#to allow myself to grow past my mistakes

[raspberryspace]

The Barbie movie changed my brain chemistry, I’m Kenough - I’m him ( interlinked “what’s it like to hold the hand of someone you love” interlinked )

Barbie is a must watch and possibly a 2nd time - alone and in the back of the theater so I can really cry it out. While Oppie really disappointed… which sucks because I got dressed up in period correct clothes too… but gald my group of friends watched Oppie first then Barbie.

Oppenheimer felt like a history channel documentary and I realized I don’t enjoy watching tv shows or movies on events I know the details to. Unfortunate since Nolan’s interstellar is my 2nd favorite right after the masterpiece of Ratatouille.

[nabaath-areng]

I was planning to build new desktop this fall, but seeing that the winter half year practically chains me to bed making me incapable of sitting up I took some of my savings to get a laptop so I can have it in bed for drawing, writing etc at least. And so I'll save back up the coming months and build it once spring arrives instead (hopefully component prices has gone down then too)

All that to say I can only eat my hands as I catch glimpses of dawntrail news after having been ffxiv-less since july last year. my abstinence is out the roof

[marimoscorner]

Consumerism & Witchcraft

Written by Marimo (he/they)🌿

I’ve seen a turn for the better in some witchy spaces regarding consumerism in the past few years, but overall it still tends to be an issue for us as a community. I’ve decided to try and breakdown the pitfalls I’ve noticed in my own journey, in the hopes that it will inspire and assist others. I’ve also provided alternatives and ideas on how to make small changes in our practice to help us better protect the Earth, stick it to the failing system and still acquire our bits and bobs we love so dearly.

As always, I am no authority on any subject nor am I perfect—but we’re all learning as we go, so let’s dive right in 🌿

A Preface

There are some things that should be made entirely clear before we begin:

You are not a bad person for wanting an aesthetic

You are not a bad person for unknowingly falling into pitfalls. Only if you continue to purposefully do so after knowing better

You are not a bad person for consuming content/objects or for not always making the most sustainable decisions. At the end of the day, we can only control our small part of environmental impact, while the rest is left up to the major corporations that make more pollution than any of us ever will

You are only human. Show yourself some grace and understanding that the internet so lacks.

My Experience in Consumerist Hell

I have fallen victim many times to consumerism in witchcraft. Starting my journey at the ripe age of about ten years old and heavily in the broom closet, I was quickly drawn in by the shiny rocks, the brand new candles and scents, the promise of new tarot decks and pendulums and other fancy, shiny new equipment. I was consuming an online aesthetic along with my ideals, and it distracted me from starting my journey by learning well.

I began to spend my birthday and holiday money on the aesthetic of things. While, granted, I still did buy a few literary resources now and again from my local secondhand bookstore—I was stubbornly ignoring the sage advice to learn and understand first before diving in headfirst.

I purchased statues, crystals, too many tarot decks to use. I purchased osteomancy bones I later returned to the earth, for I had not done enough research to know that that animal was mine to practice with. I had a tankard full of incense sticks, and even a growing pile of books that would not be read. While I liked to consider myself crafty with my homemade Maypole and various hand-bound Grimoires, something was becoming apparent: this was all a distraction.

The aesthetic I was partaking in was providing me with a false sense of progress and practicality.

When I’d go to do a tarot reading, I’d become far too overwhelmed with choosing a deck to read in the first place. When making an offering to a deity, I’d feel pressured to also bolster the altars of all the other deities I’d set up, and with my wide pool, the connections felt muddy. Often times I’d be off-put on a project or spell because I knew I needed to film it and it needed to look nice.

In the long term, I don’t have many of these items today. I’ve sold and donated a vast breadth of them. Feeling overwhelmed costed me a few years retreat from my craft to recuperate. However, what has stuck with me is the knowledge I picked up along the way.

So, What’s the Issue? TL;DR

I’ve noticed a few issues here in making these mistakes myself.

Consumerism absolutely distracts you from learning and your craft

Overconsumption leads to environmental damage. If everyone hoarded supplies, there would not be enough to go around. And with what gets thrown away every year…it paints an ugly wound on the Earth

We damage our learning abilities by not allowing ourselves to be anything less than perfect

The need for aesthetic creates barriers to entry within the community and creates a divide of haves and have-nots

You won’t be able to truly follow your individual path if you are only consuming and not creating for yourself

Consumerist culture promotes appropriation. Metaphysical stores carry items from closed practices (such as white sage and palo santo, or coyote bones) because someone is buying them. Don’t be that person, and find alternatives relating to your own culture instead

Consumerism can influence your spiritual decisions based upon monetary inclinations (where some may sacrifice a quality ingredient over a higher quantity of a lower quality ingredient)

So, what can we do?

Firstly, I want to clarify that I am not against collecting, nor am I against maximalism or the beautiful visual aesthetic we carry as a community.

I am an artist a very visual person and understand the longing for a beautiful home and workspace. However, this aesthetic shouldn’t come at the cost of irresponsibly harming the Earth or another community.

Thus, I’ve compiled a list of small things that I will be incorporating into my practice to make it more mindful and sustainable. I hope that you’ll join me in a few of them.

Minimize Supplies. While I used to have a huge selection of stationary for my Grimoire, I now limit myself to a simple pencil and watercolor set if I’m feeling artistic. This helps me actually use my Grimoire for study, rather than to keep perfect. It’s also friendlier on my wallet!

Thrift Supplies. There are plenty of perfectly good items that get donated daily. You can get high-quality candles and holders, old crystal bowls for altar offerings, spare crafting supplies, fabric for alter cloths and even clothing if you so wish—all for a fraction of the cost new and while saving the planet just a little bit more. Hell, you can sometimes even find good silver!

Share Supplies with your Community. You can create a sort of barter system with other witches in your area. Perhaps you create a sigil for them, and they provide you with a candle spell. Play to your strengths and grow together!

Look for Creative Outlets. Do you really need to go buy an altar statue that’s been mass-produced? Or can you give your deity the personal gift of a drawing, painting or even hand-modeled or hand-carved rendition? This will also deepen your connection to your craft and your magic, and make it more meaningful and stronger. If you really like something, though, go for it!

If you aren’t the artistic sort, consider supporting an artist before going to a large company. While I haven’t purchased from them myself, Blagowood on Etsy has beautiful deity statues carved from wood by their small team in Ukraine for a comparable cost to the standard mass produced metal statues. I consider this extra labor of love going into these pieces and those of similar small companies to be much better energy for my practice. I myself may put out some art prints and other handmade supplies in the future, but I will likely spread them around my community first.

Try Secondhand Books. While not available in every area and further still not as available for witchcraft and occult books, you may strike luck! Not only are secondhand books less expensive, but you’ll be supporting a local business. That’s not to say you can’t buy firsthand books, but some searching around may be beneficial to the earth and to your wallet in the long run.

Be mindful of where you source supplies and decor. If you are a fan of taxidermy decor, make sure that you source cruelty free. Bats can practically never be sourced without cruelty, so if a shop carries them, I’d be mindful of their other specimens. The same goes for if a shop decides to forgo a culture’s wishes and carry supplies sacred to them, such as white sage or dreamcatchers. Supporting folks who turn a profit off of others’ suffering is not something many would wish to include energetically in their craft.

Search the Wild for Tools. Find sticks, flowers and other plants out in the forest. Learn how to rockhound in your area for crystals. Your craft will be more powerful the more connected it is to the land you are surrounded by. Be sure to reference guides for safety and legality!

Get Creative with Purposes. If you are having difficulty finding exactly what you need by thrifting or searching, make another tool multipurpose if it would do the job good enough. Find supplies that are easy to source and work as substitutes for other ingredients (ex. Quartz as a stand in for other stones)

Spend more time Doing. Go out into the woods (safely) and advance your connection to the earth instead of worrying over the perfect item for your collection. Your craft will benefit

At the end of the day, all of this is your decision. Take what you like, and leave what you don’t. Even if we don’t agree, I thank you for your time and open mind. I will continue updating about how I incorporate these steps, and I will also hopefully post more on witchy crafting in the future.

I wish you well, and hope you’ll decide to follow along on our journey!

[therainscene]

I've described myself in the past as "overly-queerbaited" as a way of explaining why it took me so long to come around to Byler endgame as a legitimate possibility... but that's kind of a misleading way of putting it.

Truth is, I've always been too much of a cynical fuck to fall for queerbait... or any other story that promises positive queer rep.

[Sherlock couldn't touch me; I saw this cringe homophobia coming from a mile away. Fans mistaking straight anxiety jokes for meaningful gay subtext was clearly doomed to end in mockery. Nobody deserved to be treated like that... but god, it was easy to predict.]

I think it's a symptom of having grown up under Section 28 -- feeling like I'm being unreasonable for wanting to see queerness normalized is such an ingrained habit that even today I instinctively recoil like a vampire touching sunlight whenever an optimistic queer story falls unrequested into my lap.

But I'm hardly alone in feeling this way -- many queer Millennial and Gen-X fans of Stranger Things are against the idea of Byler because it would ruin the catharsis of watching the gay boy growing up in the same era as we did slowly succumb to the same despair that we did.

[For those who haven't played the VR game: Vecna is speaking in this screenshot.]

There's genuine comfort to be found in painful stories -- this type of catharsis is practically the cornerstone of horror as a genre -- so I can't really fault myself or anyone else for wanting it, despite the obnoxious oversaturation of disappointing queer endings in media.

This is the nostalgia show, after all -- and like it or not, for many middle-aged queers in the target audience, nostalgia is shot through with the pain of homophobia and loneliness.

But do you know who else is a hurt queer(-coded) adult who resents happy endings? This cynical fuck:

Henry personifies despair and loneliness and the dark urge to take our pain out on others -- and when Will is in the picture, I would argue that he also represents internalized homophobia.

Will might represent who we were -- but Henry represents who we've let ourselves turn into.

And I don't think many of us want to admit to that, because that would involve questioning why we have so much in common with the literal villain of the show; why we're still so consumed with self-pity after 20+ years that we're obsessing over the fate of some kid.

I'm not suggesting that wanting a less-than-fairytale ending for a fictional gay boy is equivalent to being a child killer lol. It's perfectly valid to want to see your pain acknowledged, and stories which appeal to that desire deserve to exist.

But between Henry's connection to Will and the cycle of abuse themes of the show, it's clear that this particular story simply isn't about wallowing in the bleakness of growing up gay in the 80s, but about self-actualizing in spite of it all.

So I just can't bring myself to want a "relatable" ending for Will.

As much as I struggle to enjoy positive queer rep, I don't want to be so cynical. I'd thrown up so many walls to protect myself as a teenager that I forgot how desperately I wanted to see just one of those painful queer stories end on the same uplifting note that straight stories were always entitled to: with true love overcoming the odds, saving the day, and living happily ever after.

[But I'm A Cheerleader, a surprisingly fun movie about conversion therapy, is proof that stories like this did exist when I was a teen... but finding them in the pre- and early-internet days amidst so much censorship was a tall order.]

What makes Stranger Things different from most queer stories -- and what allowed it to pierce through my defenses and stab me in the gut -- is that it perfectly mimics those bleak, acceptable-to-the-censors stories from my youth -- only this time, the secret uplifting gay plot twist is real.

Not for the sake of shock value or of grabbing some empty woke points at the last second, but because the plan all along was to slap the audience in the face for believing homophobic lies about the existence of queer happiness.

That's some gourmet catharsis, if you ask me.

Just the possibility that my inner child might finally be vindicated has allowed me to truly let myself want the things I want for the first time in 20 years -- and that's the first step towards finally crawling back out into the sunlight.

Happy Pride Month, everyone. 🌈

[traumasurvivors]

I wrote a blog post about how harmful it can be to have your emotions invalidated growing up. It's here if you want to check it out! I'll paste the text below the read more for people who don't like links, but if you're comfortable, I really appreciate getting hits on my site! It feels really validating after all the work I've put into it. I've opted to not have any ads or anything to monetize my site, so it isn't like those annoying clickbait articles.

The effects of having our emotions invalidated while we’re growing up isn’t talked about enough and it can have lasting effects. This can happen when people say things like “you don’t know real struggles” when a younger person is upset about something they’re struggling with. This might include being told “I’ll give you something to cry about” which implied that the reason you were crying then “wasn’t a big enough reason”. Other people may have had to deal with “worse” problems and so we were told to be thankful for what we had because of what other children experienced. Your feelings of sadness, frustration, disappointment or anger were still real and valid. And you were allowed those feelings.

You may have been told to “stop being so sensitive,” which taught that you weren’t tough enough. You may have also been told “it builds character” which may have made you feel that you had to find a positive lesson in every bad thing you experienced. This can also be part of how people invalidate the seriousness of abuse, and other things that happened to you that were someone else’s fault. If someone doesn’t want to take responsibility, they may minimize what happened to you. They may say it’s okay because “they didn’t mean to do it” or “they don’t know any better,” perhaps because of abuse they went through. Your feelings may be invalidated because someone wants you to “let it go.” How serious they feel it was, or the reasons it happened, are not reasons that your feelings should be ignored or disregarded. Your feelings are valid. You should never have to “let it go.” 

