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doublel27 · 1 year

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Fic Origin Story

Many thanks to @reyesstrand and @marwani-strickland for the tag. Did I think villain origin story when I read it? Yes. Is my life as a fic writer villanous? IDK.

What was your first fandom (reading or writing)?

My first fandom was General Hospital. I began reading and writing fic in that fandom circa 1999-2001 So, you know, before some of y'all were born. It's fine. I'm fine. You're fine.

It was back in the days that you had to join like an EzBoard to post and share fic. yes I'm old. And, and, like a lot of EzBoards were specific to your pairing of choice (I was a member of several) and you had to actual pass a quiz to get inside the ezboard to prove you were a fan of said pairing because antis would infiltrate and sow chaos. Flame wars were a thing and such. I learned so much in those days. I still had dial-up and my chapters were super short. I saved my fic to floppy disks, so...you know...it was a time.

2. What was the first story you ever wrote (even if it was never posted) and what made you write it?

The FIRST story I ever wrote, that I remember, as a fanfic was probably a Little Women fix it fic where Laurie and Jo got married instead of Laurie and Amy and Jo and Professor Behr at like, ten years old. I wrote it one of those hardcover blank books you could buy. I have since reconsidered my position after learning more about Louisa May Alcott and WHY she made the choices she made.

The first story I ever published as a fandom fic was a Jason/Robin sweeping get back together story in the General Hospital fandom (have they been together since 1998 - no, do I think it's one of the biggest mistakes the show has ever made - maybe). Robin was still in Paris and I think she maybe had a secret baby. There were kidnappings, shootings, and many other things that fit a daytime soap fic written by a high schooler in the margins of her notebooks.

I think it's still on floppy disks in my parent's house.

3. What's a pice of advice you would give to your younger fic writing self?

Care less about what other people are doing. Care more about how you treat others. Constructive critism is a gift, take it as it's meant and have your friends read your work and tell you that you NEED A PERIOD or DO YOU KNOW WHAT COMMAS ARE or YOU'VE USED THIS WORD THREE TIMES THIS PAGE or MORE FEELINGS HERE PLEASE or I DON'T UNDERSTAND THIS. They make your writing better.

4. What is an early fandom interaction that has stuck with you (be it a nice comment, a friend you made, a fic that got a lot of feedback)

Oh man, there's so many. Some are wonderful, like the reactions to every chapter I posted of those early fics.

Some are things I learned the hard way, like being a teenager who made friends with another teenager and some women in their 20s and 30s and one of them was very much a bully who had us turn on one of the friends we had by telling lies and got us to harrass her. I learned a lot about how to trust people online and how to spot people who might tell lies to play people on the interent like puppets for their own power. It makes it far easier to spot now that I'm old. Also, I remember how very compassionate the woman we harrassed, my friend Dani, was, and she was a little bit younger than I am now. and How she really accepted our apology, told us how much we hurt her, and allowed the two children she'd befriended to do better when they figured out how they'd been played. I hope to have half her grace as a fandom old these days.

5. What is a sentence or two from one of your older fics and a sentence or two from a newer one (if you want)?

For y'all, let's do 3. The first from around 20 years ago, then we'll grab something from 10 years ago, and something from now? Sound good? You do know that by now you're getting more than a sentence or two from me. From Choices - a fanfiction following X2/X3 movie verse -posted on Fanfiction.net on June 1, 2003.

Jubliee stared at the young man across from her. There was something so familiar about this one, something she couldn't put her finger on just yet. Then it hit her, "St. John?" The spark in his eyes, the fire that matched his talent was unmistakable. No wonder the armored car was burning at such a rapid pace.

From Ruined - A Legend of Korra fanfic centered on the breakup of Tenzin and Lin Beifong posted on AO3 on January 5, 2014

He’d asked her to move with him to Air Temple Island and she’d laughed. Thinking on it now, the sound of it was harsh and cruel to her own ears.

“Why,” she’d laughed, “when you have all of your Air groupies?”

He’d sighed and steepled his fingers in that serious thinking pose he had. “They’re not groupies, Lin,” he had reproved her. “They are people who have been keeping my father’s culture alive for the better part of a century and they are continuing to sustain it. What if—” A sadness had entered his eyes. “I could be the last one, Lin. There might never be another.”

