#this is so bad i wrote this at 12 am

[mike-cher]

— Latibule ◌

︶ིྀᩧ a veritas ratio x GN!reader

author's note: this is like my first time writing in a WHILE please bear w me (　³﹏³ ).｡o (i said to myself id make my first post aa related but i fear ratio has come back to haunt me)

genre: trinkets and collectibles

tw: none !

Veritas Ratio was not a very emotional man to the crowd's eye. The average onlooker with no real ties to the scholar would dismiss him as a prideful man who views himself galaxies above others due to his intelligence.

Veritas Ratio was not a rash man by any means. He often turns to the more calm and logical manner of solving his problems, scoffing at the face of idiocy of his peers.

Veritas Ratio didn't know when he began to feel this way. Perhaps it was in the little ways they manage to wriggle themselves into his schedule. Or maybe it was the irrational moment of finding solace in his.. coworker. During a rather embrassing overstimulated breakdown of his.

Veritas Ratio noticed the way that he— almost instantaneously— relaxes in their presence. Be it simply them lounging around doing Nous knows what in his office as he grades papers; to them accompanying him on his scheduled lunches and early morning jogs.

It wasn't long until they, utterly and irreversibly, wormed their way into his daily routine; falling into subconscious tandem to one another as they go about their usual tasks. "Ah," one might think, "does this not contradict the image of the esteemed scholar"

Perhaps.

Which is exactly why the 'cruel' professor prefers to show his affections within his latibule, where the man can feel most at home with his dearest.

[astrum99]

Do you think bugs fall in love?

Their small bodies host even tinier brains. Built to crawl through soil and rocks bigger than itself. Running on a simple software bouncing between eat, sleep, fight, flight, and copulate.

V1 is smarter than a bug. It must be. It’s a war machine, so it must be. Its programming is complex enough to fry several motherboards; the internals are heated from constant, unrelenting processing needs. If it updates its optical data intake to any greater degree than these rough, messy polygons, it’d surely perish from the overwhelming information.

V1 is built to kill first, survive second. To be fair, survival would ensure more killing, so it’d be more effective. Moving through the battlefield, culling lives, drawing blood. Perfectly aligned with its programmed objectives, then.

Gabriel is smarter than a bug. He must be. He’s an angel, so he must be. He’s one of the best soldiers in the heavenly realm. Armour and swords glistened with pride and justice. He sees all. He judges all. His loyalty and perfect track record have earned him a high rank within the order. Leaving behind the creaturely "it". His light burns hot and bright within his constitution.

Gabriel is built as a messenger of the Father, then a judge of Hell. To be fair, the role of a judge was assigned to him by the council, so he supposes that his placement can be summed up as the bearer of the divine authority to bring right to all other creatures. Perfectly aligned, then.

Bugs… Well, they’re the same. I suppose. Small beings. Running pre-programmed orders derived from centuries of evolution: eat, sleep, fight, flight, and copulate. No role. No responsibilities.

Bugs are built naturally and fully, unlike humankind; but formed and ready to go within seconds from their births, like machines and angels.

So. Do they live?

When the machine and the angel escape their chains, do they see themselves in bugs?

Bugs are born to live, temporarily, fleetingly, yet live nonetheless. Do they, then, deserve to live, freeing and meaninglessly. No role. No responsibilities.

So. Do bugs love?

Do they learn that they can go beyond their basic structures? Do they see their own reflection in each other’s compound eyes? Do they recognize each other’s bodies, scents, heat? Do they feel the desire for closeness?

To flutter wings like a dance of waltz. To brush antennae like butterfly kisses. To greet and caress and lie next to each other near their death.

To move through the sky in battle, in passion. To clash swords and fists and bullets. To greet and caress and lie next to each other near their death.

The same cells in the same blood coursing beneath the same suit of exoskeletons.

Machine, angel, bug. Boiled down to the barest essence of existence; crisp simplicity.

To live, to love.

[cubtales]

CUBBIE MORNIEEE ! ! ദ്ദി＞ᴗ＜)🎀✧ ilu all ! happy friday ! ! may this weekend treat you all lovingly !

[kohakhearts]

cons of going to a “good schoolTM”: insane workload, unbearable classmates, next to no support when you have any kind of extenuating circumstances Including literal hospitalization, etc

pros of going to a “good schoolTM”: the 9-5 lifestyle is genuinely a major improvement

[aria0fgold]

Whumptober day 12 prompt: Insomnia

Characters: Ray, Alec Ages: 18, 20

Ray yawned for what felt like the hundredth time that night, swarmed with schoolwork he had been putting off for days and now he only has a couple of hours left until all of it is due. He yawned again, leaning back into his chair and wiping away tears he wasn't even sure was from all his yawning or not.

He let out a long sigh, stared at the ceiling for awhile before lightly slapping himself to get back to work. He brought the chair closer to the desk, propping up his chin on his hand as he looked at what he has left to finish. There were still some essays to be written, a couple of worksheets to be answered. Ray looked at the time on his laptop, 4 am, he looked to the side of the desk, littered with cans of energy drinks and two empty cups of that once had coffee with several shots of espresso inside.

Ray groaned as he carelessly dropped his head on the desk with a thud. Why couldn't he have gradually worked on these things like most of his classmates had done? They were given weeks! And yet here he is, doing weeks' worth of work in just hours, like a failure. Can't he even go a single month without being a disappointment to the people around him?

Ah, but he has. Every month. Ray gritted his teeth, grabbing his hair tightly. He thanks his parents for insisting on that acting class, it was all he has going for him now. Acting. A skill he uses every single day. No one knows how bad of a failure he truly is, no one knows how much of a disappointment he can be. Every day he puts on a mask that no one can see through, and every day he struggles to even do something as simple as waking up in the morning and sleeping at night.

He isn't as great as he presents himself to be.

Ray suddenly felt someone grab his hands, he flinched at the touch and quickly raised his head it made his vision spin a bit. Alec stood beside him with a small frown.

“You're gonna hurt yourself.” He spoke in a slightly monotone voice, something that had been the case for years now. Ray sometimes miss the voice Alec had before that incident, when it was so full of emotion.

“Ah, sorry.” Ray chuckled.

Alec looked at the papers cluttered all over the desk, he tilted his head, “Do you need help?”

“Ah… No, not really…” Ray was unsure how to answer that.

“You need rest.”

Ray let out a small laugh, “Not yet, I need to finish these today.”

There was a beat of silence, until a small voice broke it before it went on for long, “I'm worried about you.”

Ray looked at Alec, his childhood best friend, who had become empty and emotionless, yet there are times where he shows such rare genuine emotion, Ray couldn't possibly ignore it. In the end, he can't really win against those puppy eyes, can he?

Ray let out a sigh, with a mixture of emotion he couldn't recognize at that moment, “I guess… I do need help after all.”

There was always one person that sees through such an act.

[maraczeks]

+

[lanegritaalma]

If you ain’t never had a God/Universe ordained squirt, were you really manifesting ??? 🤔

[lilislegacy]

So here’s the thing: Percy is my guy. I’ll defend him till the day I die. I adore everything about him, and you guys know that. So this post might shock you because I’m about to call the fuck out of him.

I am so SICK of receiving ask after ask after comment after ask about Annabeth being the only goddamn issue in their relationship, meanwhile Percy gets made out to be some saint. You want to call out Percabeth? You want to be all heroic and talk about bad behavior? Allow me to join you! Let’s fucking talk about it!

