#the way that they experience and process and react to things is sooo similar in some ways and SOOO perfectly counterbalanced in others im

[nat-20s]

God GOD okay okay okay okay okay I'm having thoughts I'm having FEELINGS im having a Moment SO

I waanna talk about Ten and Donna (shocker I know) but SPECIFCALLY I wanna talk about like. Them and being besties and soulmatism and red string of fates and what not. Also this post is long as rambly as hell so I'm putting it under a readmore for my non-tendonna girlies <3

So like. The Runaway Bride really does establish them as future besties so so well and some of it is the writing but I do think that some of it is that Catherine Tate and David Tennant, by all available accounts, ALSO immediately got on like a house on fire. Like genuinely i know Acting TM is a thing but I think them getting on is part of why their on screen chemistry is SO electric and dazzling to the point where Donna went from a one off one episode character to *checks notes* a character that came back TWICE and also fundamentally changed the structure and DNA of Doctor Who as a whole so. You know. Pretty impressive. Plus Donna gets to have her first adventure with The Doctor as their absolute worst: Ten is grieving from a FRESH wound of losing Rose, he's incredibly cruel and incredibly cold and straight up murders the Racknoss without a flinch or hint of remorse, and even before that he accidentally kidnaps her and then insults her as someone to dismiss. That's not to say that she doesn't also see The Doctor at their brightest: he ends up treating her with incredible kindness, and he's dazzling and brilliant and cares so much and shows her the creation of the earth itself to provide comfort. However it IS to say that because of the nature of his first interaction with Donna he CAN'T put up a facade she already knows the truth!! She is walking into their dynamic with completely open eyes and at first it fucking scares her! She doesn't dislike him in fact they already are friends after less than a day but

Then partners in crime happens. And she's realized okay no actually I CAN take the bad with the good and I WANT to participate in all of it and I DO want this friendship. The Red Strings of Fate (or maybe the TARDIS being like lmaoo you need this girlie <3) bring them back together and they are Officially Tethered from that point on which is so so so delicious. It's also so so so delicious that Ten's still at an incredibly low point and she's still going into this friendship without any ruses in place. Like oh shit yeah they are Bound together even if they did separate now they would almost certainly find each other again.

AND THEN AND THEN!!! We've already established The Doctor and Donna as fast best friends but holllllyyyy shit I think Fires of Pompeii is what establishes them as forever Soulmates. I meant canonically the ending of Fires of Pompeii where she has him save the family fundamentally changed The Doctor for the rest of their lives and gave them a guiding moral compass long after she wasn't there so yeah that's pretty fuckin soulmates of them. But I actually think them as a concept of two people sharing one soul (for the better!!) happens earlier in the episode. The exact moment in fact is THIS ONE:

The Doctor has to make a choice. There are no good options: both are mass destruction and death. And it's SUCH a Doctor choice to have to make: actively destroy Pompeii and everyone in it, or allow the entire world to be destroyed. Not only that but it will likely kill both him and Donna as well. It's a mix of self sacrifice and other sacrifice to save the world and it's a horrific situation to be in.

It is a narrative that parallels the choice he made in the Time War. It is an archetypical Burden of the Doctor.

And then she looks into his eyes, sees his fear and hesitation and remorse and guilt, and wordlessly puts her hands on his. They push the lever to destroy Pompeii together. And it becomes the burden of the DoctorDonna.

[6okuto]

The way they write Mc in LL makes me die a little inside because I am so similar to Felix and if I were actually there I would be GEEKIN out about the freaking taxidermied animals and the bugs and cool shit in jars and cheesy romance novels and like dressing.. in a way. Idk. I wanted to know what ur thoughts are about how Felix would react if mc was super excited and supportive of his “weird” stuff and actively wanted to participate, or maybe.. you know. Pulled out some bones and a jar of dead bugs from their bag. Not that this is related to my real life items.. aha. Idk I wear mostly black and have bone and big jewelry and have shelves dedicated to creepy stuff so I feel like I would get along well with Felix

— felix with an mc similar to him

THATS SOOO . [HEART EMOJIS] ANON. [handshake My Man meme] if i had bones i'd carry them around in my bag smh. that's so cool you're really out here!!