These things that we were told, and many more, taught us that our emotions were bad and wrong. It likely felt invalidating. It may have been damaging And it probably affects how we see the emotions of others. I’ve had people say similar things to me now that I’m an adult, and I think it’s likely they do it because they were told things like these when they were younger, too. Over time, this has led to me invalidating my own feelings. I’ve told myself I should be strong and to avoid such feelings, or that the reasons for them weren’t “big enough”. I told myself that others had it worse than me, therefore I wasn’t allowed to be upset. None of these things helped me. Instead, they actually made me worse off. I bottled stuff up and then began using unhealthy coping methods to deal with the emotions. Having our emotions invalidated as we grow up can be traumatizing in its own way. It also doesn’t teach us how to effectively deal with and process our negative emotions. This can lead to people having fits of uncontrollable rage, spirals of depression and guilt, substance abuse to avoid feelings, and any number of other unhealthy reactions that can cause us more harm and prolong everything or make it worse.

Being unable to cope with my feelings was a big part of me not being able to cope with conflict in my relationships. Downplaying any “bad” thing that happened and ignoring it meant, for instance, I wouldn’t point out and deal with a small (sometimes completely unintentional) mistake. Instead, I let my feelings build without communicating about them and let my resentment build. By the time I acknowledged and spoke about my feelings, the problem was a thousand times worse than it would have been if I had dealt with it quickly. And sometimes it was too late to fix the damage done.

It’s not too late to learn and do better. You don’t have to be thankful it wasn’t “worse”. You don’t have to find a silver lining. While it’s important not to get stuck in our feelings long-term, sitting with them and feeling them and acknowledging you aren’t okay is okay! It’s okay to think something sucks or that it wasn’t fair. It’s okay to feel frustrated or sad over “small” things. Sometimes we don’t even understand why a situation or something has left us having such big feelings, and that’s okay, too! Your feelings are real and valid, even if they don’t make sense to you. And you deserve patience and compassion. Especially from yourself.

When you have negative feelings, if you find yourself minimizing them, or telling yourself why you don’t have a right to feel them, stop and try to be aware of what you’re doing. And allow yourself to feel it if you can. I've often had to remind myself that while it is uncomfortable, I can be uncomfortable and sit with my feelings. Think about if there’s a healthy response you can have to those feelings. For instance, if someone said something hurtful to you, talking to them about it might be a lot more productive than acting like you don’t care. Your feelings are valid. And invalidating them yourself is unlikely to be good for you.

Try to remember that, and try to be kind to yourself.

[marycorcaroli]

zoro and sanji with a reader who is insecure about her scars.

hurt/comfort, my fav boys.

req ♡ : hiii 🥹🩷 i don’t know if you do requests or are accepting them rn but i was wondering if u could write something for sanji and or zoro abt a reader with like scars from fighting or something and reader is insecure about them but they make reader feel better abt it 🥹 love ur blog ur stuff is soooo cute i love it i hope ur having a good day/night!!

mary ♡ : thank you for your request ! ! i enjoyed writing this so much that i even cried a little :( love your scars ! they are part of you and they make you individual 🫂💌 hope you enjoy it ! english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes.

rules ; masterlist.

sanji.

— he knows all about your scars and knows where you got them from. deep down, sanji wishes he could have prevented you from getting them and helped you when you needed his help and he wasn't there, and you could say he blames himself a little.

— he will notice how you look at them every time you look at them and your gaze grows dim, the sparkle in your eyes dims and your shoulders slump more and more with every exhale, you feel so bad about them and sanji is trying to help you, he will do everything in his power so that you can see the beauty in what you have.

— sanji will always be there for you when that moment comes again and you need support, he will be there for you, you don't have to worry, he will never leave you again.

— he wants you to tell him the burden you carry with you to this day, sanji will listen to you carefully, his eyes fixed on you.

"you know, sanji, they're horrible, aren't they? god, they're everywhere, i just can't live with myself because of it...i just h-" you hadn't finished your words before sanji's palms cupped your cheeks and brought them close to your face.

"let me stop you here kitten. please, i want you to know-" sanji's eyes became glassy like he was about to cry, unable to stand the way you hate yourself. "this, this and this — are you and your actions, the way you protected everyone and were brave, your heart is the strongest i've ever met, your soul is the kindest i've ever met. people appreciate you and love you, they know about your scars and they are grateful to you because you saved them and gave them a chance to live, so why don't you give yourself a chance? i'll help you, i'll be there for you, you know i'll never leave you."

— sanji has rarely ever been this sad, usually he doesn't show his emotions at all, but you make him feel so much. you made him a man with a pure soul again and gave him a chance at the love he wanted so badly and that's why he can't stand your sadness.

— he'll kiss every scar you have and say how beautiful they are.

"look, this one? oh, honey, it's so beautiful! i'll kiss it a million times, it makes you look so beautiful and even with it, you're the most beautiful person on this earth."

— he will never let you feel bad about it again, you will get the kindest words in your direction and the brightest smile from sanji, my god he will make you smile no matter what.

zoro.

— oh i think zoro is not good with his words, he is generally silent and not used to expressing his emotions, but the situation with you will not allow him to be silent. you are literally killing yourself around him and he can't do anything? his heart breaks into a thousand pieces when he sees your blank stare and all the pain in them.

— even if you say "it's okay, i'm fine" he will realize that nothing is okay, zoro knows you too well and knows the reason for your heavy sighs.

— he'll start by coming over to you and hugging you as tightly as he can and kissing your temple, trying to convey his warmth and support.

"zoro-"

— before you can say anything else, zoro's lips will join yours and give you the most tender kiss, conveying half of what he couldn't have said. pulling back to breathe a little, zoro will look deep into your eyes, where he always sees his past, present and future, and tell you what he wanted to say a long time ago.

"um, i'm not the best when i need to be, but you are very precious to me and i want you to know how much i love you. remember? you taught me to love myself and to love what i hate. i was alone, but then you came into my life and you saved me, you were the strongest, you came to me and you weren't afraid of anything, i've never met anyone like you before. you went to any lengths to get what you wanted and your scars are proof of that, because you became a leader for everyone, you led people and gave them protection, you were beaten, you fell a lot, but you always got up with your head held high and i love you for that-"

— zoro began to pant in his speech, afraid to say something too much or not to say something.

— he kisses your scars every day and runs his fingers over them, smiling at you with all his teeth so that you realize that your scars are the most beautiful and have a story behind them, you shouldn't be afraid of them or hate them.

— but also zoro will not let anyone else hurt you because of them. he will literally kill those people if they make you cry. yes you are strong but every strong man needs support and he will be yours by doing everything for you, he will go all over the earth and get you what you need if it makes you happy, he is not afraid of anything if it makes your day better.

[tyttamarzh]

Missasinfonia, songs and QSMP…

Hello!! Well, since we all continue to miss Missa, I want to share a little thought.

I don't know if it has already been talked about here, but in the Hispanic fandom of Missa we have his songs very present and some people have not been able to avoid talking about how some of them adapt perfectly to the QSMP.

I want to talk about two in particular whose lyrics I think are perfect for describing Missa's relationship with his family.

The first one is called "Privilegios" (privileges) and I think it describe what Missa is currently going through with Philza. Well, it talks about the anxiety of feeling insufficient for the other and trying to improve but feeling afraid of moving forward (the young Missa from 2014 wrote very deep lyrics). I remember that in a stream he told us about how several of his songs came about and said that he wrote "Privilegios" thinking about us, the people who follow him, because he didn't feel enough for us and is why he always try to do things better. Either way, I think he's perfect for describe his situation with Phil.

The song:

Lyrics

Sometimes I forget my sorrows and things I should do Because ideas slip away, they do not allow us to see Well creating something new means forgetting I would like to be like before and go back to the past

I know how to write the word mature very well But my thoughts don't let me act I don't want to forget, I don't ask for your mercy Because honestly I can fix it.

Chorus I don't know what to do if you're not okay (you're okay!) I don't know whether to lie to me or throw myself at your feet I wonder if I can deserve you Because I didn't earn the privilege.

How can I destroy damn anxiety? If outside my mind is my reality It is not so easy to wish others ill. just so I can free myself

The second song I want to talk about is called "Tarde para el plan B" (Late for Plan B) and I think it could be a message from Missa to Chayanne, some of the things he mentions remind me of what Missa told him in that day of fishing before travel to Japan. He talks about how it's okay to fail and that he shouldn't be overwhelmed by his mistakes, and encourages him to keep going and get better. There is also a phrase that I like to think is very much theirs, since it infers that even if they are not together, he will always see him. Now every time I hear that song I think of them and I can't help it u.u (It's a song created 10 years ago, but I think it's fits perfectly).

The song:

Lyrics

Have you ever wondered… what could happen if after the years, you could come back to the past? Would you have the chance to see what is wrong the bad memories you would be able to erase.

Enjoy moments you didn't see coming feel from the beginning what you should feel but remorse can cut you and repenting would be the final act

Look for alternatives, see how to improve May you know how to handle your situations You don't always get a second chance. you must take advantage of what time gives you

If they give you their hand, don't take our foot don't ask for the moon when it's barely dawning You don't run when you want to calm down do something your soul can bear

[PRE CHORUS] And it's not that it's bad, it could be worse. What doesn't kill you makes you better.

And listen to me, here I will be, watching your actions wherever you are.

sometimes the reasons chase me but they don't want to catch me Sometimes actions are what will count, but you won't count. I prove that what I say is true It's your problem if you don't want to change but honestly sometimes everyone can fail

In the hope that everything is fine There are ideas within your being that grow and create the bad decision than wanting to correct what has already happened

Do what you need to make you feel better. Defeat your demons, destroy that pain Errors exist to know what someone else could fall into

and it's not that it's bad, it could be worse What doesn't kill you makes you better

listen to me, I will be here watching your actions wherever you are

My favorite phrase from this song is: "don't ask for the moon when it's barely dawning" (I just like how deep it sounds xD)

And that's all for now, I've never created a post here, I hope it's okay. Thanks for reading my crazy thoughts. Greetings!!

[shelter-maki0]

I have finally finished my series of fanfic art! I originally tried my hand at fanfic novel in order to these draw arts. (I like drawing)This was a personal activity I undertook for myself. It was my first experience writing a novel, and I made a lot of mistakes.

Since we're on the subject, let me introduce to the contents of my wrote fic.

This fic utilizes the Time-Turner from The Cursed Child, and it's about a 40-year-old Harry who is sent back to the 1940s in an accident. Harry will be working as a DADA professor at Hogwarts.

Harry shouldn't change the past. Just like the lesson demonstrated in Cursed Child. Harry's looks for a way back to the future, watching over Myrtle's death and Tom's misdeeds in order not to change the future. And I added another idea to it.

Harry's soul wants to let Tom's soul back inside, which he has held for many years. It's an impulse that happens regardless of Harry's will, and they're attracted to each other against their will.

The idea was inspired by Harry's realization in Cursed Child that he is still mentally trapped by Voldemort. What if he was not only trapped in spirit, but also in soul? I thought that idea very hot. (The fact that Harry was still mentally trapped by Voldemort as an adult drove me crazy🥵)

Harry watches over Tom's misdeeds, but in the process, Harry and Tom form a bond that's hard to separate. It was a bond that transcended the attraction between souls.

However Harry loves his family and friends, so he faces many conflicts. Tom&Harry grow up with each other's struggles and problems, The two fall in love. This is also the story of Tom discovering what love is.

Tom in this fic is not a psychopath. Tom grows spiritually in this story, but in the end, Harry erases his memories of that growth.

It's because the future must not be changed, as Harry did in of Cursed Child. That's like Harry watched his own parents die. So, in order to turn Tom into Voldemort, Harry erases the changes he made to Tom and returns to the future.

When Harry erases his memory of love and himself from Tom and returns to future, he finds the same peaceful world. It is the correct timeline in which Voldemort was defeated.

Harry is relieved that he has returned to the correct time without changing the future. But one thing in that world had changed drastically.

It was Harry's family. Harry had to pay the price for the crime of arrogance in selfishly erasing Tom's memory.

The details are described in the novel, but ultimately Harry's love destroys Voldemort. But that love also allowed Voldemort to live. Naturally, the history of many people dying in wars has not changed. They would be tied through a bloody history.

Harry despairs of modern times where he has lost his original family and is married to Voldemort. Harry ruined his life. Furthermore, other people's fates that Harry has moved in the past will befall him as karma.

But Tom is very happy✨and the magical world is probably at peace.

The story ends with Harry laughing hysterically as he realizes that a part of Tom's soul has returned in his own soul.

Happy ending? Probably :(

I understand that Cursed Child is a controversial work. But I love Harry in that work. (I like him with his problems) And it's filled with a very tasty setting from a tomarrymort point of view.

If you know any fic on tomarrymort of in Cursed Child timeline, please contact me. I couldn't find one, so I had to make my own🥲

This whole fic was written to be ridiculous and romantic, fun story tone. And it's sooo long😩

As you can see, I'm not very good at writing English. So I don't plan to translate it, but I would be happy if you enjoyed these artworks alone.

