#i made this when i was in the worst pain of my life and it's incredibly funny in retrospect

[diremoone]

it’s just a scratch! (it isn’t) | sylus.

a/n:: apparently receiving a head injury leaves plot bunnies behind too lol [ sylus fluff ;; tis mildly selfship coded ;; i whipped this drabble up in about an hour haha ]

Sylus watches you pause as you lift the mug to the cabinet. Your brows furrow and proceed to slowly spin the mug around curiously.

“Sylus?” You halfway turn to him to look from your peripheral.

He glances up and replies, ��Yes?”

“What am I doing?”

“Unloading your dishwasher, I believe.”

A pause, then a small, “Oh,” escapes your lips. Then you put the mug up and close the dishwasher. He’d finish it for you later.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asks, eyes glancing up at you from the book in his hands.

“About the same… Uhm…” You space out, staring at the TV for a good ten seconds before coming back to reality. “Maybe more dumb than usual.”

Sylus chuckles. “You’re not dumb. You just sustained a head injury.”

“Which has made me feel dumber,” you point out.

“Which is why I’m here,” he adds.

“To tell me I’m dumb?”

He scoffs in disbelief and closes his book as he remarks, “To make sure you don’t smack your head into anything else while you’re recovering and on leave, sweetheart.”

You feel the fluster creep to your shoulders and your cheeks at the nickname, ducking your head down bashfully.

Sweetie, when he’s teasing. Sweetheart, when he’s being soft and caring. You often hear more of the latter nowadays.

“It’s just for a few days. My symptoms should clear up come the day I go back for a checkup,” you grumble. “And it wasn’t even that bad. My elbow took the brunt of it.”

“I’m aware of all that. And until then, I’ll be sticking around to make sure you’re okay, kitten.”

But the cute moment ends when you cuss profusely, hands flying to your head in the spot where you’d gotten hit. Sharp pains crawl down from the spot, nearly debilitating and making you hunch over.

You faintly register something hitting the couch, followed by large hands guiding you by your shoulder and waist to sit down.

Sylus doesn’t like the way your body rocks in his hold, head bobbing up and down while your eyes are screwed shut from the pain, hissing when it flares. He takes his hand and gently cradles the back of your head, pulling you to his shoulder to find rest. If you had been standing, he’s sure he would’ve had to catch you before you hit the ground.

Thirty seconds in total pass before the pain in your head finally dies down. You still feel a tingle, but don’t mention it.

You inhale, then speak softly, “It passed.”

It takes a few seconds for Sylus to reply. “That was the worst one yet.”

“That you’ve seen,” you try and joke. But the grumble of dissatisfaction tells you he’s anything but amused. In fact, you might’ve just put him in a worse mood.

“I guess that means I’ll be staying over for quite some time, even after your next doctor’s visit.”

You lift your head from his shoulder and stare pointedly. “Sylus, no.”

“What? You don’t like my company?”

“It’s just not necessary for you to stay and watch me. I’m a big girl,” you argue.

“A big girl with a head injury,” he “corrects” you with a grin. “And don’t worry about your little friends. I’ll disappear for awhile when they decide to come over.”

You sigh in defeat. “You’re making my head hurt.”

“Then stop arguing, kitten.” And then Sylus’s voice drops an octave, expression changing from cheeky to concerned. “Let me take care of you. Your head meeting that table after that giant Wanderer tossed you wasn’t pretty to watch, you know.”

This time, you finally hear him, and he sees it.

You know where this is coming from. You know this comes from whatever past you two had together that you can’t remember (but apparently Sylus does) for the life of you. His concern for you is always genuine, you know this. Underneath every layer of teasing and cheekiness, you know Sylus means it when he says he wants to take care of you. And you can only imagine what you must’ve looked like getting tossed like a ragdoll by that Wanderer you’d fought.

You sure as hell know what your head feels like.

“Alright, you win.” You shift yourself onto his lap, getting cozy and laying your head back on his shoulder and closing your eyes. “Just make sure to jet when my friends come over. The last thing I need is a tremendous headache about how the leader of Onychinus is in my living room tending to me.”

He chuckles, then presses a long, sweet kiss to the top of your head. “Deal.”

[dark-moonlust]

Unmasking Desire

Commission October 2024 for anon!! This has so much sass, enemies-to-lovers vibes and smut!