this guy has never appreciated somebody more than right now.

the first time he sees you in what you'd usually wear he's like 🤨? someone like me? 🤨

he asks about your jewelry and thinks it's so cool. the first taste of the bonding that was going to happen

the scene where you first go into his room :(

you're looking around and staring and he starts panicking but then !! you're like "felix this place is so cool what the hell?" and he glitches because that definitely wasn't what he expected

he's kinda,, iffy at first because you could be pulling a terrible prank. "you don't have to lie to make me feel better. i know all of this is...odd."

but you ask about his taxidermied animals and he says "i, uh, did them myself, actually," and he can see how excited you get so now you're both excited

the things he truly enjoys? that he's been scared/insecure about sharing with people for who knows how long? being appreciated and related with? he never thought he'd be able to experience this

he takes the time to talk about anything you point out and he's so happy!! he's always wanted to infodump about all of his preserved bugs and books and taxidermy and everything else

he's the friend you can go to for very niche information. like when you email a researcher about their work because there's a paywall

imagine if like, there was species of bugs and stuff that weren't in their world and he brings up being curious about researching things from ours. oh man time to shine

"oh really? say no more" "what are you—is that what i think it is" "if you were thinking a jar of bugs, then yes." "What else do you just Have on you??"

you spend the next few hours going through and talking about it all

he'd love to hear about where you got everything, why you have specific items, what people think, etc.

"if i ever find myself in your world somehow, promise to show me your own things?" "i thought that would be obvious but of course"

i just know felix would love to know about the circles of people who would adore everything he has going on. you need to introduce him to that thought immediately

if you ever wanted to watch or help him with some taxidermy he's actually a very good teacher! unlike magic which he has a natural talent for, taxidermy was definitely a learning process so he can give instructions/tips

if you work on one together it's immediately his favourite. you should name it i think

ohh reading books together :[ the bonding that comes with reading at the same time and getting together to gush/complain/cry. he has very strong opinions on everything so be prepared

would definitely be up for reading each other's favourite novels or exchanging annotated ones if you do that

you end up making so many inside jokes that people can't even,, guess what you're talking about. you always make eye contact when something related comes up. i love telepathy

anytime one of you finds something you can add to one of your collections you both get excited. even if it's small

"look at this beetle i found outside" "hell yeah. where are you going to put it?"

the normalcy felix gets to feel with you around is so...freeing. he gets to be all giddy and excited about things without worrying about being judged and it's so !!!!!!!!!!!!

gifts go crazy. if you gave him anything he'd be grateful but then you go and get him a specific novel that he's been looking for? a piece of jewelry that matches something you have? this man feels genuinely honoured that you remembered and put that effort in

he has specific spots for anything from you on a shelf and his desk

he always tries his best to make sure you feel as comfortable around him as he does with you, and to give you gifts that are just as thoughtful

sage and anisa just watch both of you ramble without a single idea of what's going on. they didn't really expect it, but they're very appreciative that at least one person relates to their friend the way you do

[gaasaku-fanfests]

Lullaby

Title: Lullaby Author: distant-voice Rating: K Word Count: 3,947 Summary: Her song had brought him to her, her conversations had made him stay, but it was his love for her that kept him coming back. Warnings: None Author's Note(s):  This is the first AU I’ve ever written, yikes! I feel like I might have seen a similar character set up elsewhere, but I’d like to think the way my story goes is drastically different. Sorry for the mood of the story. I blame it on the song I was listening to while writing. I also played/experimented with the writing (cough)… sooo I hope my partner will find this somewhat palatable, as will anyone else who reads the story.

(Additional note: despite the AU there is canon SasuSaku. Not a GaaSaku ending. It’s one-sided. [edited])

Prompt chosen: ‘Song’ & ‘AU’ Partner: hubbie22 

The first time he hated his job a little less was when he found himself something to look forward to while on the clock. It’d become a pastime that started to occupy most of his nights, when he was supposed to be traveling far and wide to bring relief to the sleepless.