The number one thing people complain about in their relationship: Annabeth making jokes about his intelligence. But let’s actually talk about this: we all know Percy is extremely intelligent, but why are we so hellbent on denying it when he DOES act like an idiot most of the time? Like, why is Percy saying things like he can’t tie his shoes or phrasing stuff to Annabeth like an 8-year-old when he’s nearly a grown adult? And now tell me this. Why is it always on ANNABETH to translate and explain everything when we know Percy can figure stuff out for himself? Why is it always on ANNABETH to make the plan? Why is it always on ANNABETH to figure out how to fix things that Percy and Grover usually messed up? 

After Wrath of the Triple Goddess, I spent so much time being angry at how Rick wrote Annabeth bossing Percy around. But then I took a step back and realized: it’s because he also writes Percy as always being so heavily reliant on Annabeth when she’s there. Instead of asking, “Why is Annabeth acting like his mom?” why isn’t anyone ever fucking asking, “Why does Annabeth feel like she HAS to act like his mom?” Because she doesn’t act that way with people like Thalia, Jason, or Reyna. So why is her boyfriend putting her in a position where she feels like she has to explain everything to him and tell him what to do?

You know, in The Demigod Diaries, Annabeth says she’s always known Percy isn’t dumb and that he’s actually very intelligent—but that he just ACTS super dumb. Then she says she thinks Percy does it just to annoy her. Annabeth has called Percy smart on several occasions—including one of my favorite moments in MoA where she calls him brilliant and kisses him—and yet she still makes those comments about his intelligence. So considering all that, let's think about it. Have you ever met someone who’s super smart but acts so dumb that they actually convince themselves they’re dumb? It’s infuriating. So imagine how that must feel to a daughter of Athena. And don’t you dare go, “Well, it’s because of Percy’s childhood and his abuse…” because Annabeth is ALSO fucked up from her childhood and suffered from abuse, but that doesn’t ever excuse HER, I guess. So why does Percy get a pass? 

Oh right, I forgot: because we must always blame the woman for “nagging” and “being controlling.” Silly me for forgetting.

It’s ALWAYS “God Annabeth is so controlling all the time” and NEVER “how come Percy puts Annabeth in a position where she always HAS to take charge and keep things under control?” How come he low-key DOES act dumb and useless (and then complains about it) when they both know damn well he can be smart and resourceful when he wants to? Let me guess. “He’s insecure 😔😔.” YEAH, NO SHIT, SHERLOCK. So being insecure makes it all okay? Because Annabeth NEVER gets that benefit of the doubt. Or let me guess, “It’s Rick’s fault for writing him that way” okay cool, well then it’s ALSO Rick’s fault for writing Annabeth the way she is. You don’t get to pick and choose.

(Quick pause—does anyone else feel like Rick finally started writing Percy as a confident, secure, and assertive person in Heroes of Olympus—and found it so refreshing—only for Percy to regress back into his self-hating, insecure 12-year-old self again in the new books? Because it’s infuriating to me that he lost that character development. Anyway… resuming discussion.)

People are always so worried about Percy feeling inferior in their relationship, but never about Annabeth feeling frustrated when Percy doesn't act like the equally contributing partner that she knows he can be (and that he is a lot of the time). I mean, we know from her POV in MoA that Annabeth tends to feel like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders and has to figure things out for everyone else. And that she feels useless sometimes because everyone else, especially Percy, has all these amazing powers, and all Annabeth has to contribute is her knowledge. And yet, when she "shows off" with her intelligence, it's a "superiority complex?"

And another hot topic: Anti-Percabethers are always talking about Annabeth “bullying” and “physically abusing” Percy. (Despite him never feeling pain, flinching, or even expressing an ounce of discontent—in fact after she judo-flipped him, he laughed and smiled). And yet they never seem to want to talk about the fact that Percy has made Annabeth cry and been extremely insensitive to her on several occasions. And you wanna talk about physical violence? Let’s talk about how Sally, Paul, and Annabeth were all extremely nervous and tense when telling Percy that Sally was pregnant. You know why? It’s explained that they’re scared because his temper is brutal and they never know how he’s going to react—because he previously blew out the pipes of the entire apartment building when he got upset about something. How come everybody is SO worried about Annabeth playfully smacking his shoulder and him not caring, but NOBODY wants to talk about the fact that Annabeth is scared of making Percy mad because he can’t fucking control his temper or keep the world around him from blowing up? This is the guy who’s been kicked out of military schools for fighting. This is the guy who’s thrown his skateboard into a wall out of rage. This is the guy who got so mad at a goddess that he got pleasure out of torturing her. I’m not saying he’s wrong for any of that, but I am saying that Annabeth has never once done something like that.

Let’s talk about Piper’s perspective of him. I used to hate Piper because she was critical of Percy, but then I grew up. She is one of the few people who actually gives us an unbiased view of him, and you know what she says? She says she doesn’t know how Annabeth deals with Percy because Annabeth is constantly having to keep him under control. Annabeth keeps him from attacking/yelling at Leo after the canon incident. She has to diffuse his stupid, pointless “who’s is bigger” competition with Jason. She’s not there to keep him from pissing off Bacchus, and Percy rapidly escalates the situation and nearly screws them all over. I mean, in Wrath of the Triple Goddess, she had to tactfully handle him after Grover drank the strawberry potion because Percy was so angry that he was literally shaking (and btw Annabeth had to figure out the plan to fix everything that time, too). When she’s not there, Percy talks back to gods and superiors and gets everyone around him into bad situations with his temper and disobedience. Annabeth CONSTANTLY has to calm him down and keep him from losing his shit. Do you know how exhausting that must be??

So tell me—why is the blame ALWAYS on the woman here? Why is Percy made out to be some poor, abused wittle baby being picked on by big bad Annabeth? He’s a big boy. A grown man now, even. He is the most powerful demigod alive. He can fucking take care of himself, and so can Annabeth.

If you don’t want to like Percabeth? That’s fine. If you don’t want to like Annabeth? That’s fine. But STOP making it out as if Annabeth is the only one who causes problems in their relationship and Percy is completely innocent. Percy is just as bad—arguably worse, actually. Because despite everyone saying how bad Annabeth is to Percy, he never actually gets hurt, scared, or offended by her. Meanwhile, Annabeth HAS cried because of Percy’s words AND has been scared of him and his temper. So… what the FUCK?? How is Annabeth the one being villainized here??

Now, I can actively defend every single thing Percy has done. I love him for his flaws and they make him such a complex character. And I can do and say the same thing about Annabeth, but for some reason that’s “excusing bad behavior.” I love them both and think they are extraordinary people who’ve been dealt really crappy hands. They deal with things the best way that they can in the moment. But they BOTH mess up and hurt each other, and they BOTH have things to work on. They are very flawed characters, and we can point out and discuss those flaws while also being fond of those flaws because it makes them more realistic. 

Now, some of you might be thinking, “Lili, I thought you loved Percy and Percabeth.” I do. I love them so much that I pretty much have a whole blog dedicated to them. But I don’t love them because I think they’re perfect. I love them because, despite being extremely flawed, they make each other better. They love each other unconditionally. They build each other up and protect each other in the darkest of times.

They are best friends. They are battle partners. They are lovers. They are warriors. They are heroes. They are EQUALS. But they are NOT perfect. Not even a little. And their ability to overcome and work through those imperfections together is what makes them so extraordinary.

And yet, when Percy plays dumb, it’s blamed on Rick’s bad writing and excused as him being insecure because of his abuse. When Annabeth calls him out for it and jokes about it, she gets called an awful person who doesn’t value him. And when Percy loses his temper and acts out and gets everyone into bad situations, he’s excused because he inherited Poseidon’s temper and he can’t help it. But when Annabeth is extremely prideful and acts like she’s smarter than other people (which she inherited from Athena) she’s a selfish bitch who thinks she’s better than anyone else? 

How does that make any fucking sense? 