Thanks looking for my art :)

[navree]

still on this, THE THING IS the bones of this aren't even actually that bad.

bruce has done something horrendous, something objectively heinous, to his child, and to his child who has already suffered so egregiously in such a short lifespan (until they start letting dick grayson be a man in his thirties jason cannot be older than early twenties, like, college age early twenties, at max he's only barely legally allowed to drink). and he has the perfect out he could use if he wanted to deflect responsibility, it was zur, it wasn't really him, so he cannot really be faulted for what he's done. but he doesn't take it, he chooses the hard path but the right path, and takes responsibility. he acknowledges that even if he wasn't in his right mind, it was still him, a version of him anyway, that did something really, really bad to someone he's sworn to love and protect and who did not deserve anything like that. bruce taking the ownership for his shitty decisions rather than trying to find the loophole, that's good. and it can even work with jason attempting to brush it off, like i mentioned before, jason is canonically a forgiving person who does not prioritize himself, and will continuously turn the other cheek to those who hurt him if they happen to be people he loves. i can absolutely see jason trying to give bruce that out (though not with that fucking therapy speak bullshit, jason todd has never been to therapy because people with healthy coping mechanisms don't create the fucking red hood plan at the big age of sixteen).

the thing is, the thing that could have made this good but didn't because instead they decided to continue making this story shitty from start to finish, is that bruce can't take it. it's good that bruce is owning what happened and bearing the responsibility and referring to it as "what i did to you" rather than passing it off in a bid to get jason to move on. and it can work that jason would try to go "it's fine it wasn't really you" about it. but you lose any good when bruce agrees with him and just goes "yeah you're right. anyway!" what's the point of bruce taking responsibility for a horrific deed in a symbol of growth (and we know it's supposed to be about growth because he prefaces it with talking about how his kids are his family and he needs to acknowledge that to them and let them know what they mean to him) if it's immediately smoothed over? it's utterly meaningless, he might as well have just told jason that he can't be blamed and jason could have just nodded and agreed. the bones were there but then ya fucked it, it literally doesn't mean anything at all. it's the narrative equivalent of going "i have a lit stick of dynamite" only for someone to immediately pour water on it. it has no impact now and it loses any catharsis for the readers, let alone deflating that emotional beat in narrative and making everything just seem stupid. even if jason attempts forgiveness, it doesn't work if bruce accepts it. he needed to say that even if jason is trying to absolve him, he still did it, he still needs to own up to it, jason is still entitled to whatever feelings about it, and he still needs to fix it along with actively working for a redemption and acknowledging his responsibility in that regard. not just go "yeah you're right it's in the past hakuna matata never gonna blame myself for my own shortcomings ever again" and promptly move on to more bullshit.

and like, you're nerfing your own ability to write good stories in the future! for one, it's good if bruce grows from this whole debacle, and does consistently put effort for future issues into not just reminding himself he needs to acknowledge his family, but that he can't take the easy way out and he needs to own up to things even when they were done when he wasn't totally himself. for two, you could have a story where bruce doesn't just have to atone, he has to actually fix his mistake. jason's got this chip in him, bruce has acknowledged that this is something HE did and needs to take responsibility for, have him be the one to fix it! have him be the one to try and find a solution, a way to undo it or nerf it or get it out. have him work to fix this issue that he caused, have him be the one to attempt to mend it and do right by someone he did wrong.

not to mention, it can work from a narrative perspective. batman is a detective, have the search for a cure/fix/whatever be a detective story. false leads, dead ends, red herrings, clues that need to be uncovered, new twists and turns. and for another thing, it works to have bruce try to right a wrong he did to jason specifically. bruce's big failure, in his mind, his greatest unforgivable sin, is that he did not save jason. that jason needed his help and bruce failed him, bruce wasn't there. so it makes sense that, when given the opportunity to make up for that in a way, to be there when he's needed, to help him when he needs it, to essentially make it in time in a way he couldn't on the day jason died, of course he'd throw himself into it with 110%. of course he'd decide that, this time, he won't fail. jason is hurting and in need of help because of him but this time it won't end in the worst way imaginable. this time, bruce is gonna fix it. it would make for great storytelling, and good character moments for bruce AS a character.

but i never get the things i want so instead i got some decent legs to build on that were immediately hacked out from under me in the same fucking panel and the chip thing is likely gonna be solved off-page without any real introspection into bruce doing this really horrible thing to jason or growing from his fuckups or growing in his relationship with jason or jason dealing with this and the two of them actually putting in some work to come back together strong than ever and build a new, better baseline as bruce accepts accountability and jason offers forgiveness once it's earned, for once in his life. and this entire plotline will literally never be brought up again except to explain why tim has a clone-damian suit that looks ugly as shit.

[ponyosmom35]

you don't like me, I don't like you

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability series chapter two!

Synopsis: Reader is new, she's a medic whom is strictly on base. She is not enlisted in the military. She's there due to her older sisters training for Taskforce 141, her sister made a deal with Laswell, the pair were a packaged deal. Ghost hasn't been taking her arrival well as he feels like she's a waste of space. He is not afraid to let her know for the second time since they've met.

warnings: enemies to lovers, cursing, ghost is scary, reader is stubborn

Link to full Liability series:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

After finally finishing the last part of the report Ghost sighs and closes his computer. It was nearly 3 am and he was exhausted. He stands up, stretching his sore limbs slightly, and walks to his door, he shuts the light off and closes it behind him, locking it. In the distance, he could hear banging. He frowns knowing that it was lights out, so nobody should be awake. He notices the light coming from the training center and walks in angrily. He notices the new medic. Younger sister of Sergeant Emma James, one of the finest in the training program. Price had her transferred to his base so he could keep an eye on her, testing to see if she’d be a good fit for 141. He was unsure why Laswell had requested her medic sister be transferred as well. The girl had been nothing but a pain in his ass from the moment she arrived. She didn’t belong there, what use was a medic if she was strictly on base, no military experience.  He scoffs as he notices her incorrect form as she punches the bag over and over, her stance was off and her hands weren’t even taped correctly. He stomps over to her and turns off the music she had playing in the background. She whips around and glares at him angrily. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” she demands, snatching the speaker from him

“You shouldn’t be out here, its light out”

“I don’t care” 

“Go back to your room, no one is allowed out here”

“Then why are you here?” she questions, staring at him with raised eyebrows 

“The rules don’t apply to me”

“So you’re above it all now?” she asks sarcastically 

“I’m the Lieutenant” he deadpans 

“I don’t really care to be honest” 

“Listen, I don't think you understand. You don't belong here. You're not a solider. You are a medic. So, get back to your rom and stay there. Otherwise, I'm going to have to report you to Captain Price for insubordination. Do I make myself clear?” Ghost warns, his tone incredibly threatening. It takes everything in her not to show her fear.  

“I’m not enlisted in the military”

“Listen, you may work for Laswell, but you're still on a military base, and that makes you subject to military law. Go to your room, or I will order the guards to take you there myself. Understood?”

“what guards Luitentant? looks like it’s just you and me here” she says gesturing to the empty room.

“Don't test me, medic. Just go back to your room, and don't come out until morning. Is that a clear enough order for you?”

“like I said, I don't take orders from you Ghost” she sneers 

“You're making a mistake. Let me spell it out for you, Either you agree to do what I say and when I say it, or I'll call Laswell and have her pull you out of this task force and send you back to the states. Is that clear?”

“First you bitch about my lack of training, now you're bitching at me to go to bed! make up your goddamn mind!”

“So that's your attitude then? Fine, I'll call Laswell right now and explain the situation. There’s an endless amount of army medics who do us good in the field. You’re easy to replace”

“fuck you” she says as she tries to push past him, making sure to hit him with her shoulder

“Listen!” he snaps, grabbing her arm and pull her back towards him, his tone growing more serious as his expression darkens.

“ I've been trying to be patient with you, but that time is over. Now listen up, because I'm going to say this once. You are here because you're part of a team and you're expected to behave like it. And that means doing what I say, no questions asked. Do you understand?”

“If I say yes will you finally shut the fuck up?”

“I wasn't finished speaking, and you will show a little more respect to me and this unit. Now, I asked you a question. Do you understand?”

“yes! I heard you perfectly clear” she responds as she turns her back on him and walks towards the sleeping quarters. 

“Fucking hell” 

-

The next morning Ghost had asked Soap to bring her to his office the next morning. He could not have her behave that way around the others. Disrespect was not permitted here. Someone needed to teach her. It dones’t take long for a knock to appear at his door. 

“Come in” he yells gruffly 

Soap opens the door for her and pats her on the shoulder gently. He sends Ghost a look before shutting it behind him. Ghost motions for her to enter and sit down at the chair across from his desk. “Now that you’ve slept on it, what have you got to say for yourself? I hope you've got a real good excuse for that behavior last night”

“what do you want me to say? want me to tell you I'm on my period or that I'm just that naturally charming?” she says sarcastically, her arms crossed as she sits down. 

“What I want to know is why you thought it was okay to go against direct orders from a superior officer”

“I see that we're going in circles here, so why don't we just cut the shit. you don't like me, I don't like you. For whatever reason you've been out to get me since I got here. Look man I'm just trying to do my job, so if you want me to stop 'defying orders'”  she quotes him sarcastically “then you should just let me do what I came here to”

“You don't get it, do you? It has nothing to do with me not liking you or some personal vendetta that you think I have against you. The fact of the matter is, you're not qualified to be a part of this operation. You don't have the training, skills, or experience to handle yourself in a dangerous situation. What you're doing is putting yourself and other members of the task force at risk, and I'm not going to tolerate it.”

“my position has nothing to do with the field, I'm strictly on base!” she exclaims 

“That is not the point. You're still on duty, and you're still responsible for the safety and well-being of the task force. You're a liability, not a help, when it comes down to it. If we need an immediate evac and the other actual medics are already in the field then what? we send you in because you're all we got. The last thing I need right now is to worry about keeping you safe instead of focusing on the mission. So, do you understand why you're nothing but a burden to me on this task force?”

“I've been called many things in my life, but never a burden. that's a new one thanks Ghost you truly never fail to surprise me! But you aren't gonna bully me out of here. Laswell wanted me here and I'm gonna do my job” she says standing “Also for future reference, the medic that could be saving your life one day really isn't the person to piss off”

“Oh trust me, I'm well aware” his skull-covered face inching closer as he leaned forward, his dark eyes boring into hers. She stands tall and refuses to let him see how truly nervous he made her. ”But while we're giving life advice, let me give you some. If I were you, I would be very careful about who you choose to piss off. Because if I have to deal with your bullshit again, I'll make sure you regret it. Is that clear?”

She salutes him sarcastically and walks out the door. Ghost rolls his eyes and sighs in frustration. 

“Bloody hell” he murmurs before going back to his paperwork. 

chapter 3: https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733828281298780160/show-him?source=share

[anki-of-beleriand]

In the darkness you said goodbye

Summary: Wanda makes a mistake, and she thinks she can tlak herself out of it.

Warnings: Cheating, F/M sex, bittersweet ending, Wanda is to blame.

Pairing: Reader/Wanda - Reader/Carol - Wanda/Vision

Author's note: This story is an experiment, mostly I want to see how it goes as a one shot, and second just want to see how it goes with Wanda. I hope you guys liked it, as always English is not my mother tongue so forgive me my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Second part: In the light you love her

 Winter was your favourite time of the year.

The snowflakes falling on the ground, and the sound of Christmas jingles around the streets was enough to put you on a good mood. It had been five years since Thanos was defeated it and the Blip was reversed changing the shape of the universe, the stories people told were now shaped for a past that defied everything they knew.

Midgard had certainly changed in the last years; new heroes were born and the old ones were ready to step aside and give way to the new generations. Your face lifted up to the Avengers Tower standing proudly in midtown Manhattan while the cold of the early afternoon surrounded you in a comforting embrace.

You smiled to yourself, music blasting through your ears while your hand closed around the small box you had worked your ass off to get for this special date. Your phone vibrated, the ringtone you attached to Natasha’s name breaking through the music and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the sudden interruption.

“Yes, mom?” The voice at the other end chuckled, and you allowed yourself a tender smile.

“I’m just making sure you’re okay, kiddo, no need to be a brat about it.”

“I am okay, more than okay, I’m super okay!”

“So, you’re nervous.” The older woman replied, and you gulped chewing on your lower lip.

“I am, I’m super nervous.” You confessed, the hand closing around the small box as you spoke. “Tasha, I love her, I…god when I lost her in the Blip, I almost lost myself to darkness…”

“I remember, Y/N, I know it was hard for you.” And Natasha remembered those dark times, you had always been an open gate to darkness.

The very nature of your species made it easier for your heart and soul to give into darkness, your powers were not only a manifestation of your mutation but also a warning sign of what you were capable of doing. But Natasha never gave up on you, and from the moment Thor brought you in and she took care of you, you became the woman Natasha knew you could be. Then, Thanos happened and Natasha could see for the very first-time what Thor and even Loki meant when they said that you were born out of pure blackness. You became unfeeling, careless, cold and almost cruel…

The moment you lost Wanda, on that battlefield watching her disappeared, that was the first time Natasha feared you.

