off of Sebastian’s tray.

At some point while she was talking you went to check her lunch box to see what she hadn’t eaten. 

But as you opened it you were hit with a pungent reminder of what she had for lunch. Tuna and crackers, something her grandmother introduced her to during the last visit.

The smell churned your stomach that last time and anything you managed to actually eat was crawling up your throat.

Covering your mouth, you managed to make it to the downstairs bathroom before falling to your knees and puking in the toilet.

You rested your head on your arm, groaning miserably as you flushed the toilet before regaining your bearings and standing up.

With your head pounding, you wash your hands and swish your mouthwash before going back to the kitchen.  “Hey, Jay, Vieve?” You said softly as you got Sebastian out of his high chair. “Yes Mama?” “I’m gonna go sit on the couch, Bash is gonna be in his playpen. Finish your snacks and then you can play okay?”

They both nodded before Genevieve stopped you with a hand on your arm as you walked by, “Are you not feeling well?” You sighed, “No, baby, I’m a little under the weather but don’t you worry, I’m gonna be okay.”

You gave her a gentle smile before going to the living room and putting Sebastian in his playpen. You sighed as you sat down. “Oh lordy… just a few more hours and he’ll be home and I can rest.” 

As you curl up under a blanket and move the trash can closer to the couch, you rest your cold hands on your face to try and relieve the pressure in your nose. 

You can make out Jayda and Genevieve arguing in the kitchen. “I can take the Sprite to Mama!” “Jay, you can’t reach them in the fridge! Get the crackers!” “I don’t wanna!”

“Girls! Please don’t yell,” you groaned a little from your spot on the couch. “Sorry Mama!”

You sighed and rubbed your head before you heard more loud noises coming from the kitchen and then a little, “Oopsie.”

“What happened?” 

“Jayda tried to get a can of Sprite and dropped them…” 

Taking a sharp inhale, you look up at the ceiling and let it out before looking at Sebastian, “I’ll be right back Bash. Mama has a mess to clean.” “No! I gots it, Mama! I’ll get a towel,” Jayda said as she ran to the laundry room.

“Okay,” you sighed, at this point it was useless to try and argue. You were tired, you could mop it up later.

“Here Mama, I got you some water,” Genevieve said softly as she brought you a cup. It was over flowing, and you were sure there was a trail of water behind her. But the thought was sweet. “Thank you baby.”

You sipped the water in your glass before sitting it down and leaning back.

“Mama! I brought you crackers!” Jayda shouted, running over with a sleeve of crackers. 

You smiled a little, “Thank you Jay.” You reached for them but she held out a hand, “No, I’ll open it!” “Jayda, don’t yell! Mama has a headache!” “Vieve, you’re yelling,” you said gently. “Sorry Mama.” 

You looked back to Jayda to see her struggling before ripping it open and spilling crackers on the carpet. “Oops…” She looked up at you and handed you what was left, “Here you go.” “Thank you hun.”

“Why don’t you both go play in your room, Gen. Daddy will be home soon and you can go outside.”

They nodded before running up the stairs. 

You sighed and held your head in your hands before sliding to the floor and picking up the crackers and throwing them away. 

But your position change made blood rush to your head and triggered your gag reflex. “Shit,” you muttered before gripping the edges of the trash can and just waiting for it. Apparently it was taking its time until you sat up because it all rushed up at once when you did.

Groaning into the trash can, you spat into it before getting up and going back into the bathroom to wash your mouth out again.

You came back into the living room to hear Sebastian crying. 

“Oh Bash, Mama left you alone didn’t she. I’m sorry,” you said, picking him up and shushing him gently. “Oh I know baby boy, I’m sorry.” 

It took you about 20 minutes of that before he fell asleep in your arms and you laid him down in his playpen. 

“There you go, baby.” You sighed and laid down on the couch. “Just an hour, and Mickey will be home…” You cuddled up with a blanket and turned the TV on, “Just need to relax for a little bit.”

Mickey smiled as he walked in, “Hey, guess who’s home?” “Shhhh, Daddy, Mama’s sleeping,” Genevieve hissed from her spot on the carpet. 

“Oh,” he winced. “Sorry sorry.” 

He put his bag down gently before walking in, seeing tissues on nearly every surface from where you had blown your nose while you chased kids around the house. And then when he got to the living room he noticed the trash can next to the couch.