If you want to criticize Percabeth, criticize both of them. But don’t keep doing this “selective reading” bullshit so you can see Annabeth as the villain when she spends half her life cleaning up Percy’s messes and taking care of him. Percy is extraordinary and I adore him, but he is not a “saint” for “dealing with Annabeth.” He is damn lucky to have her, just like she's damn lucky to have him. 

Either be honest about both their flaws and cut it out with the double standards, or don’t bother pretending you care about the truth at all.

[lunarcowgirl]

lean with me | two

yeah yeah i wrote another part for my fuckass jack abbot x f!doctor!reader fic <3

read part one here and part three here

not my gif! but i do feel crazy about it!!!!!

~

jack abbot made a damn fool of himself in front of the one person he desperately wants to rely on him, now he's got to hope you'll let him fix it.

~

from the office of the author: damn! ya’ll got me feeling some kind of way in the comments and reblogs, I didn’t look at tumblr all day after part one scared it would have no notes 🥹 thank you so so much for your kind words!!!!! ideas for these two are currently eating out my brain like a terrible infectious disease, so expect more soon xoxoxoxo

also, if by chance you have requests/ideas/thoughts drop me an ask, you’d warm the freezing cockles of my heart <3

warnings: age gap of 10+ years, old man is a goose, the weather is shit in pittsburgh but i am from the southern hemisphere so i don’t understand how real winter works pls forgive me, #rollins apologist behaviour from the author, characters stand close to the edge of buildings but they don’t have any plans for leaving said building, bad grammar, bit o’ angst, bit of fluff (as a treat)

word count: 1.6k

Dr Abbot thought he was doing a rather terrible job at feeling anything other than pathetic thank you very much. The final 30 minutes of the shift dragged into eternity, and you were never close enough. You quietly extracted yourself from every scenario in which Jack might touch you or say your name. Hands quick, words gentle, you continued to heal your patients, but the wound between you and Jack remained gaping.

As 7am dawned, black and cold, Jack found himself to be in an entirely black and cold mood. And Robby’s aggravating cheerfulness upon arrival certainly did little to help.

“Brother,” The new father chirped across the desk, “How’d it go last night?”

“Sparkly.” Jack deadpanned, nearly tearing through the paper under his hands with the scratch of his pen. The computer you’d spent so much time hunched over this shift was now dark and quiet.

Usually you would wait to say goodbye before leaving, punching him lightly on the arm, cracking something wise-ass about putting his compression sock on right when he got home, letting his body rest.

“Don’t want the old legs given out on us now do we?”

You’d smile a smile that would tear right through him, making him feel young, like he could run on those old, broken and missing legs forever and ever. Every time it was a battle to not chase after you, to catch you at your car, to ask if you’d smile at him somewhere other than a place that always stunk of pain. That smile was no where to be seen. He tried his best to ignore the sensation of panic sitting near his heart.

“That bad huh?” Robby frowned, looking across one of the calmest Pitts they’d had in months.

“How is it at Casa Robinavitch?” Jack asked, putting down his instrument of destruction to look up at his friend. Robby looked 20 years younger, almost *glowing—*the freak.

“Baby slept 12 hours,” He declared throwing his hands up in delight. “Heather is perfect, and she is all mine tonight,” He added, only marginally quieter, eyebrows dancing.

In the wake of PittFest and all its rotting, rubbing, terror and ugliness, Robby and Heather deserved some goodness. But so much of it, right in front of Jack, was not kind on the stomach in this particular moment.

“Godspeed brother.” Jack laughed, rising from the desk and grabbing his friend’s shoulder for a quick squeeze. “Don’t fuck it up please?”

Robby nodded, smile unmoved, “I won’t. Now can you get your ugly mug out of my face please, I have work to do.”

“Yeah, yeah, have a good shift.”

Standing in front of his locker, the prospect of returning to a freezing, empty house for the next few days held no sense pleasure for Jack. What were the chances that if he wished hard enough, when the door clicked open you would be sitting on his couch in that ratty Penguins jersey you so adored, arms open and waiting for him? Slim, he decided. The usual low growl of the shift’s repressed hardship echoed through his head, waiting to eat away at him in the silence outside the ER. A quick trip to the roof, a few minutes in the freezing cold, would steady him enough to face it…and the absence of you.

The echo of your words seemed to bounce off the concrete walls of the stairs as he ascended.

What right do you have? Like it’s me that’s hurting you*?!*

He sped up; as if he’d ever been able to escape your voice. How was he going to explain his regret, his apology to you? Every last combination of words he tried felt shallow and inadequate. You deserved so much more than cello-taped sentences of shame.

Exploding out into sub-zero was euphoric. For just a moment, the world was in sharp focus, the blur of the past several hours evaporating into nothing but white. Pittsburgh peered down at him, the concrete offering its own disapproving look, the glass its own sting, the barren trees their own answer. Someone else was peering back at it, standing on the other side of the rail, leaning against the freezing metal.

That puffer.

You’d bought it on the very first day of Summer, parading it around the sweltering heat of a Pitt with aircon on the fritz.

“It cost me barely anything,” You told anyone who would listen, “Guess how much!”

You’d twisted back and forth, ensuring everyone got a good angle of the quality, nearly taking out Whittaker in your enthusiasm. Eventually you’d spun around to face Jack.

“Go on Cap, guess!”

He’d said something, a number plucked from obscurity. He couldn’t remember it now, or wether he’d been right. All he was thinking, now and then, was that it exactly matched the colour of your eyes.

He didn’t approach quietly, not wanting to startle you. Each crunch of snow felt like a choice being made, a door fast approaching, a step towards an abyss. You spoke without turning.

“I thought you’d come up here.”

Your words settled; a stone in a pool, ripples dancing out, brushing gently against his heart.

“I can leave if you want.” Jack said, hoping against all hope you would shake off the offer.

Your eyes turned to him, even brighter against the snow. You sighed, dusting off a patch of metal beside you and patting it firmly, “Lean with me.”

Jack only just managed to steady himself in his haste to join you, head nearly colliding with the steel as he ducked between the rails. For a moment you and him leant in breathless, anticipatory silence, looking out at the city that you had sweated and fought and cried for all night long.

It was you that first spoke into the void, “I’ve applied for the new Emergency Pedes Fellowship at PTMC, or have you forgotten that residents do have to find another job after the program ends?”

Jack’s eyes snapped to your face. He remembered Robby mentioning the opening position weeks and weeks ago, just in passing. But all the times you had mentioned your interest in Emergency Pedes medicine, every case you had jumped on to heal a little body, to calm a little mind, to soothe a little heart…he should have put the pieces together.

Without thinking he blurted, “You’ve been the only one ever any good with parents,” The internal wince at his messy attempt at soothing was immediate. Good with parents—what?

Your voice was small now, a tear soaked laugh just perceptible in it, “I didn’t want to tell you until I’d heard either way. I didn’t—” You did laugh now, “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Jack turned out to the city, the biting January air far, far easier to face. What an utter fool he was.

“I’m sorry.” He said, shaking his head. You didn’t say a word, just let the wind blow right through the both of you.

Jack returned his gaze to you, letting his eyes have their fill. Taking in each and every line and crease and feature. His favourite face in the whole world.

“I’m sorry,” Your name so soft and reverent on his lips, “It was incredibly…asshole of me.”

Your face scrunched at the words, rallying against a growing desire to laugh, “It was asshole indeed.”

The smallest of smiles. Your proximity. Your endless well of warmth and hope and joy. It made him want to be brave.

“I don’t quite understand it yet, but I feel very strongly about you. You are the first and last person I think about everyday. Yours is the face I picture when its all too much. Your voice is what I hear when I’m afraid. Your laugh is what stills me, calms me.”