Pairing: male Fae (Eli Thorn) x fem Vampire (Mara Sinclair)

Summary: a female vampire named Mara and a male fae named Eli are professors at the same university. They have been rivals since they met but they’ve been assigned to work on something together by the head of their department. Despite their attempts to get out of it, they agree to meet up to get the project done. Emotions are unleashed, their desire unmasked.

Warnings: 18+, oral (fem+male) foreplay, p in v sex, overstimulation, in public but magic keeps it private and no one finds them, many orgasms (fem), size kink, dirty talk, big fae🍆, lots of 💦.

Copyright @ 2024 by Kate Hart This commission is owned by Kate Hart. As the original writer, I strictly forbid any form of reproduction, replication, or translation of my stories without my explicit consent. This is a commissioned short story and will be posted on the author’s sites for others to enjoy.

Late evening found Mara sitting in the back corner of the library, her legs crossed, drumming her dark-red nails against the leather arm of the velvet sofa. It was a quiet Saturday, no one was around. The library was open for her convenience. Moonlight filtered through the tall, narrow windows, sending faint shadows across the room. Silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face but her lips were twisted, a frown on her features.

She didn’t like waiting—especially when it was for him.

Professor Eli Thorn.

He was the last damn male in existence she would have chosen to cooperate with.

The project.

It was the worst duty she'd ever been given. Runes and magical artifacts from the Lost Ages. The words of the chief department still rang out in her mind. He had handed in this assignment at them with a single directive: "You two are some of our best minds and I'll expect you to work together, whatever your personal differences. Your research will provide remarkable intel for our university.”

Of all the damn people she had to cooperate with him.

Of course, Mara had tried to wriggle her way out of the assignment no matter how great. But the head of their department had been firm. Mara was busy enough already and working with Professor Thorn was going to be a pain in the butt. He grated on her nerves. He was a silver-tongued devil who thrived in finding ways to pry into her carefully guarded life, somehow invading every hour of her day with his maddening charisma.

Mara had watched him glide through lectures with ease, the students and fellow professors eating out of his hand, captivated by his calm, dark voice. Yet for some strange reason, Professor Eli Thorn decided to focus all of that energy on her. No matter what assignment she chose, no matter how tough her research, he always managed to find a way into her orbit, arranging things so he could poke her logic.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention. Her gaze sharpened as the door finally opened, the subject of her thoughts entering with that cocky, unconcerned strut that made her bite her lips and shift uncomfortably in her seat. Damn it… there it went again, that unnecessary attraction she felt every time she saw the irritating fae.

Tall and well-built, he strolled in the room, looking damn fine in a dark, brown vest over a crisp, white shirt, its sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, lean forearms tattooed with runes—signs of the ancient fae magic he possessed. His hands were also inked and full of veins, his fingers long and deft. He wore a single accessory: a silver ring set with a black opal, a powerful heirloom from his ancestors.

His face was sharply defined, clean shaven and as if crafted by an artist with an aristocratic jawline, slightly pointy ears, high cheekbones, a smirking mouth and chocolate dark skin. Eyes the color of deep green settled on her with a knowing glance. His lashes were long, his hair as black as midnight, falling to just below his jaw. Mara had noticed— completely randomly— that he often brushed it back when lost in thought or just in casual charm.

Why had that unimportant detail entered her mind again?

Clearing her throat, she returned his gaze boldly. “You are late, Professor Thorn.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk as he sat down irritatingly beside her on the sofa. “Missed me, Mara?”

“You keep calling me by my name when I’ve never given you leave to do so.”

“I know that deep down you just love it.”

Her jaw tightened. “I prefer it when people keep the professional boundaries.”

He didn’t reply and gazed at her silently, his eyes sweeping over her from head to toe, taking in her cold, almost regal stance. He lingered just a touch too long over her figure, noticed the way she tightened her thighs and he cursed himself for it. She was a creature of precision and discipline, yet at the same time, a living temptation, a dangerous mystery.

Yes, Eli thought silently, the vampiress was a vision, sitting there in a demure dark red dress that hid most of her smooth porcelain-pale skin. Yet, somehow, it managed to make her appear even more luscious, driving him mad with longing. She was tall, with generous curves and magnificent silver hair that fell in thick curls down her shoulders, reaching past her waist. Her hair was truly captivating, framing her face like a halo, emphasizing her striking blood-red eyes and lips— full bow-shaped lips, hiding her fanged teeth.