The novelty of a thing was a gratuitous find. He’d chanced upon it while roving through the small town Konoha, agilely leaping from one house roof to another against the backdrop of the glittering city lights. There was nothing remarkable about that two-story house in the nondescript neighborhood that would have caused him to pause, yet what tugged at his steps was the intangible. Through an open window from the second story, the carefree humming grew in volume and sauntered into his consciousness.

There was a special lulling effect to the song that drew him like deer to water, night after night. Like a bedtime lullaby, it stilled him from his unrest and gave him the possibility of the very thing he furnished to all yet suffered the lack thereof himself. It was the cruel irony of his profession: Along with the irreversible insomnia that his own magic couldn’t even cure, the permanent dark circles and the general irritable disposition were all—what he supposed, occupational hazards.

As he savored the notes that soothed him, without volition his eyelids drooped. A few seconds of him perching nearby stretched into minutes, then until the break of light he stayed. Before long, he’d reserved a front row seat inside the house and become an unsought patron of the solo performance.

When his inevitable curiosity first riled him to peek, the shock of pink assaulted his vision. (There was nothing lulling about that.) Eventually coming to terms with the realness of the unnatural hair color, he’d observed a girl in her adolescence. Fair complexion and slender build, she was pretty; not the kind of breathtaking beautiful, but there was sunshine in her smiles whenever she laughed to herself with that breezy voice of hers for reasons known to no one else.

Naturally, he settled himself in his routine spot and reclined against his sizable gourd, the vessel that contained the essence of his magic. With his head pillowed on his crossed arms, his seafoam eyes languidly rested on the only other occupant of the room.

Per usual, she was engaged in her nightly ritual before retiring to bed. She sang to her heart’s content, as she brushed her long locks to free them of knots. With headphones secured in her ears, she seemed no longer on earth and completely oblivious to the unseen visitor in her world.

Her song was like raindrops on the pavement, streaming waters in the forest, and the waves that crashed onto the summer beach. He didn’t understand how a mere human girl could possess the ability to purge him of his plague, but he’d forgo his pride for practicality to tolerate such dependency if it meant he could find rest for a few hours.

As he welcomed the heavy darkness that began to set in without guard, he never had the slightest concern about his trespassing presence being discovered, not even when she’d swept his end of the room plenty of times with her pair of bright eyes that reminded him of the dewy grass at sunrise...

—No, no mortal could see him, not unless he granted that privilege...

The first bit of awareness came to him earlier than usual, in an unfamiliar way too. A pleasant smell, like the aroma of freshly bloomed flowers, pervaded his dreamless realm. In the pitch black in which his mind floated, the fragrance lingered, soon making up the air he inhaled. In his sleep, he stirred as the scent made impression on his senses.

And when he gradually roused from his slumber, he thought he’d woken up to Spring, with colors of pink, red, and a smudge of green penetrating the seams of his eyelids. As he shifted to shake off the remnants of his drowsiness, a soft gasp disrupted the quiet of his surroundings. Instantly, his eyes snapped open only to be met with those distinct gem-like orbs.

For what seemed like eternity, he locked his unblinking eyes with the pink-haired girl who knelt before him. Turquoise dipped into pools of emerald, and he was caught up in absolute stillness.

Surely, she couldn't—

"I thought you might be cold sleeping on the floor."

His brain couldn’t process his shock fast enough for him to react to the plush cover that she draped around him almost premeditatively following her words. His wide stares alternated between the hesitantly smiling girl within an arm’s reach and the blanket that cloaked his body. Realization came, as he felt a surprising warmth that hugged him from shoulders down to his knees.

Somehow, he'd manifested himself in his sleep and he was no longer the phantom that left invisible footprints at many a home.

His mind surged with questions, unable to digest the possibility of his presence being made vulnerable to the naked eyes of any human.

Unbothered by his stunned state, his observer had begun to murmur, “I’ve seen you sleep here…”

So it wasn’t the first time… His forehead creased; and he stifled an expletive, appalled at the fact that he’d lost control, therefore losing a piece of his anonymity. But more than anything else, he blamed the gods for ever giving him a physical body for his stewardship.

“I wasn’t sure at first, but I figured that…” The uncertainty in her speech hauled his focus to the present, and he fixed his gaze on the girl.

“...if you’d wanted to hurt me, you would’ve done so already," she said; then like an afterthought, she added, “Right?”