Your mouth parted, just a bit, eyes becoming endless, swallowing him whole.

“When I thought that you might leave, perhaps that you would go overseas again, I was struck with fear I haven’t felt in a long, long time.” He took a long, stuttering breath.

“I don’t ever want to lose you.”

You surrendered, moving towards him, hand outstretched.

“It’s not an excuse,” he said, the words coming like a released river now, an outpouring of everything gathering dust within him, “I was selfish and I shouldn’t have done that, it’s not fair—”

Your arms enveloped him, face burying deep into his neck, hands curling into his hair. Everything you had wanted to do from the very first moment your eyes found his. He melted into your embrace, strong arms banding around your body, face pressing into the softest skin between your collarbone and shoulder. You cried into his scrubs, your relief and disbelief and joy bleeding out onto him—this man who had just given you a gift you had never even hoped could be yours.

Jack mumbled into your skin, “Baby, my baby.”

You pulled back, just enough to send your lips flying across his skin, every last bit you could reach. He accepted them gladly, so malleable and giving in your hands. Finally, finally, you found his mouth, crashing home with delight. For one precious eternity you simply remained pressed together, as if somehow endosymbiosis will begin. When you released each other, there was shared breath to relish in, and the feeling of foreheads connected, hands twined together. Could it have possibly been winter? Spring had come to a hospital rooftop in Pittsburgh. Something entirely new had bloomed. Jack gently released you to capture your face in his hands, with one thumb he carefully smoothed the skin between your brows, banishing for now any hint of a crease. There was no confusion, no frustration, no fear here.

“Are you working tonight?” You asked, words too full of smile to really parse.

“No, I’m off for the weekend,” His lips were in your hair.

You kissed him again, more desperate this time, seeking something more. His hands drifted south, smoothing over your shoulders, finding your hips, the tips of his fingers just grazing your ass.