Eli had never met anyone like her. She was all prim, razor-edged disapproval and looked at him as if he were beneath her as if she'd rather drive a stake through his heart than spend another moment with him. But she also tugged at something deeper inside him, something darker within. There was a fire beneath that graceful pride of hers and he could sense it shimmering, scent her desire.

And the more he sensed that heat, the more he wanted to expose it—to shatter her walls, lay her bare, breathless and powerless, beneath, above him, in every position possible, every part of her entangled with him.

Bloody hell… he doubted he could complete the assignment after all. His defenses were crumbling. His patience snapping.

Eli swallowed back his innate craving and forced himself to focus.

"So," he said, breaking the tense silence between them. "How do you propose we divide the work, then?”

“I suggest we work separately and discuss only when necessary. I prefer my partners silent and obedient.”

Eli lounged back in his seat, his legs outstretching, arms nonchalantly folded across his chest. "Silent and obedient? Oh, Mara…" he drawled, allowing her name to slide off his lips. "It’s such a shame. I was never any good at obeying."

“Which, frankly, makes me question why I'm stuck with you.”

“Oh, poor you. But go ahead, sweetheart. Try pretending you don't want me here.”

“Enough with the useless talk. This project takes dedication and competence, I don’t want it to take forever, can we begin please?”

He grinned and stretched out with a leisurely look, obviously taking his time. "You know, judging by the fire in your eyes, it as if you wish you could make me disappear into thin air."

Eli saw her smile. Her lips curved, just a little, cute fangs peeking —and damn it, she was lovely.

“Was that a smile?” He leaned forward, his scent taunting her senses. “Pretty. Do it again.”

“Do you really think you're going to get to me with this nonsense?” she murmured, turning open her notebook in an attempt to avoid him.

He laughed. “How you wound me.”

She slammed her notebook shut and sighed. "If only.”

Another low husky laugh while he brushed his hair back and Mara couldn’t help but follow that motion. Warmth pooled in her belly and she flung herself up, quickly widening the gap between them. She hated him and his commanding, alluring energy that prickled her flesh.

No, she thought. Professor Eli Thorn was distracting and irritating. Nothing more.

Mara approached the tall bookcases but before she could grab a book, he was there, his chest pressing against her. Her notebook dropped to the floor and she clutched the bookshelf as she felt every line of his muscular chest against her back, his orangy musky scent surrounding her. He tantalized her senses, made her body tinkle in heat, liquid warmth trickling from her pussy. And yet she didn’t pull away.

“What are you— we are supposed to be looking over texts—ancient runes—”

“Hmmm,” he interrupted huskily. “It’s a project that will take a lot of work and cooperation.”

“Your games, Professor Thorne are pointless.”

“Tell me, Mara—do I get under your skin as much as you get under mine?” he drawled, his warm breath tricking her ear. He was at the end of his tether. Fuck patience. Fuck everything.

“I repeat, your games are pointless.”

“Liar.”

In a swift motion, he turned her over, his hard chest squeezing against her breasts and pressing her back against the shelves. Strong arms encircled her as she gasped and placed her palms into his chest, splaying her fingers wide to feel his muscles contract. Damn, he felt so good, so hard and unyielding, his scent wrapping around her.

“Yes, you are a liar,” he repeated, his voice husky, “you keep biting your lips, rubbing your thighs together.” He leaned down, his smirking lips inches from her own. “I can scent you, my naughty little vampiress. Your pussy must be soaked. Must be feeling so sore and needy down there, hm?”

“Is it amusing, Professor Thorne?” Mara’s voice was smooth but there was tension in her crimson eyes. “Treating me like this?”

“Amusing? Oh, absolutely.” His hands reached out, fingers burying in her silky hair. “I mean, how often do I get to see the perfect Mara Sinclair looking like she’s about to snap?“

"Release me. You're insufferable."

Mara struggled but didn’t use the full force of her strength. She could have him off of her in a few lethal movements, but she didn’t want to. She liked him exactly where he was. And he obviously liked it, too. He didn’t budge and chuckled low and deeply which both frustrated and left her breathless.

"And you enjoy every second of it, don't you? Go ahead, confess it. You pretend to hate me but you want me,” he drawled, pressing the head of his erection against her belly. “Gods, you drive me mad. I’ve wanted you ever since I looked at you.”

“If you think I’ll be drawn by your juvenile attempts at flirting, think again.“

“Oh, but you’re calling this flirting. And you know what? I believe there is a part of you that appreciates how I make you feel something other than perfect, something real."