"—Hey! What are you... "

Abruptly, he stood and hoisted his gourd onto his back, not acknowledging her statement or letting her finish her sentence. The blanket that’d protected his form earlier fell to the floor. With a flurry of sand, he made himself disappear from her company.

...

There was apprehension in his gait when he retraced his steps back to that particular two-story house the next time, yet it dissipated as the pink-haired host embraced his arrival without alarm, without judgment. At the creak of the floorboards under his feet, the faint smile that was directed his way was one that made him feel like he’d just come back to a home… —when he had none in reality, living like the vagabond he was. And he no longer had the need to conceal himself in front of her.

He’d never admit, though, that his intrigue only grew since then. Those foreign gestures from her had moved him from within, and the need to experience had prevailed over his pride or logic that told him to keep away.

"You are a ghost," she declared, making her rounds of silly assumptions at his true identity. The two of them plopped on the ground by her desk, and he was the subject of her scrutiny.

He shook his head.

She pouted. Jutting a finger into her chin, she ventured another guess.

"Are you…” She leaned just a little closer, and her green eyes lit up. “Cupid?"

Again his head swayed from left to right, this time in a petulant manner. His brows pinched together, and he folded his arms across his chest in that default posture of his. Sure, that path might have been what the fickle gods had planned for him at his conception; the “love” branding on his forehead and his fiery red hair explained it all. But it wasn’t long before everyone in the heavens realized that his temperament made him unfit for the job, and he’d been demoted…

Not that he minded much, for he considered his current stint the lesser of the two evils.

"That's too bad then. I was hoping you could help me with a boy," she giggled, unaware of the annoyance that’d flashed over his features at the recall of an irksome memory.

"What's your name?"

"Gaara."

He uttered before he could catch himself. His voice, hoarse from centuries of unuse and almost like that of a sickly man, was strange even to himself. Then he resorted to his usual muteness right away, perplexed at how this girl could command this kind of response out of him.

"Gaara…” she echoed thoughtfully. Somehow, his name on her lips sounded right.

The line of her mouth curved upward, and she indulged him with yet another smile of hers that was etched in the depth of his mind. “I'm Sakura."

Sakura… Her name looped in his head. He nodded. How apt.

...

He never thought he’d find a destination in his aimless journeys through the seasons. He never thought that he’d find something earthly that would seize his interests in his stale timeless existence.

He didn’t care if Sakura sang less these days and instead let him have a slice of her life through her chitchats. Her songs had drawn him to her and allowed him to sleep; but truly it was her words that made him stay and gave him peace, perhaps because of the way she’d talked to him that made him feel… accepted.

"Ugh, I'm so stupid! Why did I cut my hair? Sasuke-kun is not going to like it."

Her voice carried over the tune that played in his ears from the earphones she’d lent him earlier. Slouched against the foot of her bed, he cracked his eyes open to witness the melodrama unfold from her, as she obsessively adjusted the red ribbon in her hair and played with the ends of her pink tresses that barely grazed her shoulders.

She spied on him in the reflection of the mirror. “What do you think?”

Her fingers still tangled in the strands of her hair, and she slanted her head in his direction. “Is it nice?”

Without hesitation, he gave an affirmative nod. Expectantly, he dropped his sight to the corners of her lips that lifted. He thought to himself that she was really too generous with her smiles, and he was too greedy for it…

…

Through the seasons and all the ups and downs, his eyes never strayed long from those flamboyant colors of pink, red, and green. Even in the sea of forgettable faces that crowded the schoolyard during the day, she’d always stood out to him, with her shining hair waving in the wind, her graceful movements, and her radiant laughter under the midday sun.

He didn’t let Sakura know that he’d followed her to school on the days he didn’t give two hoots about his job, which was more oft than not. From the roof of the school building, he watched as she surrounded herself with her circus of friends, and he didn’t think he’d ever be fascinated by the mundane.