The girls were coloring in the living room, having come down to watch TV just before Mickey got home, and Sebastian was still napping.

He sighed and went over to you, glancing to see the vomit in the trash can. He knelt down, feeling the saltines break under his weight. 

“Hey, baby?” Mickey gently shook your shoulder, putting the inside of his wrist to your forehead, “Shit… you’re burning up.” He patted your face, “Hey honey.” 

You groaned a little as your eyes fluttered open, “Hey, Mick…”

“How long have you been like this?” 

“What do you mean?” 

He arched his brow, “Um, you’re cuddled up on the couch burning up and sweating like I do on the tarmac? Honey, have you felt icky all day?” He censored himself, remembering little ears were in ear shot. 

“I um,” you said sniffling as you sat up. Mickey watched you close your eyes and groan as you steadied yourself and he frowned. “Sweetheart…” “I’m okay Mick, just a little-” 

Your sentence got interrupted by a sudden rush of sick. “Trash can…” Mickey didn’t even question it and held the trash can up, holding your hair back with his free hand.

“I got you baby, I got ya.” 

“Daddy? Is Mama okay?” Jayda asked, a little worry in her voice. “Yeah, Mama’s gonna be okay. She’s just not feeling well, but she’s okay.” Jayda nodded and quietly went back to coloring. 

Once you’re done throwing up, Mickey helps you stand. “Girls, Mama and I will be right back, be good okay?” “Yes Daddy,” they both said as they continued to color.

Mickey helped you to the bathroom and sat you on the closed toilet as he looked for the thermometer. “Have you felt bad all day?” You opened your mouth but he spoke again. “And don’t lie to me.”

You sighed and nodded as he held the thermometer up and put it in your mouth.

“You’ve felt shitty all day?” You nodded again as the thermometer beeped and he took it out to look at it. “101.3, fuck, Honey. Why didn’t you call me? I would have come home. Mav would under-”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to take you away from work.” “Screw work, you’re sick and you took care of three kids by yourself. Honey, you’re exhausted and you won’t get better if you don’t let yourself rest.”

You shook your head before groaning a little at the headache the action gave you, “Miguel, you can’t-” You blinked as you stopped mid sentence, your lips trembling as you felt sick again. Covering your mouth, you moved to the floor and lifted the lid to throw up in the toilet.

Mickey frowned, feeling awful for not being here today and leaving you to deal with the kids while you miserable. He squatted down and grabbed a ponytail holder, tying your hair back for you, “I’m calling Cyclone and Mav, I’m not going in tomorrow so I can take care of you and the kids.”

“I can’t ask you to do that… You love your job.”

He looked up at you, almost angry, “Not as much as I love you. And you’re not asking, that’s the reason I’m telling you that I’m not going in.”

You stayed quiet and just shook your head, trying not to get sick again, “I need to make dinner…” He shook his head right back, “You’re not serious, you’re actively trying not to throw up again. Y/N, you need to go lay down with a cold rag on your head. I’ll fix dinner for me and the kids and you get soup.”

You perked up a little, sitting up and looking at him, “Your abuela’s soup?” 

He smiled and cupped your cheek, “If that’s what you want then that’s what I’ll make. But only if you take a break and let me baby you until you're better.” “But the kids-” “What did I say?” 

You sighed, “Okay, okay fine.” 

“Alright now, let’s get you on the couch and I will get any mess left by our girls.”

You nodded and let him take you back to the couch before he got you a cool, damp rag.

“There you go Honey,” he said, laying it across your forehead. “Thank you Mickey. I love you.” “I love you too.” 

You smiled at him, “Go start dinner so I can have abuela’s soup, go go.” He chuckled, “Alright, alright.” He kissed the top of your head before going to the kitchen.

“Hey! Who spilled Sprite all over the floor?”

taglist: @bradleybeachbabe @mayhemmanaged @kmc1989 @lovinglyeternal @horseshoegirl @cassiemitchell @fanboyswhore9 @nightowlalltheway @86laura11 @els-marvelvsp @valmare @startrekfangirl2233

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

[marygih]

It's good to have you to remind me of more things about our suffering Miss P. I think she is the most suffering character, everything bad always falls on her.

22. She must have felt like the worst mother in the world when she had to follow Golan and abandon her children on the island, and she's probably afraid they'll think that of her.