You turned around destroying every single servant that Thanos had brought with him, your shadows covering Wakanda just before they perished in screams of pure agony. Darkness had covered you, and everything would have ended in disaster if Steve hadn’t knock you out; not many understood the deepness of your love for Wanda, but Natasha had been there to see the growing friendship, the affection and the tender moments stolen in between their teenage years.

Natasha had seen the relationship grow from afar, and she could tell you were far to in love with Wanda to not suffer with her lost. But even after you woke up, it wouldn’t be until everyone went looking for Thanos in space that you really broke.

Natasha still remembered when you crumbled to your feet after having destroyed an entire fleet of Chitahuri while looking for Thanos with Carol. How you cried until she put her arms around you, and you finally let go of the pain of losing the woman you loved with all your heart and might. You cried for days, and soon every surviving Avenger was afraid of losing you, of not being able to reach out to you. Natasha hated to see the suffering in your face, the whimpers leaving your lips as you tried to talk and explain that you were hurting so badly you didn’t know what to do.

It took time, but eventually you started recovering. Tony and Steve, as well as Carol and Rocket helped in the process. From them you learnt about your past, and your planet, they talked to you about your origins and your powers, and Natasha was happy to see you recover.

You became not only an Avenger, but also an amazing woman.

And now, after five years of having defeated Thanos and recovering the woman you had been in love since you were fifteen years old, it was just fair for you to have a happy ending.

“You have grown so much since I first met you, Y/N. Wanda is a lucky girl, you know?”

“Nah, I’m the lucky one, I just hope…I mean…” You stood by the gates of the Tower, trembling while cleaning up your sweaty hands. “We’ve been talking about having children and all, and I just… I don’t know if I’m a mom material but…”

“You are. You are, Y/N, now stop stalling and go get her, kiddo. I love you.” Natasha stated in that motherly tone you had come to love as well, you chuckled when you heard Yelena in the background and Natasha cursing in Russian.

“Okay, okay, don’t kill auntie Lena, and stop cursing. I call you when …. when I can.”

“Please have loud, sweaty sex with your soon to be fiancée, and call us when you finish!”

“Yelena!”

You chuckled shaking your head while hanging up.

The building was mostly empty, there was only one security guard that greet you with a polite smile and a mug of hot chocolate on his hands. You went past him into the elevators, your finger selecting the floor Tony had given to Wanda when he first finished the Avengers Tower.

You stood there hearing the music, your hands completely sweaty while your heart hammered hard against your chest. There was a deep void inside your stomach, and you couldn’t help but lifted your eyes to the numbers on the screen. You knew that day would be the day, today had been your last active day as a hero, and Tony had already hired you as normal everyday scientist in one of his investigational facilities. Wanda still thought you were in Kamar Taj with Strange and a girl that had shown to his doorstep, so tonight would be a great surprised that you hope would finally give you your happily ever after.

When Wanda came back, trying to build your relationship with her had been hard.

Wanda found it difficult to adapt herself to a life she was not used to, she found it hard to find out you had travelled around the galaxy being a hero with someone like Carol Danvers and Rocket. At first, you found it funny that Wanda was jealous of Carol, but then it was not only Carol but also your new house in Westview, or the bicycle you bought to go around the city. It was about your job at Stark’s Industries and your lack of interested in being a hero. Then it was you leaving your hero life behind and wanting to be normal, or to gather the new generation of heroes…

Your relationship with Wanda had been rocky, to say the last, after she came back.

But you had learnt that time and communication fixed everything, and after a while the both of you talked about what you really wanted. About your future, about your hopes…and you realized that Wanda wanted nothing more than a life with you. To build a family, and to be happy. She was finding it hard to do so, in a world that had moved on without her, and you made sure to let her know every day that your life had been nothing without her in it.

You smiled putting the ring from your pocket.

Now, finally you could close the last gap and asked Wanda to marry you. You had given up everything in your old life, to start your new life with Wanda.

“Okay, here we go…”

The door of the elevator open and you stepped inside the living room. The place was decorated with candles, and the sweet aroma of Wanda’s favourite perfume. You furrowed your brows, looking around the place you could see her back, and some of her things scattered around.

You walked down the halls, stopping dead on your tracks when your eyes fell upon something you did not recognize. It was a dark jacket. You looked around the scene, and then you caught the sounds. You felt dizzy, your body burning while your stomach dropped leaving a foul taste in your throat.

The hallway was dark, most of the doors were closed but the last one at the end of the hallway. Yellowish light came from it, and as you approached it you could tell it was the light coming from different candles. You were trembling, all of a sudden you felt cold and empty.

A heavy weight positioned above your shoulders, and your heart trembled at the sight before you.

Wanda was on the bed, sprawled and legs wide open with Vision on top of her. Both were naked, and Wanda was throwing her head back grabbing the bedsheets tightly, Vision was trusting inside her whispering in her ear.

Your eyesight blurred for a moment, but your presence went unnoticed and just as you came in, you left. You were staggering around the hallway until your knees gave up and you fell with a soft thud, tears rolling down your eyes and the ring you had made for Wanda fell to the floor.

A part of you, the darker part, ignited a fire inside you ready to scream and bring down the hole building with Wanda and Vision in it. You wanted to make them suffered, for them to experiment the sheer pain you were experimenting at the moment. But another part, the one you had gained with your family and friends simply told you to go.

And so, you did. Falling into the shadows you disappeared leaving behind the ring you had made to Wanda as promised to her, a commitment, and show of your love for her.

Later that same night, Wanda cringed shivering as she exited her room. She placed a hand on her face, shamed and self-disgust filling up her mind, just as she thought of the passion that Vision ignited in her. She knew she needed to put a stop to the affair with Vision; she knew that she had to do it soon if she really wanted to move forward with Y/N and actually started the family you two had talked about. But Wanda was afraid to do so, she was afraid of the consequences, of Vision not understanding, of anyone finding out…

Wanda was strolling down the hallway until her feet stepped on something hard on the floor. She furrowed her brows, and her expression soon changed as she realized it was a small box. At first she thought this was one of Vision’s attempts to get to her heart, but then Wanda felt her stomach dropped and her heart ached painfully in her chest.

Inside the box there was a ring.

And suddenly, Wanda realized how stupid she had been.

Wanda stood there, her eyes wide open filled with tears. She made her way to the door, but you were no longer there, the room was still dark and when she turned on the lights her gazed fell upon the dark box you had been carrying for almost five years.

“Wanda…” Vision said behind her, but Wanda couldn’t do or say anything at all, her eyes completely fixed on the ring you had brought to her.

It was a start.

A green start resembling a spiralling galaxy, the shank of the ring made of white gold.

Your name and hers written around it, the date you two said I love you to one another right beside them.

It was at moment that Wanda realized how stupid she had been.

_________________________________________

“You really have some nerve to come here, Wanda.” Natasha stood by the door glaring at the redhead, her arms crossed though she could sense Yelena getting her weapons ready.

“Natasha, I need to talk to her.” Wanda was on the verge of desperation.

For more than a month she had tried to reach out to you, to try and get to talk to you and explain herself. Wanda knew that whatever you had seen, whatever had happened, she would need to do more than explain what had happened. Why she did it. You were nowhere to be found, and everyone had closed their doors to Wanda who only got disgusted faces, and harsh words thrown at her.

She knew she was risking a lot by coming here, but it was her last chance.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you.” Natasha stated, her eyes glaring at Wanda. “Now, if you excuse me…”

“Natasha, please…” Wanda all but begged, she had tears in her eyes and it was quite evident she had not sleep in quite a while.

Natasha hesitated; she wondered if Wanda understood the gravity of her sin.

The former Black Widow almost went to the Tower to kill with her bare hands the red head. Y/N had come home, a scream of pure pain leaving her lips just as tears rolled down her cheeks. It took Natasha almost an hour to get Y/N to tell her what had happened, and she was so heartbroken she curled up on her bed and cried while holding a hand to her chest.

No one knew the reality of a broken heart.

How much it hurt, how it made your body cold and ached as if a thousand knives went through your every nerve. Y/N spent three days on her bed, ignoring everyone and everything around her. For a brief moment, Natasha had been afraid of the darkness growing in your eyes, day in and out seeing it covered your iris and expanding little by little.

“You broke her heart, Wanda.” Natasha stated through gritted teeth. “You broke her, and she loved you more than life itself. I can’t tell you just how much she loved you and how much you messed up…”

“I know! I know! I know!” Wanda screamed putting a hand on her face. “I know screwed up! I KNOW!”

Natasha seemed unfazed by the outburst, and Wanda broke in front of the former Widow pleading with her eyes.

“Please, I just need…”

“She is not here.” Natasha finally said.

“What?” Wanda winked confusedly; Natasha hesitated before speaking.

“She left two days ago.”

“Where? Why?” Wanda panicked, she glanced at Natasha then back at Yelena. “Where is she?”

“She left the planet; Loki came in and took her away.” This time around it was Yelena, the blond-haired woman smirked nastily at Wanda. “And we don’t know when she will be back, perhaps never, and if she is lucky, she may meet someone that won’t break her heart.”

Wanda stood there, lost and crushed by this news. Natasha hesitated for a moment, a part of her feeling this was not the best way to give the news. The woman stepped forward moving past Wanda.

“She is not coming back anytime soon, Wanda, so if I were you I would just let go.” Natasha turned to look at Wanda. “She waited for you, she almost lost herself for you, she was going to marry you…”

“I know! I just…god, this is so mess up!” Wanda wrapped her arms around herself. “I need to…I…I just…I need her…”

“You’re too late for that, Wanda.” Natasha then turned around and left.

Wanda stood there.

She was alone, lost and desperate, and without a single clue as to where you were or how to reach you out. Not a single way to talk to you, to explain to you…Wanda fell to her knees, her hand reaching out for the ring in her pocket. Tears rolling down her cheeks, and her mind a pool of confusing thoughts.

She would wait if it was necessary.

She knew that you were hurt, and she would wait for you to have a chance to explain herself to you.

And then, she would make sure to show you that Wanda was yours. That you held her heart in your hands.

It would be quite a while before she would see you again. But Wanda would wait, just the same way you did.

_________________________________________

Winter was back.

You lifted your eyes to the sky, closing your eyes while enjoying the feeling the cold on your face. Your ears twitched catching the sound of laughter inside the house, turning around you saw Kamala Khan squealing like a fangirl while hugging Carol tightly. You smirked at the sight, Carol was still getting used to such shows ow affection and Kamala was certainly someone without any limitations in her PDA.

“Y/N!! Oh, did you hear?? I will help you guys move!!!” Kamala went back inside her house screaming at the top of her lungs, “AMMI!”

“Move?” You asked raising a single eyebrow, Carol winced making her way to where you were standing.

“Well, I was thinking that perhaps I shouldn’t be moving around so much, and that staying on Earth is not such a bad thing, after all.” Carol shrugged looking away from you, her lip caught in her teeth with her mind filled with thoughts and possibilities.

Overthinking her every step as always.

“I think Monica is going to love it, Kamala is screaming her appreciation…”

“And you?” Carol asked this time around facing you with just a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. “You’re back again, what would you do?”

You had been away for two years, while you never stopped contacting Natasha and the others you had left earth with a single thing in mind. To heal. Your heart had been broken to pieces the moment you found about Wanda’s infidelity, you had cried and cursed and almost turned to darkness until you found yourself at the hands of Carol Danvers. For the second time, the woman took it upon herself to help you out, out of friendship she never thought she would get a chance with you; not after having heard of your story with Wanda and certainly not after she was back. Her odds didn’t improve one bit when she saw how heartbroken you were, Carol knew by then you needed a friend and that was what she offered you.

A friendship that, little by little turned into something else.

Still, there were times in which Carol doubt herself and the relationship she had forged with you.

You softened your featured, your arm wrapping around her waist putting her closer to you. She leaned in, nuzzling your neck before placing a soft kiss on your jaw looking for comfort. You smiled lowering your face until your lips met hers, the kiss was slow and sweet, and Carol smiled into the kiss.

“So, that’s an idea of what you want to do?”

“Ugh, gross.” Monica made a face while Kamala was looking at the scene with a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

“Okay, ladies, nothing to see here.” Carol tried to shush them away, but you wrapped your arms around her again, you turned her around and kissed her once more making Monica gaged and Kamala giggled nervously.

“Let’s give them a show, Danvers.” You mumbled in between kisses; she punched you lightly on the arm flustered stepping away from you before she decided to just follow your lead.

“Very well, I think it is time for me to go back to work but…” Monica turned to Carol wrapping her arms around her. “Please, Auntie Carol, tell me when you get there and don’t forget to keep an eye on the plane.”

“I won’t Captain trouble.” Carol said affectionately, Monica smiled sighing as she stepped back.

“Don’t be a stranger, Rambeau.” You gave her a hug, and the other woman glanced at you then back at Carol.