Naruto, Lee, Ino… he knew about them from her narratives, but it was from his direct observations such as now that he matched the names to the personalities. He was between amused and troubled at Naruto’s bouts of rambunctious energy. He’d grunt at Lee for his mannerisms around her that were too friendly for his comfort. And he’d scowl whenever she and Ino huddled in their corner to whisper about what was apparently the object of affection of every girl in their grade:

Sasuke Uchiha…

And the source of all of Sakura’s petty afflictions, as he’d come to learn. With as simple as a flick of his fingers, he could knock the ignorant boy into a coma to never wake up. But just because he didn’t want to see Sakura shed any more precious tears over the undeserving twit didn’t mean he would refrain from inadvertently blowing a gram of sand his way. He’d rather enjoyed the scenes where the baffled teen woke up to the frown from the schoolmaster and a classroom full of jeering laughter.

When the head of pink bobbed toward the dark-haired youth who stood in solitude by the edge of the schoolyard, he narrowed his jade eyes. He tore his attention from the pair and instead let it land on the bulge in his pant pocket. Then fishing the item that’d filled the space, he studied it—the wrapped chocolate that Sakura had made and given him the night before Valentine’s Day, a deformed lump of thing that she insisted was the shape of a heart.

Being the entity he was, he had no need for any sustenance, yet he couldn’t resist biting into the dark perfection that melted on his tongue…

That night he was surprised to find her with her face buried in her pillows, her miserable sobs muffled by them. A lonely bag of chocolates sat on her nightstand. With wariness, he set his gourd down and approached her, yet he wavered at the edge of the bed. Sensing him, she twisted to her side. With her teary red eyes, she regarded him and the unsure hand that’d stopped a palm’s width from her. And on his behalf, she reached out and closed that gap built of uncertainty.

"Stay with me, please?"

From her plea he could feel her warm breath on him, as she held him. Little by little, his rigid body became accustomed to the contact and he relaxed. He lost tracks of the hours they remained this way, but he was relieved that her quivering had ceased and the wet trails on her face had thinned to a trickle.

In a hushed tone, she started, "I know what you are..."

Curiously, he angled his head toward her. He’d thought she’d given up on trying to uncover his mystery long ago.

"You are my guardian angel."

Her whisper tingled his skin, like a tender brush of hand that he couldn’t see. Upon her unexpected words, he widened his eyes at her. The smile that blossomed from the depth of her sadness to the surface was one that touched him profoundly.

And that was the first time he’d been called something other than Gaara the Sandman…

…

The punishment from the displeased gods was likely long-time coming, given how much he’d been shirking his responsibilities. The thousand whiplashes, followed by imprisonment for the better of a decade, were nowhere as punishing as the restlessness that gnawed his insides while he felt himself rotting away in the dungeon. Still, the worst of the torment was what awaited him when he gained his freedom again, at that two-story house in Konoha that’d been his rest stop from years past.

Sakura was gone.

In her dark empty bedroom, he stood. Her songs, her words, her smiles, her warmth—every trace of her was now but a fragment of his recollection. Along with the first and only person who’d ever acknowledged him and gave him significance, the meaning of his existence faded into oblivion. Once again, he was a ghost to the world.

Then he was looking, always looking. But the world was vast, and she left him no clues in his vain search. The nights in isolation were long, and he passed every single one of them, painfully awake. The bitterness and anger over the abandonment was mounting, but it all paled by comparison to his fear that such a fragile human had already ceased to exist.

Yet, with false hope, he’d always end up at the starting point day after day.

Winter, summer, fall, then came again spring… In his journeys, his footsteps had become cumbersome, weighed down by all the corrupt emotions that the gods have subjected him to at his creation. Without his anchor, he’d gotten lost, and the burning desire in him was nothing but a dying flame.

Then in the dead silence of a fateful night, the melody suddenly pierced through, jolting him out of his numbness. The dulcet tune from his distant memory was one that he’d heard countless times but never enough. It ebbed and flowed faintly in the atmosphere but resonated deeply within him, rekindling the embers of hope.

He broke into a run. The glow emitting from the house at the end of the street was the most brilliant, like the north star that guided him in the dark void. Each hurried step was light but unsteady, as every fiber of his being trembled with anticipation.

At the window where the light shone through, he came to a halt. The chorus continued to flow, louder and deeper. As he spotted the shade of rose through the window panes, so did his insides flutter violently. She was taller; there were more curves to her body. With the full head of pink, there was no mistake, even with his view limited to her back from his angle.