23. She can't even trust the children she saved and raised, since at the first opportunity they drugged her and ran away, she was right when she said that the people we love are the ones who disappoint the most.

24. Fear of abandonment, when Abe didn't send letters, the letters she sent him were begging for answers. She wanted to know about her son, but apparently she had no answers.

25. Years of constant "loneliness" not that she was really alone on the island, but she was the only adult, she had no friends to talk to, there was no one, and the only time she left... The "Charlotte case" happened. And she couldn't communicate with other ymbrynes because the device wasn't secure (I forgot the machine name, but Abe also had one)

26. The fear of being found by wights and hollowgasts, which arose before she was officially formed, she sought out each child at the risk of being killed by one of these abominations.

27. She absolutely must have PTSD after so many traumas in her life.

28. I was forgetting this one: receiving Marcie's photo and knowing that she was cannibalized by a monster, it must have been horrible, she thought the little girl would have a happy ending... And she died.

29. She has difficulty letting go, letting people go. She was unable to bury Victor's body, she preferred to sew it up and put it on a bed as if he were still alive, gave the corpse a room for more than 70 years. Not to mention that she spent these 70 years wearing only black, she doesn't overcome grief easily.

30. She blames herself for what her brothers became, she constantly questions whether she could have been a better sister. She blames herself for what they've become

Something you said made me think: the only time she really managed to express a feeling of anger and revolt, without repressing it, was when she shouted at Jacob at the end of AMOD. It was the first time she freaked out and said whatever she wanted. She talked about how being a leader sucked and how it was killing her.

I can't read AMOD, it's very difficult for me, it's distressing, her life was already horrible and Jacob tried to make the situation much worse. If the coma and nightmares about Caul weren't enough, there was still the possibility of some harm approaching her and the children, after all, she was the protector and was unable to do so.

Sewing Victor up must have been the saddest, most agonizing, and most painful thing she has ever done in her life.

✨Miss Peregrine's trauma is underrated✨

"I know what it's to feel separated from a family that does not understand you, does not want you. I know what it is to feel absolutely alone: It is a withering torture."

- Alma LeFay Peregrine, Miss Peregrine's Museum of Wonders

[nycbanderson]

HINT: It's closer than you think.

Sweet, well-mannered, people pleaser Blaine Anderson hardly ever hated anything, except —

(Trigger warnings: Homophobia and Physical Assault)

Westerville, Ohio.

He had nothing against his hometown in principle, really. It was just like any other small city in the world, filled with people who seemed to know what they were doing and merely trying their hardest to play with the cards they were dealt with. And yes, he had to admit that he didn’t like them. Not at all. Because not only were they negative, narrow-minded individuals, but also seemed to pride themselves on being so, which bothered him a lot. But still, that wasn’t the reason why he hated the place. At the mere age of thirteen, after he had just come out to his parents, he knew instinctively, that not a single place on earth could possibly be completely free from discrimination and prejudice. And as much as he hated that saying, he had to agree that being prejudiced is as natural as breathing. Prejudice against the poor or the rich, the smart or the slow, the gaunt or the obese… Heck, even he himself had harbored some kind of prejudice against the residents of Westerville. It was what it was, regardless of the party that would benefit from it and whether they deserved it or not. So Blaine knew, in the same way that he knew that there were no truths behind those fairy tales he had once loved as a child, and why a happy lie is sometimes better than a sad truth. 

If someone were to ask him how he had managed to figure out all of that at such a young age, he would always credit it back to his father. Contrary to everyone’s belief, Blaine was never the ‘troubled’ one in the family. He wasn’t the golden child by all means, but he instantly became the ‘better’ one the moment his older brother, Cooper Anderson, decided to run away to Hollywood to become an actor. And for a short period of time Blaine was secretly happy, relieved even, with the way things have turned out and how they’ve worked in his favor. His father was never an easy man to please, and so he began to work harder in anything and almost everything, trying his earnest to earn a nod from his father. He longed to be noticed and approved, considering the fact that he hadn’t been able to receive those two things in such a long time. Too long, as a matter of fact, especially when there’s someone like Cooper in the family. And of course, his hard work paid off just like he knew they would and garnered him trophies eventually - he had multiple ones just for his singing, one for tennis, one for polo, and even one for horse riding. Needless to say, his parents were proud of him, and that made him confident. He felt like he could do anything, and his parents would still be proud. He was no longer living under Cooper’s shadow, desperately searching for a way to be allowed inside the family circle, he was finally in it. Which was why, at the age of thirteen, when he first realized he felt about boys, the way that he should be feeling about girls, he came out to his parents without really thinking about it. He liked boys, and he didn’t think there was a problem with that. Except there was.