Heart beating wildly, hot skin on hot skin, you took a dive, “Have breakfast with me.”

~~~~~~~~

There is fluff and hope for them in the sunrise people! Thank you for reading, these two will be back very very soon xo

previous | next

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr Gaiman. I have read all of your books.

This is not an ask, rather an answer.

I would like to say thank you for saving me. Knowing I will never meet you will not change the way I feel about you or myself.

Love your fiction work. I feel bad for the fact that it’s not fiction to me. It is my life story.

Very sad one. That I am still trying to make sense of today.

I was raised by the other mother. Not really, but I was raised by a bipolar narcissist who hated me and loved me but didn’t know how to do either. She sexually abused me for 12 years.

No one ever believed me. No one.

So I would pretend that I was Coraline and that I was brave. I was. But that was because I knew that the spell had to break at some point.

I am 24 now. She is old and frail but the hell she has made in my mind - I almost never escaped. Until I understood that I truly was stronger.

Because she tried to make me just like her, but I refused. I picked kindness.

If you can’t find a friend, be one. If you can’t find someone you look up to- become someone who others can look up to.

I did. I tried my best. I promise.

I want to tell you the ultimate secret that no one ever could. You probably figured it out a long time ago, but it still makes me feel better to write it here, even if I know that you might never reply or ask me if I am safe, or dismiss me like a crazed fan/abused child who desperately needs help and attention.

I don’t. I would like to be your friend. But I know it is not possible.

So I want you to know I know why they do it.

They do it for the same reason as you wrote books. To not feel alone.

But that is the problem with existing in this world. Evil is nothing but not understanding yourself and hating different people from you.

Ignorance brings hate. How do you justify yourself in a world like this?

Simple.

You change the world by breading more people who believe hate is love, and love is hate. Evil needs justification. Kindness needs non.

I sat alone for 24 years and told no one. The paragraph above was just the start and the ending.

My story is still unfolding. But I wanted to let you know you are no longer sitting alone at your birthday party.

Because the only present I ever got was knowing someone else like me existed.

Someone who could look evil in the eye and stare back.

And never stop talking about it.

Thank you Mr. Gaiman, for writing “View from the Cheap Seats”

When I read it I put it down as well as the razor that I wanted to end my life with.

Because you were my only friend. And you still are.

And I cannot take the injustice anymore. If they won’t read, I will read to them.

I will save them just like you saved me. Making reading cool and easy.

And I will do it for you and me. So that no one else can see the horrors anywhere but in books and movies.

And I will do it one act of kindness and love at a time.

So they will know that injustice is just a state of mind.

Thank you Mr.Gaiman. You gave me hope.

And now I will do the unthinkable. I will try until my dying breath to change their mind.

One step forward into a future where you are not sad and a story like mine is just a horror movie and not a reality.

Because you are my only friend, and I hate to see my friends sad.

Leto

I'm so proud of you, and this made me tear up.

[evertidings]

— MARCH 2025.

Accomplishments.

What a month, huh? I glanced back at my update for February and wow, I really did not accomplish much in that month. In all fairness, I had a lot going on, but hey! That means my March update in comparison looks really good lol.

We’re already a third of the way through April by the time I’m writing this, so I’m a little late (when am I not, really?) but because of that, I can confidently say that the writing portion of Chapter 12 is nearly done! I was powering through it for most of March and now I’m slowly pushing through to the end; it’ll probably be done sometime this week, if everything goes well. After that comes editing, which is always the most frustrating part of doing this for me.

Because I’ve been working on this for so long, some of the chapter was written as early as October 2024, which, when you have my short-term memory, can be pretty bad. It’s kind of amusing when I stumble upon information that I already wrote at the beginning of the chapter, repeated again at the end because I forgot I mentioned it. That usually means more work for me though, since I have to cut it out and fill the empty space leftover, so you can imagine that I’m not very excited to start proofreading.

But, onto happier things. In terms of chapter content, I think this is the most RO-centric chapter I’ve ever written. I might have gone overboard, but there are three separate scenes with the RO of your choice. Some scenes are shorter than others, of course, but I’ve never fit so many in a chapter—it’s kind of exciting. It also makes sense since the romance lock is very soon (I may or may not have a chapter planned for it and am just keeping my lips locked), so I want you to have as much time possible with your potential choices. All of them are unique in their own way, though admittedly similar. Even so, I feel like they all make sense considering the content of the chapter and honestly, I doubt any of you will complain haha. They’re nice to have.

It’s a nice reprieve to the heaviness that Eliana brings to the chapter. I know she’s my character, but she’s honestly taken on a mind of her own and evolved so much throughout the writing process. My goal was to make her difficult to understand and, well, it seems like I successfully accomplished that. Aside from Sebastian, she’s probably been my favourite figurehead-like character to write. Her intrigue makes her so interesting, especially since she doesn’t like showing all her cards from the beginning. It’ll be a while until you’re able to put a finger on her character.

But, you’ll find that out soon! I know I said I wanted to put Chapter 12 out this month, and I could if I worked myself to the bone, but I think pushing it to Early May (first week or so) is best. In the past, I’ve given myself very little time to edit and code the chapter once it’s written out and it’s stressed me out a lot. For something that is supposed to be a hobby, I’m very harsh on myself with deadlines and I don’t think it’s fair for me to lose sleep over this, so, hopefully, you all understand. I’ll keep you all updated if I do manage to push the date up though and, of course, there’ll be an announcement once a date is official.

With that said, I hope you’re all taking care of yourselves and have a wonderful April!

Stats.

Chapter Total: 55,738 words (+14,113)

Game Total: ~567,170

[drdemonprince]

it's very weird for me because I hear all these stories from my peers about how they were preyed on, about how they were spending all this time stopping older women from killing themselves or being groomed. I recognize that there were people who tried to do this to me, but I generally rebuffed them. it was offline where my mother was abusing me emotionally and (I've come to realize) sexually, gaslighting me into literally thinking she could read my mind, and it was online where I was treated like a real live person with agency who could experience pain

so when I hear my peers saying "oh it's horrible for kids to be on the internet unsupervised, it's all full of groomers," I'm like... the people grooming me were the people outside the computer. the yaoi sex RP at like age 12 was actually a welcome escape because I was treated like a human

Yeah, I'm with you. I had a lot of adult online friends when I was a child and teen and it actually all worked out great for me.

When I was in 4th grade I was active in AOL's video game community, participating in caption contests weekly, and the host of the contest liked my humor so much that he gave me a dedicated spot on the site. He and several of the other games writers were completely supportive and appropriate with me -- they treated me like a funny kid and made me feel like I had something valuable to say, and never crossed boundaries.

After that I was super active on the Invader Zim Obsessives Anonymous forum, which was mostly populated with preteens but was run by a 25 year old woman. She was a big sister figure to many of us, answering our questions about what getting drunk felt like and what it was like to drive a car when we had questions or needed details for the roleplays we were writing. I wrote little raps based on each week's Invader Zim episode and she made a special thread for me to do it and cheered on all our creativity.

I was also really active on virtual spaces like There.com, Gaia Online and Second Life. I went to virtual dance parties with adults as well as teens, traded items, attended game nights and other events, and chatted with them on voice or via text. Sometimes I'd hear an adult talk about their real life problems that I couldn't fully understand but it didn't feel any different from like interacting with a real-world neighbor or friend's parent.

Throughout high school I was on other forums filled with both adults and kids -- the asexuality forums, several Zelda forums, etc. A writer in his 50s even asked me to start contributing to his politics & culture blog when I was 16, after enjoying some of the writing I had about atheism and politics on my Myspace. He & his fellow writers on the blog mentored me as a writer and helped me feel confident in what I had to say and that I had the right to say it.

If I hadn't had all these supportive adults in my life, virtually, I would have been a lot more ignorant about the world, more socially isolated, and I wouldn't have the ironclad confidence that I have in my writerly voice. I am the product of dozens of adults encouraging me, seeing the promise in me, promoting my creative work as something worth paying attention to, and taking my interest in the world seriously.

The only near miss that I had was when I was on Myspace, where an adult man almost groomed a 16-year-old me for a "modeling photoshoot" in his basement. I had a bad feeling and bailed. By then I'd had enough healthy experiences that I knew when something felt off.

I mourn for the old days of the internet, pre social media, and I do not think it harmed me at all to have free and unmonitored internet access. It was never the internet that was the problem anyway -- it was the social conditions that kids are typically trapped inside of.

[sodaneko]

❥ 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 ↳ 𝐰/ 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 & 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Messy, honey Trippin' on cracks in the concrete You're so clumsy Got me thinkin' maybe you like me