All the bleak thoughts he’d harbored all these years were forgotten, as the impatient need to see her face and her smile propelled his feet forward. But he fell short in his determination when a pair of onyx eyes popped over Sakura’s shoulder and darted in his direction, and he almost had the impulse to dodge out of sight.

“Good night, Sarada.”

She ended her song, as she settled a small child from her arms into bed. Her lips parted the child’s black hair and met her forehead in a loving tender kiss, drawing his eyes to the face of the young one. Just then he realized he wasn’t the audience that her lullaby had meant for.

“Nighty, Mama.”

Sakura had an offspring of her own… The resemblance was uncanny, and one name rooted in his mind like weeds.

In the next fortnight, he respected their distance but stayed close, lacking the resolve on how to approach when the currents of her cries rippled through the night air. It was always after the lullabies that Sakura retreated to her old bedroom, drowning in her own unspoken sorrows that she’d kept hidden from her young daughter. These nights she was as awake as he was, as alone as he was. The tears were incessant, and he was desperate to understand why.

Finally, he willed himself out of the shadows, unable to bear the pattern he’d let himself fallen into, with him always watching on the sidelines and his longing reined back. From one end of the bedroom where half-unpacked boxes were stacked haphazardly, he manifested himself. In such proximity, his chest tightened, and jitters pulsed through him in unrelenting waves. This nervousness was unlike him.

His desire conquering his instance of timidity, he purposefully shuffled his feet to cause her head to lift from her cradled knees. The pair of glistening green eyes underneath furrowed brows connected with his, and the beats of his palpitating heart reverberated in the quietness of the space.

So many questions he wanted to ask and so many explanations he wanted to demand, yet he found no voice as all the droning thoughts in his head clamored against one another to want to be heard first by the one who’d left him behind.

"Who are you?"

Her voice, it was different now but familiar, nostalgic… yet lethal, giving him no time to dwell on its change in pitch before pummeling him with those words.

In his denial, he yearned to bring himself closer. Another step, however, only warranted her warning.

"Don’t—don’t come any closer!"

He shattered this time. What devastated him more than her harsh imperative was the fear in her countenance, and he could feel himself sink. Shaking, he was struck by his own brittle emotions.

This feeling, one that cut him so deeply, was one that he knew all too well.

Ten years was not long enough to forget someone in his books…

So he cursed the gods, cursed them for having ever made him the god of love, even for the briefest period in history; for ever giving him a physical vessel burdened with all the mortal wants, so he could empathize with those he was foreordained to unite…

And for ever making him know of love...

With alarm, she fumbled in her position. The ruffling of papers that scattered about in her bed from her movements caught his attention. As he gave a distracted once-over at the bold texts on the white sheets, he could connect the dots on his own with the characters he made out: divorce… Uchiha…

He averted his gaze right then and there from the glaring fonts and instead laid it on her once more. With an ounce extra of effort, he chose to pass beyond the guardedness that wouldn’t evaporate from her tear-stained face and took in the details of her features. The innocence that was there in her youth had been chiseled away by the evident stress and fatigue of adulthood. The pink of her hair had visibly dimmed to a muted tone, so did the washed-out greens of her eyes. The sleep deprivation was taken its toll on her appearance. With the heavy bags under her tired eyes, she was beginning to look a lot like himself.

What a shame, she’d become just like the rest of them, with their nightly tossing and turning driven by their miseries.

But even if she’d been dealt an unfair hand by fate, her beauty would persist—this was what he still wanted to believe.

His hand waved in one fluid motion, and he had to steel himself against the panic that brimmed her expression. Sand slithered out from the opening of the gourd on his back. As the golden dusts floated in the air, catching the overhead ceiling lights and shimmering, she seemed unable to deny the fascination that eventually surfaced from her. The specks danced across the space between him and her; then in a swift swirl they rained over her.

Not even a second passed, and her eyelids shuttered. His sand rushed to balance her free-falling body before easing her onto her back. Her chest rose and fell with each steady breath. As he watched the last of her tears spilled from the corners of her closed eyes onto the pillow, he was sure the darkness that cradled her now would release her from all the worries of the world, even if it might only be temporary.