“You’re one to say, Natasha Romanoff is still waiting for you and you heard Fury…”

You winced fidgeting on your spot, you had heard Fury and Natasha was also waiting for you. You nodded scratching the back of your neck.

“I guess is inevitable.” You shrugged. “I will tell you all the gross details of these meetings.”

“I will wait for them anxiously, take care of Auntie Carol please.”

“I will, don’t worry.” You winked at Monica and stepped back to join Kamala and Carol inside the Khan’s family.

“Hey, are you okay?” Carol fixed your hair behind your ears, you nodded curtly pecking her nose.

“Yeah, let’s eat and then I will take you home, Captain Marvel.”

Earth had changed in the last two years she had been here.

The street were loudly, and the technology had certainly improved a lot. The stories were different now, most of them included the newest heroes in the cities, and the evilness lurking in the shadows.  You enjoyed the soft purr of the bike you had bought in Jersey City, Carol had her arm wrapped around your abdomen leaning against your body while you drove down the streets of a city you had not seen in a long time.

Up until now, you had spent your time in the guest room at the Khan’s family home. You had tried to say no, but Ms. Khan was very adamant that they would not stay in a hotel or something equally dangerous. And Kamala was beyond excited to have them both in her home, at least until all the moving details had been arranged and soon they would be driving down to Luisiana.

To say you were nervous was an understatement, it didn’t mater you had spoken with Natasha almost every day since leaving earth. Or that you had been kept up to date with the gossip around the Avengers and the newest additions thanks to Yelena, it was the fact that this little party would include Wanda as a guest. Two years ago, you had left your home running away from your feelings, your heart had been broken and you never thought it would mend. And while it took some time to get it back together, to actually allow yourself to feel and fall in love again.

You had done so.

Carol had become your world, but this time around you were careful to not lost yourself into the relationship. Carol was not an easy person, and while the road to happiness had been a bumpy one, you wouldn’t change a single thing of how everything happened. Not if it meant that at the end of the day she would wake up with you beside her, a mug filled with coffee and a morning of meaningless talks watching the space in the window of a ship.

“Wow, I don’t remember this building being here on my last visit.” Carol stated getting off the motorcycle, she glanced up to the building then turning to you.

“I bet Tony made some arrangements.” You smiled turning to the main gates, your hand seeking out hers.

“Are you ready?” Carol inquired tilting her head, you nodded curtly and then without wasting any more time, you two entered the building.

There were many familiar faces, but soon you found yourself being wrapped in a tight hug by none other than Natasha. You softened your face and your arms wrapped around her pulling her close to you, Carol watched from a distance, her lisp curling into a gentle smile before she turned around and left for the bar. These moments were for you, and you had been waiting to come back and see the people you love, Carol could understand that much. With a heavy heart, and insecurities filling up her mind, the woman made her way to the bar never noticing the redhead glaring daggers at her back.

“You look so good, Y/N, did you cut your hair?” Natasha put you at arm’s length, her eyes twinkling while the examine you with care.

“Yeah, a little and well I have to be on top physical form to be in space, so…” You smiled sheepishly, Natasha chuckled placing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“How have you been?” Natasha finally asked and you just shrugged.

“Fine, I guess. I just come here due to a mishap of  powers between Carol, Monica and a girl called Kamala.”

“So I heard, quite the adventure I guess.” Natasha then hit you on your arm.

“Hey!”

“So if it hadn’t been because of that you wouldn’t have come?” Natasha was a little hurt by this, you shook your head lowering your gaze before shrugging.

“No, of course not. I did have plans…” You stated and Natasha was about to speak but trailed off just as her eyes caught another person coming towards them. “I knew I have to come back, and I was dying to see you all, I was just… waiting…”

“You were waiting for what?” Wanda asked behind you, and she wait anxiously for you to turn around.

You thought the moment you heard her voice again, that you saw her again your resolution would crumble and that perhaps you would fall under her spell once more. One of your greatest gears included your weakness to perhaps leave behind your relationship with Wanda and moved forward. But this never happened, and soon after you started healing it was easier to move on. Now, after two years, you stood before her and you realized you had been scared for nothing.

Of course, your stomach dropped, your palms started sweating and your head fluttered in your chest when you saw her again. She was still as beautiful as you remembered her, her voice still carried with it such a powerful tinge, something you had always loved from her.

But something else had changed, the shivering in your heat came along with an old pain and rage that went through your senses. You clenched your fists closed, but remained impassive while Wanda offered a tentative smile.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Wanda chewed on her lower lip before speaking, “do you think we could talk?”

You glanced out of the corner of your eyes to see Natasha standing closed to you, Yelena had stopped talking with a brunette in a dark suit, and both of them were walking towards you. You then lifted your eyes and soon you found the eyes of Carol looking at you with curiosity, after a moment the other woman smiled and nodded in understanding.

“I think we need to talk, Wanda, lead the way.”

Two years ago, on a day such as this, you discovered the pain behind a betrayal.

You glanced at the sky, the snowflakes falling slowly down the streets, the breeze caressing your warm cheeks while you waited patiently for Wanda to speak. The other woman had changed as well, she looked thinner, and tired, her hair was longer and she seemed quiet and alone. Wanda turned her stare to you and you could see their love and regret and loneliness.

“Why didn’t you stay?” She asked, her voice breaking by the end of the question.

You raised a single eyebrow snorting while shaking your head.

“You really asking that?”

“The ring…You were there…” Wanda started and you winced remembering that day, the old pain coming back as you remembered how it felt.

“I could have killed you and Vision.” You stated looking away from her. “I was so mad, so heartbroken, Wanda…I knew if I had stayed or said something…well, it would have ended in a bloodbath.”

Wanda winced wrapping her arms around herself, “I just…god, I’m sorry. I just…I’m so sorry for everything, I never…”

“What, Wanda? You never what?” You asked harshly, Wanda stepped back lowering her face.

“I was afraid, and I wasn’t sure of what I wanted, okay? I came back and you were already all over me, and I really didn’t know what you were expecting of me, and he was just there listening to me and…”

“And I didn’t? Wanda I asked you, everyday I tried to make our communication to work!” You huffed rolling your eyes at the excuses. “What were you hoping for, Wanda? A child? A dick? What?”

Wanda had thought about it in the last two years, she thought about her reason and why she had entered into a senseless affair with Vision. The truth was she didn’t know exactly why, she always thought that you had everything resolved by the time she came back, you had five years to organise your life and made decision for the future whereas Wanda had been trapped in nothingness until she came back to face a world she didn’t recognize. Vision had been the only one who understood, the only one who let her talk and expressed the way she wanted to about the situation, and in the midst of those conversations Wanda fell into passion and desire to make her life and indecision more bearable.

“I was just hoping everything went back to normal, and that…I didn’t feel so lost.” Wanda mumbled knowing her words meant nothing to you at the moment.

You sighed shaking your head, “I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

“Y/N, I just…I…search for you.” Wanda mumbled, you nod curtly at her.

“I know.”

“I want to explain, to tell you that it meant thing.” Wanda stated lowly. “I wanted to tell you that I Lov…”

“Don’t.” You cut her off before she could continue. “Don’t say it, you don’t have any right to say to me anymore, Wanda.”

Wanda stepped forward, holding back her tears she made sure her eyes were locked with yours, her heart beating fast and her whole-body trembling.

“I love you.” Wanda said softly. “I’m still in love with you, and I just…”

“Can you hear yourself, Wanda? If you love me you wouldn’t have done…you would have come to me first! We would have talked about this, about us!” You exclaimed waving your arms around. “You wouldn’t have cheating on me just because you felt alone or misunderstood.”

“Y/N…” Wanda started but she cut off as soon as someone entered the balcony you two were in.

“Hey, baby, are you…Oh, sorry, I’ll be inside if you…” Carol interrupted glancing at you then at Wanda, before turning around and leaving.

Wanda clenched her jaw, turning to you eyes that flickered between red and green.

“So, you left two years and you have replaced me already?” Wanda asked bitterly, you snorted shaking your head.

“Nobody can replace you, Wanda. You will always be my first love.” You stated softly, your heart fluttering at the veracity of your words.

Wanda clenched her eyes close, you closed the distance between you and her standing right in front of her. Your eyes drifting for a moment to see the ring you wanted to give her on her left hand.

“Wanda I loved you with my whole heart, I thought you and I will be forever but after I saw you with Vision, I couldn’t take it.” You mumbled placing a hand on hers, Wanda shivered and she knew there was a finality in your tone.

When she imagined this meeting the outcome was different inside her head. She always thought you would come wanting to go back but not without some kind of request or penance so everything could back to normal. She never imagined the outcome of this would be for Wanda to experience the same broken heart you had experience two years ago.

“I didn’t want this to happen.” Wanda mumbled wrapping her arms around herself, you pressed you lips together stepping back a little. “I thought we…”

“Me too.” You replied.

Wanda was about to take the ring away, but you stopped her offering a bittersweet smile to her.

“I made it for you, so…it’s yours, Wanda.”

The other woman broke into a half smile, but she was looking just miserable, she caressed the ring and the tears fell down slowly.

“Are you…are you happy?” She finally asked, you scowled at that question.

“Are you?”

Wanda sighed looking away before nodding, “yeah, yeah I am.”

You pressed your lips together, lowering your eyes before looking at her.

“That’s good.”

The lie rolled out of her lips easily, and while it was quite evident you knew Wanda was lying neither one of you was about to say anything at all. Wanda put her arms around herself, she wanted to say something else, perhaps asked how long passed after you left for you to get together with Carol, or how exactly did you two ended up being a thing. But Wanda knew that wouldn’t help at all, if anything would make her bitter.

“I guess…you better go back, I…Carol must be waiting for you.” Wanda turned her back to you, her eyes to the city.

You stood behind her, your hand lifting to reach out to her.

For a brief moment, it seemed as if you were to look for her, perhaps to talk or say something, anything that might change your situation and hers. You thought the moment you went back to her, that perhaps the old flame would ignite and that you and Wanda could offer one another a second chance. You were afraid that perhaps what you felt for Carol was just…revenged, and just a sense to fill up a void left by the broken heart.

But it wasn’t like that.

And while a part of you would always love Wanda, she wasn’t the person you were in love with.

Carol was playing with her drink on corner far away from everyone else, she was looking gloomy while pursing her lips. You softened lightly, strolling directly towards her.

“Hey, Marv, why are you pouting?” You chuckled when she lifted her face towards you, her eyes going wide before she tried to play it off.

“I’m no pouting.”

“You certainly look like someone who is pouting.” You chuckled leaning in to peck her cheek.

“I’m no pouting, and what are you doing here? I thought you were still talking to Wanda…” Carol looked away trying to conceal her emotion, she didn’t want to look jealous or insecure, she was supposed to be stronger than this.

You leaned in wrapping your arms around her waist, “mm, I was but now I’m not and I think I want to go home, so…shall we leave?”

Carol narrowed her eyes at you, it took her a moment before she placed a hand on your cheek.

“Are you okay?” She asked, tilting your head slightly.

“I am.” You replied smiling softly.

“Did you two…clear things up?” Carol didn’t want to look eager, nor did she want to sound desperate. But she had always known the conversation with Wanda was something you needed to do.

It was a chapter of your life that was waiting to be closed.

“I did, we did.” You hesitated before continuing. “I realized that a part of me would always love Wanda, she was my first love.”

Carol nodded in understanding, her mind soon brought Maria to memory, and she could relate to what you were saying. She was observing you with care, your eyes gleaming lightly as they locked yours, and Carol felt her heart skipped a beat at the softness and love she found there.

“Then, I realized that you are the love of my life, Carol.” You said it so simply Carol felt her abdomen and her heart flutter, making her body tingle at the revelation. “I am in love you with you, and I can’t imagine anybody else I want to be with but you.”

You had heard before how many people stated Carol Danvers was a flat, unfeeling individual, that she was just too unemotional, and quite incapable of expressing emotion. You had discovered this was far from the truth, Carol was someone who felt too much and suffered in silence; she was just selective with the people she allowed in her life.

“I love you to, Y/N.” She mumbled just before closing the distance and kissing you softly.

“Mhm, I think we better go.” You said smiling goofily at her, “wait until we tell Kamala where we were.”

“Oh, no please, she is going to start arguing with us because we didn’t bring her over.”

“Don’t worry, I have it covered, I ask everyone for their signature.” You replied showing a small notebook you had stolen from Kamala’s room. “I think with this we are forgiven.”

“My hero.” Carol stated rolling her eyes, you winked at her before grabbing her hand and dragging her around the room to say goodbye.

Wanda watched from a distance as you and Carol said goodbye, your face never lost the brightness brough by your smile and your hand never left that of Carol who was following you with tenderness and love all around the room. The young witch knew she had messed up her chances with you, she knew the moment she saw you entered the Avenger’s Tower that what would happen that day would be a final conversation more than anything. Wanda felt her heart break to pieces, her eyes filling up with tears as she finally realized she was alone.

She had tried to cover her mistakes, and her emotions with a meaningless night of passion that had costed her happiness.

Now, as you entered the lift with a laughing Carol by your side, she realized that you had said goodbye to her a long time ago.