➸ you leave a bad review about Onigiri Miya on your food blog. Osamu is a little annoyed about it but mostly worried why you cried so much in your food across of him at the counter.

❉ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 ongoing!

✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 & 𝐂𝐖 (updated as the story progresses) meet ugly (my beloved!!), slow burn, enemies to lover vibes but not full on (they don’t hate each other, they are just a little messy and confused), SFW but will have some mention of alcohol and sex at some point, descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks (chapters will have an additional warning at the beginning), a lot of food mention obviously, mention of various pairings (Yukie/Konoha, Matsuhana, Bokuaka, Sakuatsu)

❦ 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐒 real housewives of Y/N ❁ boyish whimsy

❉ 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐗 (✑ contains written parts)

… prologue: dog tags

… chapter 01: love bites (✑)

… chapter 02: malewife era

… chapter 03: croquettes

… chapter 04: rotten apple (✑)

… chapter 05: lovers quarrel

… chapter 06: Miya kisser club (✑)

… chapter 07: 2AM lychee soju (✑)

… chapter 08: you up?

… chapter 09: my side of the bed

… chapter 10: to be loved

… chapter 11: siren song (✑)

… chapter 12: pomegranates

… chapter 13: the beach episode

… chapter 14: the bathroom floor (✑)

… chapter 15: animals

… chapter 16: candy wrappers

… chapter 17: cage fights

… chapter 18: side quest (✑)

… chapter 19: coming soon

… chapter 20: coming soon

✮ 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒

moodboard (Pinterest) bonus chapter: honeymoon suite bonus chapter: ask the cast! unlocked lore: oikawa & y/n friendship uquiz: which soft launch character are you?

❖ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 open - fill out this form to be added (or removed, no hard feelings ♡)! minors DNI!

a/n: this is my first SMAU ever and i'm not entirely sure what i am doing but when has this ever held me back? it's actually based on a drabble i wrote the other day and might also be the most self-indulgent thing i have ever written if you enjoyed this, i would LOVE hearing your thoughts as the story moves on! ♡

[kkoga]

DO IT. DO THE HURT NO COMFORT. PLPSLSPLSPSLSPLS I LOVE ANGST!!!

-🎧

A/N : your wish is my command....

RAINY NIGHTS, sophia laforteza x fem!reader

Warning ! Hurt no comfort, toxic relationship, mentions of sensitive topics, not proofread

Disclaimer ! Everything written here is pure fiction. Every person is not a real portrayal of themselves.

Now playing ! Cologne by beabadobee

WC — I dont knkw bruh i wrote this and its 3 fucking am im not mentally sane lawl phones also 7 percent.

Synopsis ! After Sophia Laforteza fucks up multiple times, Y/n decides she's had enough. Time and time the girl had waited, but much to her dismay, all Sophia had done, was disappoint her.

Y/n shamefully exits the restaurant, feeling dozens of eyes on her. The girl had been waiting for her girlfriend, Sophia Laforteza, to show up to a date they've been planning for weeks now.

The first hour wasn't so bad. Maybe she had gotten stuck in traffic, or maybe she would be just a little late. The second hour was worse. At that point, waiters and waitresses had started asking her where her partner was. And what Y/n hated the most, was the fact that she had no answer to their questions.

Now here she was, after the fourth hour of waiting. It was currently 12 am, and much to the girl's luck, it had just started raining.

The girl could only sigh.

"What a great marvellous day! Not only does Sophia leave me waiting for our date, it starts raining right after I get kicked out! Absolutely hilarious!" Y/n mumbes to herself, tears beginning to well up.

"Maybe she just forgot. I mean, she's busy afterall..." The girl tried her best to convince herself that this was going to be a one time thing.

She was wrong.

Y/n bites her inner lip. It has been 2 hours since their designated sleepover. It's been weeks since Sophia had gone over to her house. So they'd been planning for a movie night. And tonight was that night. So why exactly has Sophia been ignoring her calls?

Y/n presses the call button once more, but to no avail, she was met with Sophia's voice mail for the nth time.

The popcorn was starting to get cold, and the ice cream was starting to melt. Y/n sighs. It's been two hours. Maybe she got caught up in an emergency schedule?

"Couldn't she just have told me...?" Y/n shakenly whispers to herself. This was the fourth time Sophia had stood her up this month alone.

Y/n begrudgingly placed the ice cream back in the fridge and seals the popcorn in a random container. The sound of rain keeping her grounded.

"It's okay. This will be the last time this happens."

Finally. Sophia had finally shown up to a hang out. Y/n had been waiting for the past month. The girl had greatly missed her girlfriend, and she hoped Sophia felt the same.

"Sophie! Hi!" Y/n ran up to Sophia, and hugged her as tight as she could. Afraid to let go, scared she might lose the one person able to cheer her up with a simple smile.

"Y/n! Baby! Hi, i missed you so much." Sophia hugged the girl back, and for a moment, Y/n thought,

"Finally. We're back to normal. Oh god, how I've missed my girl."

Y/n couldn't help the small but sweet smile that had formed.

It had been an hour since their hang out started, and apparently, Sophia had to go. Y/n felt sad, but knew it was her job, her dream. And Y/n would never get in the way of that.

As Sophia entered her car, Y/n bid goodbye to her girlfriend.

"Bye Sophie, miss you, and i love you." Y/n leans down for a cheek kiss, almost missing the unreadable expression Sophia had on her face.

"Yeah, bye." And with that, Sophia drives off to god knows where.

"No i love you too...? No... maybe she just forgot. It's fine." And suddenly, rain had started pouring. Y/n quickly ran for cover, but couldn't avoid looking like a somewhat wet puppy.

It was infact, not fine. It had been three months since that little mini date, and Sophia hadn't said the words "I love you". Atleast not without Y/n basically telling her to.

What went wrong? What did Y/n ever do? Did she offend Sophia? Did she do anything to form this... this gap between them?

Y/n felt so lost. So... confused. She was so sure she hadn't done anything. At least not anything she could remember. Well, she was going to find out tonight.

The door opens widely, in a swift manner. And in comes Sophia, sick and worried.

"Y/N, BABY, ARE YOU OKAY?? I came as soon as i got the text, I—" The panicked Sophia came in, expecting to see an injured or sick Y/n. But all she had found was Y/n sitting on the chair of one of her counters, with a stoic look on her face.

Sophia's breathe was heavy, like she had ran to get to Y/n's apartment.

"Why are you completely fine? You texted me it was an emergency Y/n, I was busy—!"

"Well, you always are, aren't you?" Y/n looks up to Sophia's eyes, and frustration begins to fill the Filipina.

"Excuse me? You know I'm constantly busy. For fucks sake, I'm an idol! You can't—"

"I know. I know what I signed up for, Laforteza. I know I'd never get in the way of your dreams. You would never even let me." Y/n gets off the stool, and faces her girlfriend.

"So what's your point! What, you call me here because you missed me? I was in a fucking meeting Y/n. With one of HYBE's officials!! Do you know how fucking important that is?" Sophia scratches her head in disbelief, her anger bubbling up faster than it ever has. Y/n sighs defeatedly.

"More important than me?"

Silence filled the apartment. What felt like hours were only a few measly seconds.

"The silence was more than enough, Laforteza. I'm tired. I am so fucking tired of you leaving me hanging. At first, it was a date here, a date there, but nowadays, it's like everything we plan just ends up with me waiting."

"But I'm trying Y/n! I'm trying my best for you, for my members, for my fucking dream. Why can't you just understand that?"

"Then answer this, Laforteza. When was the last time you had told me the words "I love you"? When was the last time you had willingly told me those three words."

Sophia tried to recollect, the Filipina had really tried her best. But the realization had hit her hard.

"Fucking THINK Laforteza. Give me a goddamned answer. When was the last time you had given me a sincere, loving, "I love you"?... ANSWER ME!"

"I... I can't remember...." Sophia had started tearing up. Why couldn't she fucking remember the last time she had said I love you to her own fucking girlfriend?

Y/n let out a laugh. But it wasn't the usual light and hearty laugh Sophia had always heard. This laugh sounded painful. It was like all of Y/n's vocal chords had suddenly forgotten what a laugh had sounded like.

After a few seconds, Y/n's laughing had turned into sobs.

"Do you know how many times I've had to shamefully walk out of a restaurant, or get kicked out? Sophia, everyone looked at me. Their eyes were so full of pity. The waiters and waitresses constantly checked up on me like I was some poor child, left behind by her mother. Countless times, Sophia. I endured it all, thinking it would be the last time."

Y/n's voice had started cracking, and the girl had made a face Sophia had never seen before. One filled with so much sadness, so much sorrow.

"But time and time again, you proved me wrong. Every date you stood up, every "I love you" left unanswered, destroyed me, Sophia."

"Baby... baby I'm so sorry, please—" Sophia tries to move closer to Y/n, but the girl pulls away.

"Don't. Don't ever call me baby ever again. You don't get the fucking right, Sophia."

"I'm so disappointed in you Sophia. I never thought you'd ever treat me this way. Your career may have excused a missing date or two. But seven in a row? Sophia, we've gone on three total dates for the past four month's. And we had planned seventeen. Seven fucking teen Sophia. You stood me up fourteen times, and that's only for the past four months."

"I.. please I'm so—"

"So let's end this."

"...what?"

This felt so surreal. Y/n had just asked her if they could end it. Sophia had felt her whole world crumble. She caused this? Has she really broken down the one person who had supported her through everything?

"No.. no, no we aren't. Please, just give me a chance to—"

"No, Laforteza. Get out. We're over."

Sophia laughs, hoping this was some sort of wicked sick dream.

"We aren't over Y/n. Please, I just—"

"We've been over for the past seven months, Laforteza. What we've had for those last few months was just me trying to keep us both on the same page. But a relationship requires two people. We can't keep going if your heart isn't in it, Laforteza."