As she slept, he was finally able to bring himself closer to her side. Yet he felt the distance between them had never been greater.

So close they were, yet so far apart, as the one before him only saw a stranger in him…

Another twirl of the wrist, the sand amassed in his palm, molding and shaping itself at its master’s bidding. The open umbrella in his hand now was one that he didn't care to use for the longest time. As he held it over her sleeping form, his fingers tightened around the handle. The pictures that his magic allowed to project onto the underside of the canopy were his fondest memories of his time spent with her, the same ones that he relived in his head all these lonely years.

A part of him still hoped that their shared dream would make her remember… But her smile at him upon waking up might just be his wishful thinking.

The aches inside him throbbed without mercy. Regardless, he was firm in his newfound resolution, as he remained at her bedside.

So he'd watch over her until dawn, until the future, always and forever, to make sure she'd always sleep at night, free of any anguish; and to rid her of the demons that had stolen her sleep.

If nothing else, this was the least he could do, as her “guardian angel”:

"Sweet dreams, Sakura..."

[hadissima]

Okay when has it become a competition of how many foods your body processes well or not?

I've been talking with a friend about getting dessert and I was like, there's this yogurt peach cake it looks sooo delicious but I just can't get it. Normally I would have risked it, but I hadn't eaten anything else all day, and I know from experience my empty stomach doesn't react well to so much dairy.

Cue this one person asking questions why and then telling me that they never have any problems processing food at all. Fatty foods, loads of milk, any time of day. Also being really dismissive about it, treating me like I'm making this up. Well I'm sorry I can't help it? Also how is it in any way your problem???

Later that day our group went out for dinner, and I got a dish with cheese (well I've deserved it for resisting that cake 🤷‍♀️). Some people got ice cream and I was like aw that looks really good! And immediately this person was onto my again and really wanted me to get ice cream?

I remember them being a bit similar when someone brought a drink with strawberries (which I can't have either). Why not just accept a "no thanks can't eat that"? It doesn't hurt you if I refuse it, but it can hurt me if I accept? And why is it so important that your body is better at some things than mine? How is that something to brag about?

Sorry for this long and weird rant but really, leave me to handle my food intolerances the way I want, and think it best for my body.

[valerepoet]

That reblog's got me thinking. I work with The Kid, who's 18. Like, he is a kid to me. And he's had such a rough fucking life man i really feel a lot of compassion and respect for him. Despite the shit he's been through, he still holds onto a sensitivity towards others and i'm so proud of him.

He was in the foster care system for a good portion of his life, and what little he has told me, his time with his actual parents was worse. He's very crass and doesn't understand certain boundaries and signals very well - but he's sooo open to learning. He's got an edge to him that is very offputting to most people. I understand his intention, becaude lo and behold, i have too much experience with crass and difficult people. I can see in him that he's just plain old not understanding how he is coming across, because he would otherwise not to be that way. As soon as he realizes that he's hurt someone's feelings or made someone uncomfortable, he apologizes and acknowledges that he now understands what he said was wrong. He's sensitive to other people. Sometimes, despite some of his lack of social understanding, too much so. I think he may have learned quick that if he didnt want to get hurt he should apologize and deprecate himself as quickly as possible. Almost contradictory, but i find that trauma tends to inspire such a nature in people.

There's a lot of things about him that im starting to understand.

Ultimately he is a good kid and he does mean well. He does seem genuine and he can be very sweet. He's open minded and he pays attention when he's learning a new social cue, especially about boundaries. He's 18, so he's right at the age where i, and several other mentally fucked up people i knew, really started to understand the concept of boundaries. So i understand a bit what his processes are. I hope so at least. He's a young adult, formally acknowledged as a legal adult in some ways, and its a very, very formative time, mentally. Its a huge period of transition for him, of course. So boundaries very quickly become an important thing your brain realizes it needs to fully understand.

I remember how i was. I made a few minor mistakes and i learned from them, did research and actively pursued an understanding in boundaries. Its something i still struggle with due to my issue with understanding implicit cues. And ite still something i put work into, so its not an experience that is just in my past and im now disconnected with. Some of the way i react and learn, i can see in The Kid. So i think i can understand him a bit.