That day Wanda had broken your heart while hidden in the shadows.

[destinedhope]

piggy backing off my last two post i do kinda have a fic idea inspired by penelope and odysses, this is gonna be completely different then the edit ideas i had, again ill try to explain as coherently as i can sorry in advance. anyone is free to use this idea im probably never gonna get around to actually writing it myself

shortly after sealing DBK under a mountain, the celestial heavens(sorry im sleepy and i cant remember if thats the proper name) want to keep wukong on a leash and control him, to do this they come up with the plan to basically force him to marry a celestial and if he refuses there will be consequences for FFM, to avoid this he agrees on the condition that he doesnt have to choose a suitor until he has a fully trained successor, something he doesnt think would ever happen but he needs something to give him more time and freedom(hes still grieving macaque who he had been married to before their fight that killed him).

all the suitors come and go over the years(basically like once a year or so they all stay at FFM for a time and he has to spend time with them) and them he meets mk, who he honestly wants to be his successor, but hes still not ready to choose a suitor, so he does procrastinate as much as hes allowed with training mk, the celestials getting more and more impatient as mks power grows and wukong still hasnt declared him fully trained

and then everything with the LBD happens and macaque is back, but all that happens as canon so there a lot of tension, and wukong hasnt told anyone about the deal that the celestials bound him too.

maybe the crew and macaque dont learn about this deal until season 4 when azure lion finds out about it(or maybe they find out sooner or not until after season five idk lots of options) after killing the jade emperor and tries to uphold the deal be making himself the only suitor(we all know how some of these people get with wukong, hes to pretty for his own good), even after azure and the jade emperor are dead wukong is still bound by this deal, season 4 and 5 happen semi normally other then this being a background problem and maybe the suitors make a nuisance of themselves more during season 5 plot, but they really dont start putting the pressure on wukong until after the world is saved

something something macaque is the only exception to the rule of marrying outside the celestial suitors(since you know they were married before but he has to prove that to the magic or whatever that wukong is bound with), something something wukong makes a challenge for the suitors and they try to pull some stupid shit because they cant do the challenge and then macaque gets to go all odysses on their asses and wukong is falling in love all over again from the sidelines, something something forgiving eachother of past mistakes and they live happily ever after,

basically a lot of angst, and comfort and found family bonding with wukong and crew, shadowpeach reconciliation, cause as much as i love the shadowpeach aspect of this, i love the crew/mk trying to help and comfort and getting mad on his behalf just as much, also yes both mk and the other monkeys are technically in the place of telemachus in this

[eclectic-sassycoweyes]

Checking myself for racist microaggressions in fandom

Some thoughts I had about how to check myself for micro aggressions in fandom turned into a checklist of sorts. With the encouragement of Andie @paperstorm it resulted in this post that then Neha @theghostofashton was so kind to offer a read-through of before I posted it to help fill in potential blanks and rephrase where needed!

So, something I noticed about my initial reaction to seeing more talk about microaggressive takes and behaviors resurging with the new season airing, was that there was this tiny part of me that went: ‘oh no what if I’ve done something wrong.’ I found this interesting because I think that that’s a pretty human reaction, and one that we all need to unlearn, even if it is rooted in the intention of being a Good and non-racist person.

Because I think that this is part of what can lead us to distance ourselves from the racism that exists in fandom, and to adopt the belief that ‘It can’t be me contributing to this problematic behavior because I’m not racist’, serving as a defense against the risk of being perceived as, or perceiving oneself as, a bad or racist person.

So when that reaction hits, we need to practice channeling those intentions into asking instead ‘what can I do from here on out to help my fellow fandom members who are PoC be able to enjoy fandom without having to encounter racism and microaggressions?’

That means not asking ‘what if’ but instead acknowledging that we are all at risk of contributing to microaggressive behaviors because of both societal and in-fandom mechanisms, that can cause implicit bias to be strengthened and affirmed in the fandom through us adopting each other’s takes, perceptions, interpretations and headcanons. So if I want to avoid being a part of the problem, that means checking myself too. So:

Point 0) I should assume that I have made mistakes in the past and that I will make them again in the future, as that puts me in a better position to be a good/not racist person than assuming the opposite I.e. If I perceive myself as in any way immune to being part of the problem of racism in fandom, then that in itself puts me more at risk of becoming part of the problem.

1-5: Checking my perceptions, takes and beliefs:

Is it important to me to be someone who is not racist, to not exude racist behaviors and to not contribute to racism in fandom? (the point here is of course, as we shall see, that checking this point isn't in itself enough, but it puts me in a better position to check the rest of the list. Being willing to continually learn and grow in this area is what will take me from non-racism to anti-racism).

Is my empathy and focus equally distributed between white and non-white characters? If my empathy and focus is unequally distributed between characters, I need to check with myself whether that could be symptomatic of racist bias. Example: do I notice TK being sad more than I notice Carlos appearing stressed and anguished in 5x01? Do I pay attention to Carlos being absent more than I do to him making an effort to be present? Is it easier for me to emphasize with TK feeling alone and worried than Carlos feeling alone and grieving?

Am I allowing non-white characters the same ‘negative’ emotions as I allow the white characters, also when those emotions lead to what I perceive as bad decisions or transgressions? 

Example: Am I allowing the characters of color to be petty, angry, aggressive, sad, proud, annoyed, worried, insecure, vengeful, grieving and acting with basis in those emotions without it negatively affecting my perception of them as people as much as I am the white characters? I.e. is Carlos walking out the door in 4x04 bc of worry and frustration, worse in my mind than TK walking out on Carlos in 2x04 bc of hurt and anger? Do I emphasize with Carlos for being worried and mad at TK for breaking their agreement to give Iris time, or TK for feeling hurt and ‘wrongly accused’ of having contributed to Iris going missing? Do I validate Carlos as much for acting on for not being ready to introduce his boyfriend or TK for being hurt by being introduced as a ‘friend from work’?

Am I making up valid excuses for the characters of color the same way I am for the white characters? There is so much we don’t see in canon. Parts of storylines, motivations and reasons for why the characters act the way they do, resolutions to conflict or lack thereof that we have to make up ourselves. Example: When TK or Carlos hasn’t explicitly apologized for causing the other hurt in canon, do I excuse that by either assigning them valid reasons for their actions thus deciding that they don’t need to apologize or by headcanoning that the apology does happen, just outside of canon where we don’t see it? Am I able to do this for both of them equally or for TK only? When Carlos struggles with Cooper, and TK not opening up to him in 3x13, do I consider him jealous or do I see him as having valid human emotions such as insecurity and a wish to be there for his partner? When Carlos works late do I assign him reasons of selfishness, vengefulness or indifference towards TK, or do I emphasize with why he’d feel the need to seek justice to a point where that’s difficult to balance along with his marriage i.e assign him reasons such as grief, feeling like no-one else is looking for the killer, and subconsciously seeking closure for his complicated relationship with his father?

Checking my writing and posting:

Focus and empathy/POV: Is there an uneven distribution between white and non-white characters in terms of who and which storylines I write/post about, whose feelings and motivations I focus on in my writing, who I make an in depth analysis-post about? - If there is an uneven distribution between white characters and characters of color, have I taken the time to really consider why? (see also point 2).

Does my writing risk feeding into stereotypes? 

Example: Do I always write Carlos as strong, hypermasculine and dominant and holding the role of support/caretaker for TK? Am I painting Carlos’ parents and his relationship with them as bad, homophobic and neglectful in an un-nuanced way whereas TK’s relationship with his parents are being written as healthy and unproblematic? In my writing, is Carlos seeking out his father’s killer on his own written as problematic whereas Owen taking matters of justice into his own hands, shooting/punching someone is forgotten is validated/heroic?

When writing characters of color, am I being extra mindful of how I write them? This doesn’t mean writing them as I would any white character and thinking box checked. Being mindful sometimes means writing characters of color differently to account for experiences related to them being a person of color and to consciously avoid speaking into or affirming harmful narratives. I should also be considering doing extra research and/or maybe seeking out a sensitivity reader.

Making myself aware of harmful narratives going around in the wider fandom in order to make sure that I don’t risk accidentally affirming them with my writing. Example: right after 5x01 aired a narrative started going around that the state of Tarlos’ relationship was worse than what canon made it out to be. A lot had read Rashad’s interviews, were excited for all the angst to come, and were not getting the happy, newlywed Tarlos we had been hoping for, so for some this speculation/interpretation either didn’t have racist motivation or didn’t have the intention of being micro aggressive. However, that narrative was in some places interconnected with the narrative that Carlos was to blame and of him being a neglectful husband even though canon had shown him as both putting in effort to spending quality time with TK, and being in pain and overworking himself trying to balance a very traumatic situation for which he was not to blame in the first place. All we knew at that point was that Carlos had come home late at least more than 1 time. Speculating that their relationship is in a worse state than canon shows, and writing extremely angsty spec out of love for angst isn’t necessarily or always problematic in itself. But this narrative going around in a way that is intermingled with unsolicited hate and blame directed at Carlos, means that a post that might not otherwise come across as microaggressive, becomes problematic as it risks affirming those narratives if not written very mindfully in terms of focus, empathy and implied blame, and containing the necessary disclaimers. 

Checking this point means listening closely when the PoC in the fandom are making us aware of racist microaggressions taking place/resurging, even if I feel like I for the most part ‘enjoy not seeing it’ on my dashboard. Me feeling like I'm not seeing it on my dashboard, doesn't mean it doesn't exist both in other places and on my dashboard but just in ways where I'm not clocking it as harmful.

Disclaimers - Using the examples from above, if I want to make that thorough analysis if TK’s facial expression the moment Carlos says he isn’t going to be home or I want to write the angstiest spec fic, I need to make sure to add the necessary disclaimers to make sure I don’t feed a problematic narrative that’s going around. Other people don’t know my intentions and can’t read my thoughts. So even if I don't intend to, if I’m not being conscious not to, my post risks hurting fandom members of color and affirming views that might be harmful. 

Examples of disclaimers could be: “I don’t believe that it’s going that bad overall or that Carlos is to blame/isn’t also going through it/missing TK those nights but I found TK’s expressions really interesting in this moment because..” or “It doesn’t seem like it’s every night he doesn’t come home and they seem so happy otherwise but there is just so much that could make TK worry about him and their marriage..” or “it’s so clear how much they love each other and how hard Carlos is trying to balance his marriage and grief/search for justice but the way in which it might remind TK of his parents/past addiction is so interesting..”

(It might also be relevant to check out point 2 and 5 on whether my focus and empathy is equally distributed). 

Calling it out or making sure to gently make OP aware, and moderating or showing my disagreement when I see racist/micro aggressive takes, also when those takes are posted by my friend who I believe didn’t have racist intentions with it. This isn’t saying that I should call out any and all posts that focus on TK or are super angsty. But if a post is speaking into or at risk of affirming harmful narratives, a simple “This is such an interesting take on how TK’s trauma could contribute to him worrying about their marriage! I think it’s really important rn to point out that Carlos isn’t to blame for this situation though. He’s in so much pain too”. Calling each other out/gently making OP aware or moderating/disagreeing with a take in the tags is also a way to stop a potentially harmful narrative from surging and being further affirmed and adopted in the fandom. 

Important end notes:

Checking point 0 puts me in a better position to check point 1-10.

Checking point 1 does not automatically make me check point 2-5, I still have to continuingly reflect and think critically about my own takes and perceptions.

Checking point 1-5 does not mean I automatically check 6-9. I still have to be making a conscious effort to check my writing and posting as I am otherwise at risk of affirming a microaggressive take going around in fandom, or in society. Actually, I risk accidentally doing so even when I am making an effort not to. 

Which is why I need to also check point 10.

We need to help carry the weight of making fandom a safe, comfortable and fun space for the people of color in it, so that that weight doesn’t rest solely on their shoulders. Because fandom should be a place that is equally as fun, safe and comfortable for PoC as it is for white fandom members, and right now it isn't. Assuming that I am not immune to being part of the problem to stave off anxiety or a negative self perception, but instead channeling those intentions into a purer sense of empathy for my fandom members of color and and deciding to do the constructive work of checking my perceptions, my takes and my writing, and helping to call out and moderate potentially or obviously microaggressive and racist takes when I see them, is a way to do that.

[pretend-theres-a-name-here]

Relic

Jayvik | 1295 words | kinda angsty in a loneliness and death way ??? | it’s just Mage Viktor’s inner thoughts

read on ao3 ———————————————

Hello, partner. Dearest friend, though we both wished more. I know that now, when it is too late. When I am on the edge of divine, when you are a relic of our mistakes.

My mistakes.

But here we are still, I suppose this was always how it might happen. I do not wish it upon you to bear this fate, this burden of our creation, though nice as it is to see an old face. 

I suppose that is why you kept yours, out of all my identity-less inhabitants. Of them all it would seem only you are not a shell of metal and smooth gold. 

***

It’s been a while since we talked.

Since I talked.

Is truly talking if I cannot hear your voice just once more? If I myself am not sure these are words that I am speaking? If they reach you?