It never occurred to him that his father might be slightly homophobic until after he came out to him, but in hindsight he probably should have seen that coming. What crushed Blaine the most was the fact that he had to learn the hard way, that it was entirely possible for parents to set a limit on parental affection, if you ever stopped being exactly what they expected and wanted you to be, even when their love was supposed to be unconditional. It took him five years to earn his place in the family, but only five minutes to shatter it all. But perhaps the saddest thing of it all was how quickly love fades and the way he had fooled himself into thinking that he was ever in control when he never really was, not even close. 

So no, the people of Westerville wasn’t the problem and they never were. He hated his hometown because this place was where it all started. His fate was sealed from the moment his own father rejected him in their own house, the one place that was supposed to function like a shelter and protect him from the storms outside, but instead he had gotten struck, not from actual lightnings, but those vexatious words that came out from his father’s lips. He hated it. He hated Westerville. He hated his house - the living room, the kitchen, his bedroom, all of it. He hated his old school, and perhaps even Dalton too. He hated that little street right across from his old school where, for the first time of his life, he understood just how desperate he was to stay alive and how much it actually hurts to stay silent so that his blood won’t run into his own mouth when all he wanted to do was to scream. Westerville reminded him of the bullies and assailants that should have been apprehended and locked up, for one reason or the other, but were never actually arrested. It reminded him of what it felt like to be an outcast, of how unattainable unconditional love was, and the fact that he would never, ever belong here, or anywhere else, for that matter. Some might say that he was accepted and celebrated in Dalton, but he knew better than to believe them. “That performance was perfect” or “you sing like a dream” - those were accomplishments and things that he had done, as Blaine Warbler, but they weren’t him. He talked and sang perfectly, dressed up perfectly, because being perfect worked with his parents once, so there was absolutely no reason why it wouldn’t work again. In those halls, with those Warblers, he became who they expected him to be. He conformed, if only to retain a quite existence while he heal himself. 

And now, almost eight years later, his wounds had already faded into scabs but the pain still remains. He would never use the word ‘broken’ to describe himself. Wounded, perhaps, but never broken. Broken would just mean that he was beyond repair, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. He would never allow himself to reach that stage, even if it meant putting on a persona and treating it like a character role he had been bestowed to play. Because if Blaine Anderson was good at one thing, it was performing. He was always very good at giving the audience exactly what they wanted while making sure he had a tight hold on his emotions at all times. The last thing he wanted was for them to slip from his grasp and bleed all over the stage. 

He hated Westerville, but he had no problem pretending that he didn’t, and that was exactly what he did when he’d finally arrived at his house, chilled to the bone. When Pam Anderson came to the door to greet him, he beamed and gave her the warmest smile he could muster, even though every fiber of his being was tired and yearning to go back to New York. 

“I’ve missed you.” Pam returned his smile, before leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheeks and a quick hug. “How was the flight?” She asked absentmindedly as she moved forward to help him out of his coat.  

“It was alright.” He replied, a tad too fast to his own liking, but he could tell that she didn’t notice. Or maybe she did, but pretended that she didn’t. He was more like his mother than his father after all. 

“That’s good to know.” Pam acknowledged softly, running her fingers through his hair which was now coming out of its gelled prison. “Oh- before I forgot, the mailman just left like, two minutes ago and something came for you.” She said as she reached out to the small table beside the entrance door to pick up the letter meant for Blaine. 

Blaine could do nothing but stare at the letter incredulously, thinking to himself just how on earth did they know that he was coming back home today? But he supposed that was a redundant question, seeing as how they were the ones running the country. He accepted the letter from Pam’s hand without another word and folded it up into half, before putting it in his pocket. Unbeknownst to his mother however, he wasted no time in scrunching that piece of paper into his palm, hard. He wasn’t going to read it, and his mother certainly didn’t need to know that. 

“It’s good to have you back, sweetheart. Come on, let’s go get you something to eat.”

“It’s good to be back.” Blaine smiled again, big and bright before stepping inside the house and closing the door behind him.