He's very smart. Obviously, he doesnt think so. Its a shame, cause he's very perceptive, even with his struggle with social cues. He's also not used to someone expressing genuine appreciation, interest, and pride in him and his well being. And that hurts my heart. While i was training him, i made sure to vocalize that i was indeed proud of him and how he was doing and he was soo uncomfortable with that at first. He just wasn't used to it at all, it seemed. I did feel like it was an important thing to stick to, cause he deserved to be shown that sorta respect and acknowledgement. He's definitely acclimated to it and he feels comfortable enough to come to me with his concerns about work.

And sometimes i just want to smother him in hugs, the way i do for my brother. My brother lived with my dad for several years, and had almost no physical contact with him during that time. Once he moved back in with us, he struggled to acclimate back to the constant physical affection that me, my mom and my sister show. After all these years now though, my brother cant get enough of it. So my brother will just lay in his bed, upset at something and i just get the terrible urge to lay on him and give him a bear hug, which i then proceed to do. I really dont feel that urge for anyone else. Im otherwise not fond of touching people outside of my family.

But i just want to give The Kid i work with all these bear hugs and goddammit i just wanna make sure he's okay. But i obviously dont, cause Boundaries are important, and its probably not something he could cope with right now. But its made me realize that he's really made an impression on me and i just want to show him that there are some people willing to be there for him.

He struggles with understanding boundaries, but he has his own very hardset boundaries, and i can recognize it in his physical expression. And im proud of him. He isnt aggressive, but he is sure in his boundaries and i am so damn proud of him for that.

So, im respecting his boundaries and he's slowly letting me in. He's comfortable with back pats now and im glad he trusts me thet much.

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Time break up above. Holy shit. The Kid was closing tonight, and he called me multiple times and his last call he sounded frantic it was obvious he needed help. So, without telling him, i booked my ass to the store and i calmed him down and helped him close the store. Im so fucking sore and tired, but im glad he's okay. He is so hard on himself goddamit. When he starts talking about the shit he missed and how much trouble he'll be in, he wont listen to anyone trying to tell him to stop and that its okay. He just gets scared of getting in trouble.

Kid has had a rough life man. And man, im sorry he's had that.

He expressed gratitude this time when i helped him. Before, he expressed embarrasment and disappointment in himself, but this time he didnt. He told me 'thank you' with a pretty relieved smile. Im glad he trusts me enough to express that.

My mom teases me that im practically trying to adopt him as my little brother, and i am amused by it, but also somewhat uneasy. I have issues. Serious issues. I'm self aware of what my mental issues consist of, but i still struggle with being aware of how to catch when it is happening. I really dont think im the best role model, or the best person to give literally anyone on this earth any level of stability. I can barely take care of myself. So im uneasy with how my compassion for The Kid is becoming.

He's really touched my heart to be honest, and i hope, from the bottom of my heart, that things get better for him and he starts to experience and maintain stability.

But i know from past experience, that im the Wrong Person to come to for that. I can be a good co-worker, that is an absolute certainty. Beyond that? I honestly cant trust myself. But i just want the best for the kid, and i do want to help him and develop a positive friendship with him. I just am not sure how much i can do really. I worry about that. My mental functionality is pretty much fucked in a lot of ways and getting worse overtime, when it comes to taking care of myself.

Maybe im overthinking it. I probably am. But i have a hard time not doing so, with all my past experiences with people. Im unfortunately one of those people who used to give all of themselves to take care of others mental state. And it really, really fucked me up. I cant say im nice anymore. I dont make deep friendships anymore because i know how ive been in every past one. I give too much of myself. And it becomes a mess.

I dont think the Kid is one to take advantage of people. I think he may be similar to me in that aspect, to be honest, but im not sure. Idk, this Kid has just really, really made an impression on me and i genuinely want the best for him. I just worry about being a bad role model and being unable to moderate my issues enough. This kid is going through so much and i dont want to be an added messy figure in his life.

Its hard caring about other people.

Sorry about the long rambly post, i just have a lot of thoughts and feelings. Im not used to someone making such a quick impression on me.