I do not know if you can hear me. If the fraction of movement in your eyes means anything, I’d hope you can.

I’ve been…busy. I do not think I can reverse such consequences as these on my own. In all the time I’ve been away I could not find a single soul left untouched by the arcane. 

Anyone but you.

Maybe it is—no. An outrageous thought, to think this thing wholly beyond my control ever would consider my own biases in its existence. 

***

Often I fear you grow weary of these ramblings, the woes of a man at the end of the world, no choice but to stay. No choice to make at all in this state I’ve trapped you in. 

Choices are becoming increasingly scarce when there are no actions to be taken. When you’re left wandering the end of the earth, choice whittled down to which dirt path will take me to you. 

I remembered your story of the man who saved your mother. In the blizzard, as a kid. The man who appeared out of nowhere and performed impossible acts of the arcane.

I suppose I should’ve made the connection sooner. I do not know what to do with this new knowledge, as things are now I have choices.

I could do it again. Go back to that point in time and set our paths for convergence as they would happen. Set in motion this terrible play of events just to meet you again.

Or…

Or I could stay here. I could let events fall into place as they were meant to, without intervention….and all it would entail. I admit that I have not entirely ruled it out.

Maybe it is selfish of me to enable the events I know are for the worse if it means we will relive our dance once more. 

Maybe it will be selfish of me to allow the cruel fate of death to befall Xiemena. To befall you in turn, all to justify the ends.

Choices, as it would happen, befall us all.

It is times like these I find myself eye to eye with a statue of a man I once knew, watching them shift and slide not enough to be wholly awake, and I wait for him to tell me to choose one option or another.

Tell me what would be best, oh accomplice of mine, to ruin the world for a mere eight years of your presence or choose an uncertain humanity, an uncertain humanity in the sense that I can not know what will happen. Tell me to choose you. You, you and your mother, over a world I don’t even know if I can save, tell me to choose you.

Why, why, why now do your eyes not move? Are you here no longer? Is it an answer I cannot hear?

No matter. I know what you would tell me to choose.

You were always the more selfless of the two of us.

***

…

I am sorry.

***

I did not plan to be back. 

I did not wish to burden you with the outcome of my choice, to disrupt what peace you may have found any further. 

But I have been watching. Watching the life I should have savored play out in front of my very eyes. As time would have it, we found each other in the same state of desperation and built a company out of it. 

But you already knew that. 

No, I come to you with the warning of all the bad to come. Our time together in the past is almost over. I believe we are preparing for the meeting with the council.

I used to think it had all gone wrong that night, used to think that was the one moment that truly broke what we had. It was already breaking, wasn’t it? 

Since that night in the blizzard.

Since I…

I’ve never been one for hypotheticals, you know. Wasting time we do not have on things that will not happen. With nothing but time on my hands I cannot stop the hypotheticals from making their way through.

What if I’d sat out on the meeting like so many before, what if we’d never gone at all? What if it was you instead of me and what if I could not be brought back?

I don’t believe I understand how time works here, even with all my research and connections to the arcane. Are we somehow outside of the universe we grew up in? Can I go back to the past, before we were born, now or does this timeline of our lives just play on a continuous loop? 

I believe, if the corpses are proof of anything, that this is just another failed universe.

***

The day approaches, the one in which you will travel here and find me atop this cliff.

I know what must be done. To right the wrong, to turn back the clock so to speak. You must not fail.

Though a past, naive me will fight it, this is what is meant to be done.

He must not fail.

***

He’s here. 

You are.

I felt it the second the arcane spit him out and I felt it when he fell. I do not know how he will proceed, if he knows at all the severity of the situation. 

I’m so tired. 

I think it would be best to rest here until he arrives demanding answers.

You are not even breathing.

No rise and fall of your shoulders against my neck. 

***

It is done. 

He’s going to kill me, I am sure of it.

You…you moved. Your arms did at least.

Somehow this minute sign of life is not as comforting as I once thought it could be. You moved because you must, to set things right. If that is all you can do in this form then I have truly trapped you. 

That was not my intention, to keep you here alone. I hope—I hope whatever might be left of you can understand that, if not forgive me.

I do not think I deserve to be forgiven.

I do not know if you still exist to forgive me.

I am so tired.

I think he’s done it. You’ve done it.

I might just rest here, once more, against an unmoving shoulder.

I never wanted to die when I knew it was coming so quickly. I suppose people in my position make peace with the facts and I did try, but I never wanted to die. 

I think now, now that I’ve sacrificed all that makes anything worth living for my prolonged life, I think it would be nice to meet the fate I was meant to.

But I know I cannot. After all, that was the goal, was it not? 

I think I will rest here, until it is time to do it all again.

———————————————

fun fact: this idea came to me at 3 am and I had 2 lines of dialogue

[therainscene]

It’s funny that Bylers are so often accused of being delusional, because I was at my most delusional when I was anti-Byler.

I spent most of S4 refusing to acknowledge that Will had romantic feelings for Mike, despite knowing damn well what all that love triangle imagery and sad gay pining was implying. I convinced myself it was just bros before hoes drama; that perhaps Will wanted to come out to his best friend but felt nervous after six months of radio silence following “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”

The van scene forced me to accept that he really was in love, and it pissed me off because what was even the point of making him fall for a straight boy?

Mike’s bizarre “no homo” behaviour was clearly a symptom of growing up in a conservative 80s household, and witnessing Will’s sacrificial act of love in the van was the shitty lesson he needed to get over his homophobia.

I saw a typical straight male protagonist in an 80s coming-of-age film getting to coast his way to self-actualization on the back of queer suffering; a cruel and homophobic trope I thought we’d moved past by the year 2022.

But then the NINA reunion scene rolled around--

--and I immediately picked up on the heavy parallels between Mike and Will in how they greeted El. The realization hit me like a tonne of bricks: Mike feels the same way about her as Will does.

I thought, “wait, does this mean I was wrong about...? Oh my god. No way.

No fucking way.

Will was in love with El this whole time?? What the fuck, he’s been gay since S1 and she’s his sister this is BULLSHIT I will personally strangle the Duffers--”

Heteronormativity is a hell of a drug, kids.

Let this be a lesson to those of you who think media illiteracy is to blame for Byler denial -- how well someone understands the mechanics of storytelling is irrelevant if they insist on treating Mike’s supposed heterosexuality as an axiom instead of an evidence-based conclusion. The issue lies with bias, not literacy.

I was stubbornly anti-Byler because I knew I’d immediately fall in love with this ship if I allowed myself to have hope it could be canon, and the general state of queer rep in mainstream media meant I was all but guaranteed to get hurt if I was so stupid as to have hope. But in my desperation to cling to the “safe” heteronormative outcome, I only ended up hurting myself with my own silly assumptions.

We’ve seen both canonically gay characters in the show make exactly this mistake, needlessly hurting themselves with their silly but self-defensive assumptions about their love interests.

Stranger Things absolutely nails its depiction of the subtler ways internalized homophobia can manifest -- Will may feel like a mistake and be prone to beating himself up, but he isn’t some pitiful self-loathing queer who wishes he was straight, either. He’s just so crushed by heteronormativity that he accepts it as an inescapable fact of life and lets it guide his beliefs and actions.

Don’t get me wrong: Will, like Robin, is very sensible for being cautious in such a horrifically bigoted environment -- trying to openly defy that level of homophobia by yourself, especially when you’re young, is a bad idea.

But unlike Robin, he clearly struggles to accept that he has the right to chase his same-sex love interest. He's no longer simply exercising caution, but conforming to homophobic standards -- much in the same way I thought I was sensibly refusing to be queerbaited, when really I was just agreeing with the heteronormative status quo.

I realize now that this is the real reason Will was written into a homophobic 80s trope: not to teach Mike an outdated lesson in acceptance, but to maneuver Will into position for the lesson he’s going to learn in S5 about resisting conformity.

Will needs to learn that castrating himself to make straight people comfortable is a bad idea too. Not only is that a miserable way to live his life, but what sort of world is he leaving for the next generation of queer kids if he never questions these homophobic standards?

It’s just the cycle of abuse scaled up to the societal level.

This is what gives me confidence in Byler endgame. Queerness isn’t just an incidental element of Will’s personal arc, but suffuses the show to its very core -- it’s in its themes, its allegory, its characters.

So Will getting the boy isn’t just nice fan-service for Byler shippers, but a necessary ending if the show’s most important lesson is to land:

That it’s rewarding to make the difficult choice of standing up to bigotry in the face of forced conformity. Of choosing love.

Could it be the case that I was right the first time, and Stranger Things is going to turn out to be yet another heteronormative mainstream show that doesn’t commit to its own themes? Sure, maybe. But that wouldn’t invalidate the valuable lessons this show has already -- and apparently accidentally lol -- taught me.

Anyone who calls us deluded for hoping a mainstream show is going to have a gay pairing as its main couple just doesn’t realize -- or doesn’t care -- that they’re contributing to the very problem they’re describing.

[muiitoloko]

Become a Better Man

Summary: Grieving father Eli struggles with his past mistakes as he adopts a puppy, hoping to find redemption and heal his broken heart.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson & Daughter! Reader

Warnings: Angst, negligent father.

Author's Notes: I finally managed to crank out something for this fanfic, and surprise, surprise, it turned out totally sad—again! But hey, a part of me is happy I could write it. Hope you like it too! Heads up, it's pretty detailed and sad. Oh, and fun fact: Otto is also my dog's name! 🐶😅

First, Second, Third and Fourth part here.

Also read on Ao3

Eli paced the office, his steps quick and agitated. "Why would Lionel Shabandar buy my daughter's paintings and not tell me about the connection he had with her before?" he demanded, his baritone voice echoing off the walls.

The therapist, Dr. Reynolds, sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Eli, there's nothing strange about this," he began, his tone calm and measured. "You have to start realizing that maybe you're just trying to suppress your sadness over your daughter's death by directing your attention for meaningless things, creating a theory in your head."

Eli stopped pacing, his shoulders slumping as he absorbed the doctor's words. He turned and sat down heavily on the couch, his head in his hands. "Maybe you're right," he admitted reluctantly, his voice filled with exhaustion. "Maybe I'm just trying to find something to distract myself from the grief."

Dr. Reynolds nodded, his expression sympathetic. "It's natural to look for answers and create narratives to make sense of loss, Eli. But it's also important to confront the grief head-on, to allow yourself to feel it and process it."

Eli let out a long breath, his body sagging with the weight of his emotions. "What do you want me to do?" he asked wearily, his eyes meeting the therapist's.

"I have another task for you this week," Dr. Reynolds said, his tone encouraging.

Eli rolled his eyes, his impatience flaring. "More stupid tasks to do," he muttered under his breath, his irritation palpable.

Dr. Reynolds noticed Eli's reaction and gave him a thoughtful look. "Have you ever considered adopting a dog?" he asked, his voice gentle. "Maybe having a puppy to take care of will help you overcome your grief and leave you less alone."

Eli frowned, taken aback by the suggestion. "A dog?" he repeated, his tone skeptical.

"Yes, a dog," Dr. Reynolds confirmed with a small smile. "Pets can provide companionship and comfort, and they can give you a sense of purpose. It might be just what you need to help you through this difficult time."

Eli sat back, his mind racing as he considered the idea. He had never been much of an animal person, his life always too busy and chaotic to accommodate a pet. But now, with his daughter's death leaving a gaping hole in his life, the thought of having a loyal companion by his side was strangely appealing.

"Maybe," Eli said slowly, his skepticism giving way to curiosity. "I'll think about it."

Dr. Reynolds nodded, his expression approving. "Take your time, Eli. There's no rush. But I truly believe it could help you find some peace."

Eli left the therapist's office with a heavy heart, but also with a flicker of hope. The idea of adopting a dog seemed absurd at first, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. A puppy could be a distraction, a way to fill the emptiness that had consumed him since his daughter's death.

That evening, Eli found himself browsing online for local animal shelters, his mind filled with images of playful puppies and wagging tails. It was a small step, but it was a step towards healing, towards finding a way to live with the pain of his loss.

Eli scoffed and turned away from the computer at his desk, his bitterness intensifying as he stood up to get something to drink. He didn’t need a dog, he told himself, his irritation growing with each step. But the voice in his head, a voice that had become more pronounced in the last few days—a voice that sounded vaguely like his daughter's—protested.

"Maybe it would be good to have a dog," the voice argued softly, urging him to consider the companionship and responsibility it would bring.

"No," Eli muttered under his breath, his grip tightening around the glass in his hand. "No dogs. They make a mess of everything."

The voice persisted, coaxing him gently. "But it would give you something to feed and take care of, something to focus on besides your grief."

Eli shook his head vehemently, his frustration boiling over. "No! They piss and shit everywhere. And I don't even want to think about bathing a dog. I'm not going to have a dog."

The voice in his head was relentless, its tone filled with gentle insistence. "Yes, you will. It will be good for you."

"No, I won't!" Eli snapped, his anger directed at the invisible presence. "I won't!"

"Yes, you will," the voice replied calmly.

"No, I won't!"

"Yes, you will."