Mara opened her mouth to reply only to have her breath shallowed by his mouth. His lips brushed against hers, tasted her before coaxing the seam apart and plunging inside. He growled at her taste, pinning her hands on either side of her head, his body pressing down on hers, his cock hard and pulsing. Nearly melting against him, Mara gave him her mouth, freely, opening at his invasion, their breaths and moans mingling. 

Eli broke apart the kiss for a second, marveling at her kiss-swollen lips. “All you have to do is let go for once.”

“So that you can break me?" Mara replied, half-dazed by the kiss.

His grin grew nasty, his green eyes flaring with something predatory. "Never. I’ll let you break me apart, sweetheart, do whatever you want with me.”

And then he was kissing her again, this time devouring her lips and letting his tongue taste her mouth. Mara felt her knees go weak and tried to pry her hands free. After a few tugs, he set her free and she hungrily roamed her hands over his body, touching his broad back, feeling up the muscles of his chest and shoulders. 

“Damn, Mara,” he groaned and gave a sharp thrust against her clothed belly. “It fucking hurts— hurts to be so hard for you.”

“Eli…” she whispered as she let her barriers fall, the carefully formed shields she had created collapsing under his touch.

“Finally, you called me by my name.”

His gaze met hers and she felt herself falling into the passionate green of his eyes, the desire simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to swallow them both. The line between desire and restraint snapped— it no longer mattered.

She was done hiding her emotions for him.

Done playing.

This one’s a bit longer than usual, so if you’re up for the full read, it’s available for free over on Patreοn. It’s open to everyone—come by and enjoy!

[osakhee]

pretty boy, sub!anton x reader

! mommy kink, some pet names, slight dacryphilia

all you did was complimenting him, yet it made anton's mind spiral into something that couldn't be stopped. it was a much innocent comment, you admired how beautiful he is. deep down you knew the blush on anton's cheeks would be more than just him being shy over the praises.

you went shopping with anton in the afternoon like a normal day-off, you both love fashion very much and showing each other the worst piece of clothe you could find might be one of your favorite activity. it always ends up with a lot of laughers and great memories, and you really treasure these times with him.

you showed anton a wide tank top once inside one of the stores and hurried him to try it on. your boyfriend is always shy about showing himself but you know the shirt would look so good on him, displaying his muscular arms from lots of swimming practices and workouts. when he went out of the changing rooms, you couldn't stop the words coming from your mouth.

"you're such a pretty boy in that."

you had a bright smile but anton immediately turned red, the faint blush creeping from his cheeks and up his ears. he ended up buying the top and you made your way out of the store together. it sounded like the start of a good time for you, impatient to go through more clothes in the mall, but anton got significantly quiet. he held your arm in his hand and walked behind you, discomfort painted on his face.

it's only when you reached your next spot that you caught on anton's change of behavior. you were looking through sweaters when you feel your boyfriend's arms surround your waist and his face nested in your neck. it was all warm and lovely until you felt how he pressed his hips into your ass, grinding on you the pretty obvious bulge in his pants. he sighed on your skin, almost breathless.

"can we please go home..."

the travel back home was really silent, anton holding on your hand for dear life as if you would disappear if he ever let go. you walked in front, dragged him around the streets to finally reach your shared apartment. your boyfriend gave you a relieved smile when you closed the door behind you, his hand naturally finding its place on the painful tent into his jeans. you pushed his hand away earning a whine from him.

"anton go to the bedroom. get ready for me, and wear the new top. can you do that baby?"

anton's mind went rushing with thoughts at your words, he got rid of his shoes quickly and disappeared in the corridor. you took your time, put away your coat and shoes, organized a little anton's things that he dropped on the floor the second he got inside your home. soon enough it was time for you to take care of your pretty boy.

you make your way to the bedroom, the anticipation building inside your chest. you know anton will be waiting for you, he's always so obedient to your every word. you push the door that's half opened and your breath catch in your throat at the view in front of you. anton is already naked, the brand new tank top going up his chest to show his toned stomach, his legs parted for you to see his hard cock that stands proudly between his thighs. you watch the transparent fluid of his precum dripping silently on his lower stomach and his muscles tense at each breath.

anton looks up to you and only whine, his eyes blurry and needy, he barely can hold it anymore. you walk up to him and sit by his side on the bed, his eyes are fixated on you and never leave you, not even when your hand makes its way down his chest.