Sophia couldn't help it. Her tears had burst out like there was no tomorrow. The girl hadn't cried like this for a long, long time.

"But.. but I need you Y/n, please..." At this point, the Filipina had gotten on her knees.

"No, you don't. Hell, you don't even want me. You just think you do. So please, get up and leave, before I say things I don't think I can take back."

"I can't just leave!"

"Yes you can. Leave. For the both of us, Sophie." The mention of her nickname was driving Sophia crazy.

"But I fucking love you Y/n!" .

Y/n looks at Sophia with a tired face.

"Do you really?"

Sophia looks at Y/n. A look of desperation displayed on her pretty face. Y/n hates how she's never going to see that face ever again. Hates how she's never going to kiss that pretty face to sleep ever again. Hates how those soft and comforting arms will never comfort her ever again. Hates how she will never wake up next to the love of her life ever again. Hates how Sophia will never be hers ever again. But she was okay with that. She knew it had to end one way or another. It was better this way.

And so, after more back and forth conversations, Sophia reluctantly leaves. Sophia closes the door, and Y/n locks it right after.

Y/n will never open up her heart for Sophia ever again. And the latter knows that. They were over. They were really over. Neither could believe it. The two fall to their knees, on opposite sides of the door. The sound of heavy rain masking the others cries.

Guess rainy nights were never their thing.

[mischievousmoony]

𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜'

⟢ james potter x black!reader (fem)

⟢ summary: after your parents cross the line, you and your older brother sirius find sanctuary at the potters' . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 2.6k

⟢ warnings: abusive parents, blood, cuts, head injury

⟢ part 1 ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3 ⟡ masterlist

note: i wrote this for fun and never expected to be posting it so i hope it's not bad... i actually never expected to be posting ever again but here i am ;) anyway i’d like to give this a part two (or more!) but i’m not sure what should happen next

An eerie silence overtook 12 Grimmauld Place on what had so far been an unremarkable summer night. 

Not even the usual sounds of activity fell upon your ears. No creaks from the old floorboards in the hallway outside your door. No scratches against your window from the oak branch that desperately needed trimming. 

No cracks from your father smacking one of your brothers for ‘disappointing’ him. No shrills from your mother fussing about whatever she decided would upset her that night. 

Nothing. 

It was complete, utter silence—a silence that would send a shiver down most people’s spine in a house like this. 

As ancient as it is, the walls had witnessed countless tragic displays from the Black ancestors who came before you. These walls are soaked in dark memories, and any visitor would attest that they seep negative energy, drowning those that stay too long. As a resident, you’ve grown used to the sinking feeling in your stomach that comes with being in this house of horrors.

Silent nights like this were something to be grateful for. You could lie in bed, close your eyes, and imagine you were anywhere else. Tonight, it was Hogwarts that you longed for. 

Perhaps you were in your dormitory, about to drift off after a long day of classes. 

Or perhaps you were in the library, studying in the quiet lull of busy students focusing on their work. Perhaps you were even there on a study date with a certain brunette Quidditch captain. Your brother would certainly have a conniption if he knew this particular boy invaded your daydreams. 

You almost drifted off to sleep as this fantasy played like a film on the back of your eyelids. Were those hushed voices you could hear? Had your imagination become so powerful that you could hear students whispering about their assignments? 

Certainly not. The voices were real and coming from somewhere in the house. Your brows furrowed and you strained to listen. Not to eavesdrop, but rather to determine where exactly these voices were coming from. 

You held your breath to listen more closely. Had the voices stopped? Just as you were settling back down to lose yourself in your imagination again, a long, blood-curdling scream jolted you upright from where you lay in bed. 

If you learned anything at the hands of your parents, it was how to discern what was happening just by the sound of your brothers’ screams. You could tell that the scream belonged to a very much in pain Sirius. But the intensity of it was nothing like you’ve heard before. You itched to run to his aid. 

"Don’t do anything."

A memory of Sirius’ voice echoed in your mind. 

"No matter what you hear, you stay in your room and you wait for one of us to come to you."

You always did what you were told, no matter how much you ached to check on your brothers in moments like these. After all, as your brothers claimed, it would only hurt them more if they had to watch what happened to them happen to you, especially if it was just because you wanted to see if they were okay. 

You were the youngest, technically only by two minutes when it came to Regulus, but still, both of your older brothers were fiercely protective over you.

Another spell of silence settled over Grimmauld Place after your brother’s scream. The only noise you could hear now was your heart beating out of your chest. 

That’s what you listened to for twenty long minutes. Your heart rate maintained its rapid pace, as it always did until you saw one of your brothers in the aftermath of the assault. 

Apart from your trembling hands, you sat completely still, waiting and waiting for one of them to come. The longer it took, the more fear built up in your stomach. 

Finally, the sound of booming footsteps landed on your ears as someone barreled up the staircase. Two steps at a time, heavy, and fast. This step pattern was easily distinguished as Sirius’, and you finally stood up from your bed, staring at your door impatiently. 

Sirius burst into your room like a bullet escaping the barrel of a gun. In one swift motion, your brother hauled your empty trunk out from under your bed and dropped it on top. 

He unlatched it and tossed it open, “We’re leaving. For good. Pack only the important stuff.”  

“What happened?” You reached for your brother's arm to force his attention toward you. He hadn’t looked you in the eye once since entering your room. 

His clothes were completely disheveled. As you scanned every thread that was out of place, you noticed that his body was twitching every now and then. His hands trembled, and there was blood on his fingertips. Looking up at his face, you saw the source of blood—a wound hidden behind his hair. He had smeared away what blood had trickled down his forehead with his hands. 

“You need to sit down.” You worried he could have a concussion. 

Sirius took you by the shoulders and thrust you in the direction of your wardrobe. “What I need to do is find out where our parents hide the bloody floo powder. Pack.” 

Sirius’ tone was authoritative and his grave expression made your mouth run dry. Before you could utter words of agreement, he was gone. 

With a wave of your wand, your school books and supplies packed themselves. Meanwhile, you tore through your wardrobe, grabbing the essentials. You moved on quickly to grab whatever else you couldn’t live without: photographs of you and your brothers, letters of love that were hidden behind mirrors, gifted trinkets that you’ve grown attached to, and an ancient bracelet adorned with emeralds. 

As you clicked your trunk shut, Sirius appeared once again with a crystal jar under his left arm, which also balanced his own trunk. His wand was held defensively in his other hand. 

“Let’s go,” Sirius said flatly.

You followed him closely down the stairs to the drawing room. 

Sirius placed the crystal jar on the mantle of the fireplace. You glanced back in the direction from which you came.

“And Regulus?” You asked, wondering where your twin brother was. He would be joining you, wouldn’t he?

Sirius had an unreadable look on his face as he paused to answer you. Before he could, the shrill voice of your mother interrupted, “What do you think you are doing!?”

Sirius grabbed you forcefully by the arms and shoved you into the fireplace. Your right elbow scraped across the brick like chalk as Sirius was acting too fast to be careful. 

“Don’t you dare!” your mother bellowed and began casting hexes straight at you and your brother, aiming to maim. Luckily, Sirius was quite skilled with protego after all these years. 

In between casting protection spells, Sirius shoved his hand into the crystal jar and collected a heap of floo powder. He thrust the soft, emerald powder into your palm. “Go to the Potters! I’ll be right behind you.”

As always, you did what your brother told you to. In a flash, you were stumbling into the cozy living room of the Potter's house in Godric’s Hollow. 

Your eyes and mouth were filled with soot, and you nearly tripped on the carpet as you stumbled blindly away from the fireplace. Instead of falling, you ran right into something solid. Calloused hands landed on your upper arms. You blinked soot from your eyes to meet the gaze of James Potter. 

“What’s happened?” His tone was laced with worry as he scanned your body for injuries. He gently picked up your right arm, inspecting the scuffed, bleeding skin. He winced as if the injury was his own. 

You didn't answer. Instead, you turned to watch the fireplace. Feelings of anxiety swirled in the pit of your stomach as you waited for your brother. You thanked Merlin when he arrived just a few moments later. 

He was coughing when he stepped in and fell to the ground almost immediately.

James regarded you briefly, holding his hands out to you as if to say “hold on” before leaving your side. He rushed to his best friend and yelled for his parents as he tried to determine the problem. Sirius’ skin began to swell and turn sickly shades of red. You recognized this as the effects of your mother’s stinging jinx. 

James’ parents rushed into the room with panic written across their faces. They were in their nightwear and had their wands at the ready to defend their boy from any trouble he might be in. As they took in the scene in front of them, they discarded their wands and quickly came to yours and your brother’s rescue. 

Fleamont Potter offered to take you to a guest room, insisting that you shouldn’t see your brother like this. You refused, wanting to stay with Sirius as Euphemia worked quickly to counteract the stinging jinx. Fleamont, like James, couldn’t hide the worry from his face as you settled in on the couch. 