The argument continued in his mind, an endless loop of defiance and persuasion. Finally, exhausted and exasperated, Eli threw his hands up in defeat. "Fine!" he shouted into the empty room. "I'll just look. But I'm not promising anything."

The next day, after work at the university, Eli found himself walking into an animal shelter, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. He walked past the cages of dogs that barked at his presence, ignoring their eager faces and wagging tails. One of the shelter staff approached him, a friendly smile on her face as she began to speak about the dogs.

Eli interrupted her, his tone brusque. "I just want a puppy."

The employee nodded, undeterred by his abruptness. "Of course, sir. We have a few puppies available. Let me show you."

She guided him towards a cage, pointing to a male French bulldog puppy, about four months old. The puppy looked up at Eli with large, expressive eyes, its small body trembling slightly.

"This little guy has been returned twice," the employee explained, her voice tinged with sadness.

Eli's curiosity was piqued, despite himself. "Why?" he asked, his tone more demanding than curious.

The employee sighed. "It's because of his health problems. He has a few issues that require regular attention and care."

Eli’s initial reaction was one of indifference. "Good," he thought to himself, "health problems mean I'll get rid of it faster." But the voice in his head protested, telling him not to think that way.

Eli ignored the voice, focusing instead on the practicalities. "I'll take him," he stated flatly, his decision made.

The employee looked surprised but nodded quickly, not wanting to lose the opportunity to find the puppy a home. "Alright, let's get the paperwork started," she said, leading Eli to the front desk.

As they walked, Eli glanced back at the puppy, who was now watching him with a curious, hopeful expression. Despite his best efforts to remain aloof, a small part of him couldn't help but feel a pang of something—maybe not quite affection, but something close to it.

The voice in his head was quiet for now, and Eli couldn't help but wonder if he had made the right choice. Only time would tell, but for now, he had taken a small step towards something new, something that might just help him find a bit of solace in the wake of his grief.

Later at his home, Eli laid two newspapers on the floor, pointing to the dog, Otto, as the animal shelter had informed him, and then to the newspapers, stating firmly, "This is where you piss and shit, got it?" He gave a stern lecture to Otto, his voice tinged with impatience. "Don't try to piss or shit anywhere else, or you'll be sleeping in the backyard."

The voice in his head urged him to be more gentle, but Eli ignored it, watching Otto sniff everything around. He left the puppy to it and went to pour himself a drink, needing something to calm his nerves. The voice persisted, suggesting that Eli should buy a dog bed and maybe some toys for Otto, but Eli dismissed the idea as too expensive. "The dog already has food and water," he muttered to himself, "and that’s enough. It’s just a dog after all."

The voice in his head seemed to sigh, saying, "You're so stubborn, Daddy."

Eli ignored the comment, going to sit on the sofa and watching Otto explore the new environment. The puppy sniffed around the furniture, occasionally glancing back at Eli with curious eyes. Eli took a sip of his drink, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled over him since bringing Otto home.

"Why did I even get a dog?" he thought, frustration bubbling up. "What good will it do?"

But as he watched Otto, a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. The puppy's innocent curiosity and playful energy were strangely endearing, despite his initial reluctance.

Otto approached Eli, his tiny paws padding softly on the floor. He looked up at Eli with those big, expressive eyes, and Eli felt a pang of something he couldn't quite name. It was a fleeting moment of connection, a small spark of warmth in the cold, empty space that grief had carved out in his heart.

The voice in his head was gentler now, saying, "Give him a chance, Dad. He might just help you heal."

Eli sighed, setting his drink down and reaching out to pat Otto's head. The puppy's fur was soft and warm under his hand, and for a moment, Eli felt a flicker of peace. "Maybe," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe."

He watched as Otto continued to explore, the puppy's boundless energy a stark contrast to Eli's own weariness. Despite himself, Eli couldn't help but feel a small, tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, this little dog might bring some light back into his life.

As the evening wore on, Eli found himself paying more attention to Otto, watching the puppy's every move with a mixture of curiosity and caution. Otto, seemingly unfazed by his new surroundings, continued to explore with unabashed enthusiasm, occasionally stopping to sniff at a corner or chew on a stray shoe.

Eli couldn't help but chuckle softly at the sight, the sound surprising even himself. "Alright, Otto," he said, his voice softening. "Let's see if you can manage to follow some basic rules."

He got up from the sofa and went to the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers until he found an old, worn-out tennis ball. "Here," he said, tossing the ball to Otto. "Maybe this will keep you entertained."

Otto pounced on the ball with glee, his tiny tail wagging furiously as he chased it around the room. Eli watched with a mixture of amusement and relief, grateful for the brief respite from his own troubled thoughts.

As the night drew to a close, Eli found himself feeling a bit more at ease. He set up a small corner for Otto in the living room, using an old blanket as a makeshift bed. "It's not much," he muttered, almost apologetically, "but it'll do for now."

Otto seemed content, curling up on the blanket with a tired but happy sigh. Eli stood there for a moment, watching the puppy settle down before finally retreating to his own bedroom. The voice in his head was quiet now, a gentle presence that seemed to offer a small measure of comfort.

Just as he began to drift off, he heard a soft whining and scratching at the bedroom door. Eli sighed irritably, pulling the pillow over his head in a vain attempt to drown out the noise. "Otto, go away!" he muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow.

As Eli lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't help but think of his daughter and the unresolved pain that still lingered. He tossed and turned in his bed, trying to shut out the thoughts that raced through his mind. Lionel Shabandar, the mysterious benefactor who had bought his daughter's paintings and paid for her art school, loomed large in his thoughts. What was Shabandar's connection to his daughter? Why hadn't he said anything? Eli tried to recall the therapist's advice, but the questions swirled relentlessly.

But Otto persisted, his whining growing louder and more insistent. Eli cursed under his breath, throwing the pillow aside as he got up and stomped to the door. "What do you want, you little pest?" he grumbled, opening the door with a sharp tug.

Otto bounded past him, ignoring Eli's question as he headed straight for the bed. The puppy leaned against the side of the bed, his tiny paws scrabbling at the sheets as he looked up at Eli with pleading eyes.

"No, no, no, no!" Eli protested, waving his hands in a futile attempt to shoo Otto away. "You can't sleep in here. This is my bed!"

Otto whimpered, his eyes wide and sad as he continued to beg for Eli's attention. The sight of those soulful eyes brought back a flood of memories. Eli remembered his daughter, her big, hopeful eyes looking up at him, asking him to play, to spend time with her, to show her love. He had been harsh and distant then, pushing her away, too wrapped up in his own world to see the hurt he caused.

Would he reject her again?

With a heavy sigh, Eli's resolve crumbled. He reached down and scooped Otto up, the puppy's warm body snuggling into his chest. "Alright, alright," he muttered, carrying Otto to the bed. "But don't get used to it. This is the first and last time you sleep in my bed."

Otto wagged his tail happily, settling down on the bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Eli lay back down, keeping a stern face as he watched the puppy snuggle into the blankets. Despite his gruff exterior, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he said softly, reaching out to pat Otto's head. "But maybe... maybe this isn't so bad."

Otto licked Eli's hand, his tail thumping against the bed. The simple act of affection warmed Eli's heart in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. As he closed his eyes, the weight of his grief felt a little lighter, the presence of the tiny dog offering a small measure of comfort.

"Goodnight, Otto," Eli whispered, his voice soft and uncharacteristically gentle. "Don't get too comfortable."

Otto's soft snores were the only response, a soothing sound that lulled Eli into a restless but ultimately peaceful sleep. For the first time in what felt like forever, Eli allowed himself to hope that things might get better, one small step at a time.

Later that same night, Otto woke up to the sound of soft sobs coming from his new owner. The room was dimly lit by the streetlights outside, casting long shadows on the walls. Otto blinked sleepily, his small body stirring as he lifted his head to see Eli lying on his back, his chest rising and falling with the weight of his silent cries.

Otto, sensing the sadness that filled the room, got up and padded over to Eli, his little paws barely making a sound on the sheets. He gently licked Eli's hand, his warm tongue a comforting presence. But Eli pushed him away, his voice rough with grief. "Leave me alone, Otto," he muttered, his tone harsh.

But Otto persisted, undeterred by Eli's rejection. He laid his head on Eli's chest, his eyes filled with concern. Eli pressed his arm against his eyes, trying to block out the memories that assaulted him. Memories of you, memories of the guilt that gnawed at him relentlessly.

He remembered the time he had come home from a long day at the university to find his lesson plans scattered across the dining table, each page adorned with your intricate, colorful drawings. His initial shock quickly gave way to anger, the rage bubbling up inside him as he realized how much time and effort he had spent on those plans.

"What the hell is this?" he had yelled, his voice echoing through the house. You flinched at his tone, your small body curling up in fear. "I gave you a whole painting kit to keep you away from my papers!"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to explain. "I just wanted you to have some pretty drawings on those papers you always carry with you," you said, your voice trembling with fear and sorrow. "So you can remember me."

Eli just got angrier. "I don't want your fucking drawings! I don't want to fucking remember you! You already irritate me enough!" he shouted, his voice filled with venom.

You recoiled at his harsh words, tears streaming down your face. Sarah tried to butt in, her voice trembling with desperation. "Eli, don't say that! She's just a child!"

But Eli was relentless, his anger consuming him. "Be quiet, Sarah!" he yelled, his face contorted with rage. "You won't put your hand over her head again! She has to fucking learn limits!"

You ran to your daddy, trying to grab his legs, your tiny hands clinging to his trousers as you sobbed. "I'm sorry, Daddy! I didn't mean to ruin your papers!"

Eli pushed you away with a force that made you stumble and fall. "No, fuck! That's why I never wanted girls! You're an irritating fucking disappointment!"

Sarah shouted, her voice filled with a mix of anger and heartbreak. "Eli, stop it! Look at what you're doing to her!"

But the damage was done. Eli's face twisted with fury as he glared at you. "I never wanted you!" he asserted with all his might, his words hitting you like a physical blow. "You're grounded for messing with my papers again!"

You lay on the floor, your heart shattered by his cruel words. The world seemed to close in around you, the weight of his rejection pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. You looked up at Sarah, your eyes pleading for comfort, but even her embrace couldn't erase the sting of Eli's words.

Eli stormed out of the room, leaving you and Sarah behind. The house felt cold and empty, the echoes of his anger lingering in the air. Sarah held you tightly, her own tears mingling with yours as she tried to soothe you.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "He didn't mean it. He's just... he's just angry."

But you knew that wasn't true. You felt the weight of Eli's rejection deep in your soul, a wound that would never fully heal. You clung to Sarah, seeking solace in her warmth, but the pain remained, a constant reminder of your father's harsh words.

You clung to your mother, your small body trembling as you buried your face in her shoulder. "I love Daddy so much," you sobbed, your voice muffled against her as tears streamed down your cheeks. "Why does Daddy hate me? Why is he so bad?"

Sarah held you tightly, her own tears mixing with yours as she tried to find the right words to comfort you. "Sweetheart, it's not your fault," she whispered, her voice breaking with sorrow. "Daddy's just... he's not well. He doesn't mean the things he says. You are so loved, my darling."

But your heart ached with confusion and pain. "I just want him to love me," you cried, your voice filled with desperation. "Why can't he love me like I love him?"

Outside, on the porch, Eli paced back and forth, the cool night air doing little to calm his seething anger. He could hear your heart-wrenching questions through the open window, each one like a dagger to his chest. But instead of feeling remorse, his frustration only grew. He fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette, his hands shaking as he lit it and took a deep drag, trying to steady his nerves.

"Damn it," he muttered to himself, his voice rough with anger. "Why can't she just leave me alone? Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?"

The sound of your cries continued to filter through the window, but Eli couldn't bring himself to care. He took another drag from his cigarette, the smoke swirling around him as he tried to drown out your pain. "I'm better off out here," he thought bitterly. "Better off away from all of this."

But now, years later, the memory of that night haunted him. Lying in bed with Otto curled up beside him, Eli felt the weight of his past mistakes pressing down on him like a leaden shroud. He reached out to the small dog, his hand trembling as he stroked Otto's soft fur.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so, so sorry."

Otto snuggled closer to his chest, offering a small measure of comfort with his warm presence. Eli's tears fell freely now, each one a testament to the deep well of grief and regret that had consumed him since your death. "I promise I'll be better," he vowed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I promise I'll change."

But the stark reality of his situation hit him like a punch to the gut. He didn't have you anymore. He didn't have anyone else. All he had was Otto, the small dog who had somehow become his lifeline in the midst of his despair.

Eli hugged Otto tightly, his heart breaking with the weight of his loss. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," he murmured, his voice raw with pain. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the father you deserved."

Otto nuzzled closer, his soft breaths a soothing balm to Eli's tormented soul. "I'll do better, I swear," Eli whispered, his tears soaking into Otto's fur. "I'll be the person you would have wanted me to be."

But deep down, Eli knew that no amount of promises or apologies could change the past. The memory of your broken heart, the sound of your desperate cries, would haunt him forever. All he could do now was hold on to Otto and hope that, somehow, he could find a way to make amends for the mistakes that had shattered his family and his heart.