"so that's what happened... got all worked up by my praises, right pretty boy?"

"p-please... mommy please i can't-"

"can't hold it? i know you can baby, just a little more. be good for me, hm?"

"yes mommy..."

the way he looks at you with big puppy eyes, his pink lip stuck between his teeth make you want to give in immediately. anton is wrapped around your finger, always answering to any command, on his knees for you to overpower him in all the way you want. outside the bedroom, he's still shy yet he likes to be a little more protective over you. but once the door is closed, he wants nothing but to be laying in your arms while you take care of him.

your hand reaches his thighs and you watch his cock twitch, anton grips the sheets and hold back a moan with difficulty. he needs you so badly but he never wants to disobey or do something that's against your words. you told him to try a little harder? then he'll make sure not to cum until you tell him to.

you wrap your hand around his shaft, giving a slow pump to his hard cock and this time anton can't help but whimper, his head falling back. with your free hand, you gently grab his jaw and make him to look at you. anton's chest already heaves messily, the faint muscle line on his stomach tense and the forced eye contact has him falling apart. he tries to get closer, he wants more of your touch and your lips that he craves so much but you push him back in place. "not yet", it's all that falls from your lips and you see your boyfriend take a deep breath when your hand start working on his throbbing length again.

your thumb pushes a little on the slit, your hand wraps around his tip as it draws more precum from it. the wet sensation is perfect for you to keep jerking him off, your hand easily moving on his cock. you take your time to focus on every part of him, you feel each veins under your fingers and graze your nails on the pink and sensitive head of his dick.

anton is just a mess. his voice usually soft and quiet keeps getting louder, his moans turn into cries as the pleasure courses through his body and making his head spin. he loves it when you take things slowly, he feels so appreciated, loved and cared, but today he's very much sensitive and ever more than that, he's terribly needy. shaky fingers catch your wrist and you look back at anton, it always stings your heart when you see him cry, but the tears that roll silently down his cheeks make his eyes shine even more in the dim light, he's just so beautiful to you.

"baby what's wrong? tell me."

"i-i need you... need you s-so much..."

you just wanted to hear his voice that breaks at each word and drips with lust, you already know how much anton wants you. you can feel his cock throb in your palm. your attention focuses back on his dick and your hand works a little faster, going from the base to the head of his large length to make sure he's being touched everywhere.

slowly, you lift the new tank top anton bought to reveal his chest, and attach your lips to his skin. to spend some time on his sensitive stomach, covering it with kisses while your finger draw soothing circles on the skin of his waist. you drag your mouth further up until you can roll your tongue on his nipple, your face pressing into the clothe.

anton's hips buck up into your hand more and more while you suck on the sensitive bud. his voice got quieter again, he babbles incoherent words and whimpers your name. your lips abandon his reddening nipple and you reach for his chin to make him kiss you, a slow and gentle kiss he can't even reply to as much as he wants. his breath is so ragged you can feel his lips shaking against yours. you wipe his tears away with your free hand and look at him. you both get lost in each other's eyes for a minute that seems like eternity. to you, anton is as perfect as an angel that came into your life to save it, and his beautiful face like that is only for you to see.

"you held it so well baby, such a good boy for me."

"thank y-you mommy..."

"are you close now?"

"hmhm.... so so c-close mommy please..."

"it's okay pretty boy, you can cum now."

your words are like an electric shock through anton body. you pick up the pace of your hand and give his tip more attention. your boyfriend loses himself in the pleasure he gets from you, his parted legs shaking and his whole body so tensed next to you. his hands that grip the bed find themselves around your neck, he holds you close to him, his face nuzzled on your shoulder. his cries get louder, mixed with a lot of nonsense and some words you can recognize 'thank you' and 'mommy' over and over again.

you whisper reassuring words when you feel his cock twitch, anton lets out a loud and choked sob when he cums on your hand. his hips tremble as he shoots his heavy load over your fingers and his stomach. you make sure to milk every drop he has, letting go of his cock only when his thighs stop shaking, a sign he's coming back from the heaven you sent him to.

your clean hand caresses his hair until anton's breath get more steady and calm. you kiss his head and he sits back up straight next to you, the look in his eyes being much more satisfied than before. the smile drawn on his lips make your heart feel so warm and you reach closer to kiss him, anton's hand laying on your lower back.

"thank you mommy... i love you..."