Your eyes were trained on your brother, but you began to feel sick watching him in all that pain. You shifted your gaze to the empty fireplace and wondered if Regulus would be the next to come through. You tried to shut out your other brother’s groans and cries as you stared desperately into the fireplace. 

With a mix of Euphemia’s healing spells and the application of some herby poultice that was perviously prepared by Fleamont, Sirius’ swelling subsided and his groans turned into occasional whimpers. 

You were able to stomach looking at Sirius again, but your face still showed levels of worry and unease. 

Almost as soon as your eyes fluttered back to Sirius, James took notice of your worry. Confident in his mother's ability to tend to any other injuries Sirius may have, he to came you. 

He moved slowly, as if approaching a frightened cat. You didn’t notice him until he spoke.

“Y/N,” He called gently, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You tore your gaze away from your older brother to look into the young Potters’ eyes.

“I don’t know why Regulus isn’t here,” you told James. You just wanted someone else to share this concern with. 

James chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Well… when Sirius is better, we’ll find out what he knows about that. Okay?”

Your lower lip trembled as you choked out, “I’m scared for him.”

James offered a sad smile, “I know. We’ll find out as soon as we can, alright? But all we can do for now is make sure you and Sirius are okay. Let me take care of you, yeah?” 

You let your gaze drift away from James and back to your brother once again. He seemed to be in good hands with Euphemia and now Fleamont. 

You nodded, giving James the okay. He had a gentle hold on your upper arm as he led you up off the couch. You followed him through his house until he guided you into the bathroom and sat you down on the lid of the toilet. 

James sifted through the bathroom cabinets until he pulled out a yellowing pouch, stained with age, and a washcloth which he saturated with warm water. 

James held out a hand toward you. “Can I take care of that elbow, m’dear.”

You placed your forearm in James’ palm while his other hand got to work on cleaning your cut skin. As gentle as James was being, you winced anyway. Seeming fearful of causing you more pain, James managed to be even gentler.

Once satisfied, James lost the washcloth and dipped his hand into the pouch that he recovered from the cabinet. The contents he pulled out look considerably fresher than the bag itself, thankfully. 

First, he took out bandages, followed by a clear jar that contained a sticky looking yellow jelly. He scooped up a generous amount on his pointer finger and applied it to your skin. 

As he worked, he kept stealing glances at you, building up the courage to ask what all the Potter’s were surely wondering that night. He decided to bite the bullet, “Do you think you can tell me what happened?”

You explained all that you knew, detailing the events from the moment you heard your brother’s scream to the moment you fell into James’ arms. 

“Don’t know what they did to make him scream like that.” You shuddered at the possibilities. 

James was applying a bandage to you now. “‘S okay. He’s doing better now. My parents probably have him all tucked in bed and fast asleep.” 

James endearingly tapped your nose, “Let’s do the same for you, yeah?”

“I wanna talk to Sirius,” you protested. 

“Like I said, my parents probably have him in bed by now. Come on, I promise we’ll get all your questions answered first thing in the morning.”

You sighed but agreed. James led you through his house once again: up the stairs, down the hall, and through the third door on the left. It was a small room with just a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. 

“Just a moment,” James said and disappeared into the hall. Seconds later, he was back with a Gryffindor t-shirt and some sweats. “Here, you can wear these. I’ll bring your trunk up in the morning.” 

James dipped out of the room once again to give you privacy to change. As you removed your shirt, you noticed bloody fingerprints on the shoulder and sleeves where Sirius had held onto you. You threw the shirt into the bin under the desk. 

Once dressed in James’ loaner clothing, you sat on the bed. Light knocks peppered the door and you called for, presumably, James to come in. James entered with a glass of water in hand. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, taking a few sips from the glass before handing it back. He placed it on the desk for you. 

James then helped you settle into the flowery, purple sheets, “Comfy?” 

You nodded up at him. 

“I’m, uh, just across the hall, alright?” James turned to leave. He stopped by the light switch and looked back at you. 

He took notice of your expression, which brought a frown to his lips. Your eyebrows were drawn in as you stared straight ahead at the wall and the corners of your mouth were turned down slightly. You barely even blinked as James studied the far away look in your eyes. 

James wanted to be by your side. He wanted to kiss you and hug you and tell you everything would be alright. But something about kissing you while your brother, his best friend, lay injured and clueless down the hall made him feel guilty. 

James sighed and flicked off the light. The door was pushed into its frame, but James hadn’t left the room. Instead, he approached the bed and sat on the edge of it by your feet. You pushed yourself up on your elbows to look at him curiously. 

“Gonna keep you company till you fall asleep, that okay?” James whispered an explanation. 

You’re not sure if he could see your nod in the dark, but you were too tired to use your voice. 

You sank back into the pillow and allowed your eyes to shut. A light pressure could be felt on your calf. James had rested his hand there, over the blanket. He slowly dragged his hand up and down, and you let his stroke lull you to sleep. 

The last thing you heard before drifting off into a dream was a quiet whisper from James' lips, "'M gonna keep you safe here."

next part

[veren-cos]

Bachelors (sdv) x reader on their period

Gender neutral, but purely because of the prompt, afab reader. I'd say everything I write is gender neutral besides the very rare Trans masc reader ☆

Not proofread and I wrote this in like 25 min- I'll update this when I'm less tired.

Harvey

• A literal doctor.

• Is not weirded out like at all. He is all like, "Oh okay! Do you need anything at all?" And moved on with life

• Maybe has a little blush when you first talk about it? It's a completely normal thing at work (and in life), but it's just because it's you that he wants to make sure he handles it well.

• Would probably get you chocolate. And a heating pad. And blankets. And all the things.

• Aka would just spoil you a bit more than normal, periods suck and he knows-

• If you had any like disorder involving you Period he would be extra on top of stuff.

• Will make sure you are well stocked on and properly take pain meds!

Elliott

• Would just absolutely spoil you!

• Runs a bath, gets chocolate, threw your pajamas in the dryer to get them extra warm, heating pad.

• Might give you a massage if they are super painful? Probably would do it regardless but he would definitely offer if he knew that got bad.

• Idk why he knows so much, maybe it's because of Leah? I don't really write about the bachelotettes, but I feel like she would be super open about it so that's why Elliott knows a lot.

• But yeah he'd be super good to you! Would make you food just because. He is great at spoiling people, but not actually great at knowing what to do physically haha. (I think I mentioned in a previous fic where he just makes you soup if your in pain, he would do that here too)

Shane

• So if I just take Shane as a standalone character I don't think he'd know a lot / want to know/ care.

• But!

• Jas. I'm not sure what age she is supposed to be (literally anywhere from 7-12 imo) but I feel like Shane would have read up on Period stuff in preparation.

• So he would actually be more informed than Elliott!

• Now onto the actual stuff lol-

• He wouldn't be super pamper-y like Elliott and Harvey, but he would definitely help around the house more.

• Animals are all taken care of, crops are all watered, took care of some weeds, etc.

• He would also probably be a bit more physically affectionate purely because he knows you like it.

• Might be a bit embarrassed about it at first but after the first one he gets the gist of what to do.

Alex

• Would be relatively informed just because he is a health nut, but also doesn't know what to do because the most important woman in his life is postmenopausal-

• Probably would just give you chocolate and hugs because he knows like. Emotional and cravings.

• If they were super bad he would ask his grandma for help!

• Wouldn't be embarrassed about it! Once again. Health nut. Gets you pain meds!

Sebastian

• Okay. So. Sebastian.

• Literally lives with 2 ladies. Both very strong confident women. He wouldn't be uninformed by any means, but he probably is still awkward around the topic lmao

• Like if you were complaining he would be like "...." "am I supposed to do something about that?"

• AND HE DIDNT MEAN IT IN A RUDE WAY he was genuinely asking. But he just doesn't know and also is an awkward guy?

• Would do the least out of all the Bachelor's. Maybe just be more emotionally available because Period mood swings be rough. Makes more time to talk about things with you.

• Grabs you ibuprofen or Tylenol, whatever you have in the house.

Sam

• So Sam lives with a kind of coddling mom, does not have sisters, so like. His mom wouldn't talk to him about it. He has no 'personal' experience with it.

• Would be the most clueless-

• But he would definitely be like, "oh babe that sucks let me know what I can do"

• Gives you more cuddles, helps on the farm.

• Super enthusiastic about making you comfortable! He makes it into a way bigger deal than it is but he is genuinely curious about stuff so you think it's cute.

• After your first one when your together he is much better prepared / informed so he isn't all over the place.

• Just very cute and well meaning.

An* I hope this was at least a little cute / silly / comforting / whateveryouwantedoutofthis! I base everything off of personal experience because, like, it's all I got- but more people should be comfortable talking about this! It's completely normal and just a basic human function. So if yours is different than what others describe, that's okay! If yours is exactly the same, also okay! Idk where I'm going with this, but there is no shame in having a period, and that's on that!

This also came off way more dramatic than I meant it to be, but I live for the drama so it's okay (this applies to both the fic and the author's note-)

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