"always my pretty boy. you know i love you so much more."

you tuck a strand of anton's hair behind his ear and he shifts on the bed next to you. he gets very cuddly and sleepy whenever he cums, you invite him to lay on your chest so he can doze off while you watch him sleep so peacefully. red paints anton's face a little when he looks at you.

"i've been good so... can i please be inside of you... wanna fuck you mommy i promise i'll make you feel good..."

your smile only grows wider at his words and you push him on his back before sitting down on his lap. his already spent cock is already half hard when you grind your hips, the grip of anton's hands tight on your waist.

"we can do that. make mommy feel good."

sub anton 😔🫳🏻 i love you @antoncore this is all for you 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 thank you for the love on my works im so glad i started writing again please never hesitate to tell me what you think or send me requests i'll love to talk about it <3 wonbin is next to be posted :3

[tea-earl-grey]

sometimes you need to make a cross stitch of a niche outdated meme to feel alive and now he watches me sleep.

also if anyone wants the pattern to this for some ungodly reason then just ask and i'll post it.

[hungerpunch]

.

[bunnihearted]

🌙☁️🌌

[coridallasmultipass]

Halloween costume hint:

(The stitch marker and the word that describes this colour-pattern of yarn [or fabric] are 2 more hints.)

[katyspersonal]

It is only first month of 2024, and I've already lost not one but two subjects of nightmares, paranoia and reoccurring emotional torture. I really wish there was another way to get rid of these besides having extremely painful conversations.. but at least these scars are closing, one by one

[thethingything]

our brain's decided to freak out over shit that definitely feels ridiculous and like we're freaking out over something tiny and I can't even pinpoint why the thing is an issue but our brain clearly does not fucking like it.

but I just realised we missed some doses of one of our usual medications and from past experience that gives us wild mood swings and makes us get upset about tiny things and just have an overall shit time so I guess that explains at least some of what our brain's been doing today.

there's also just the fact that we're so overwhelmed with stress and pain and medication side effects and struggling to keep up with anything that even tiny things that wouldn't normally be an issue end up giving us panic attacks and being absolute hell to deal with.

but unfortunately I still have to deal with feeling like I'm being overly-dramatic and like people are judging me for it and it doesn't fucking help that we've already had so many instances over the last month where we've been told our triggers don't make sense and that we're too sensitive and need to just shut up and deal with things and should bottle up our emotions so other people don't have to deal with us being stressed and upset

[vampyroteuthid]

i have minor ass surgery this afternoon unfortunately (cyst) and i made the mistake of watching youtube videos of the procedure. fear

[mxwhore]

patron saint of being hot

and a lot of skill and really interesting anecdotes about your life and having professors that give me second hand anxiety bc they seem kinda awful and mean. But mainly just being hot

ty! admittedly my professors are not that bad, ive only had one bad professor that was more incompetent that awful. if you want another anecdote, ill tell you about the only teacher i truly despise to this day (on the tags, cuz its a very dark story)

ask gamerino

[sunshinexlollipops]

say what you want about weed but I truly owe her my life. not only did she help me breathe better when I had covid, she just helped me with intense sciatica pain and a strained back. it's like funbuprofen

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[todayisafridaynight]

Underrated Sibling Moment is actually mitsu being like ‘i dont want to go back to the captain alone are you insane’ after ichi fumbles the loan collection and ichi has to ditch him for a few hours and mitsu can only kill time and Not think of The Inevitable until they can go back to sawashiro together as if that’ll save them from The Inevitable like if you get it You Get How Real That Was

[running-in-the-dark]

had a conversation about gym class with my friend who I went to school with today - it was depressing but also nice to hear that her experience with it (at that particular school) was just as bad as mine.

I don't think the way my school treated gym class was entirely normal tbh. it was completely different to the school I went to after, anyway. and everyone I talked to there only knew gym class to be a pretty fun, lighthearted thing. at my old school it was only about achievement, you had to be perfect, if not you were usually yelled at. and if you couldn't participate because you were feeling a bit ill (but not enough to stay home from school) you were ridiculed and/or insulted in front of the whole class. this happened with every gym teacher we had over the whole 9 years there.

it felt like two hours of punishment, there was nothing good about it. and it made at least the both of us feel like any kind of exercise/sport, especially in a group setting, was terrifying - for years after. even my much more positive experience at the other school I went to didn't make that go away.

[lilgynt]

naturally i’m gonna be very upset at 6:09 am after an all-nighter over my brother and his actions