“Tenzin—” She couldn’t have brought herself to lie and say that she would ensure that he wouldn’t be. Lin wouldn’t even suggest that Bumi could miraculously have an illegitimate child that was an airbender out somewhere. “Then come here. Live in the city. You already work here and we could find a good space for Oogi.”

“I want to marry you Lin,” he had said, quietly.

Lin had looked up from her paperwork and given him a pointed glance. “Does that marriage include children?”

“I am the last living airbender, Lin,” Tenzin reminded her. “I do want children one day.”

From let me be the one at day's end - a 911 Lone Star (more cow eyes series) fic posted on AO3 on June 30, 2022

Carlos snaps off the radio, unwilling to listen to the continued banter as they joke about this. There’s too many containers of flammable gas in the back of a bus to make light of a bullet ricocheting in there. He pulls out his phone before looking at his mother in the seat beside him. Her brown eyes are wide and worried and he can’t look at them for too long.

When he looks back down at his phone he realizes his hand is shaking. “I’m just—He’s on a shift and he probably can’t pick up—”

And from a personal favorite, You Can Have My Back - a Schitt's Creek Twylexis 911 AU posted on AO3 on October 14, 2022

Alexis looks over the turnouts, which happen to be an unfortunate combination of khaki and orange. The fabric is rough and heavy, which makes sense for protecting one's body from a fire, but there are plenty of fire-resistant clothes that aren’t these ancient heavy things. “Don’t they have, umm, like those cuter black and yellow numbers that are a little thinner?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, princess. Does this department look like it’s made of money?” Ronnie takes a moment to wink at her. “Besides, orange is the new pink.”

“Mmm, totally,” Alexis murmurs.

Ronnie narrows her eyes, and jerks her thumb at the gear. “You know how to put this on in time?”

Being underestimated is something Alexis is well used to. In fact, being underestimated has saved her life countless times where people thought she was too stupid or too thoughtless or too pretty to know her way around a gun or a fancy car or out of a pair of handcuffs. Normally it didn’t sting.

She pulls herself up to full height and sniffs. “I passed the volunteer qualifications exam, didn’t I?”

Tagging: @marjansmarwani @petalwritesx @blackandwhiteandrose @missgeevious @sunshinestrand @strandnreyes @lilythesilly @maxbegone @tailoredshirt @beautifulhigh

Feel free not to, friends, but I'm curious.

#xmen #legend of korra #911 lone star #schitt's creek #fan fiction #my long fandom life #doublel27 talks #doublel27 writes #the many lives of doublel27

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thisaintascenereviews · 4 months

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The Record Exchange: Episode 1

One of my favorite things to do, especially with friends, is talk about music. We all have them, right? Well, friends, or friends that love music. You’re either that friend, or you know someone that is that friend. I’m that friend, for sure. I love music, and have for the last couple decades, and throughout that time, my knowledge within music has grown considerably, but so has my curiosity about new music. I love discovering new music, regardless of what it is, and one of the best things is when you find another person who’s also a huge music fan, let alone someone that enjoys a lot of the same stuff you do. It’s even better when you have something to work off of, versus just agreeing or disagreeing. What good would conversation about music be if you didn’t have anything to talk about, or you just agreed with each other. There’s also something to be said about enjoying the same kind of music as someone, but also being able to debate and have a conversation, and not completely agree or fanboy about everything. Hell, it’s great when you can recommend music to someone that may or may not be out of their comfort zone, and they check it out. Whether they like it or not is a different story (and it’s okay if they don’t), but a lot of people don’t listen to or care about stuff that’s recommended to them. That’s where my buddy @jakeh2987 comes in, however; we’ve been friends for over a decade now, and in that time, we’ve introduced each other to a lot of music. Some of it we’ve liked, and some of it we haven’t, but that’s okay. In that time, we have talked about a lot of the music we’ve recommended to each other, and I had the idea recently to make that into a series. At least a periodic show, anyway, so welcome to The Record Exchange, in which we pick an album, regardless of genre or artist, and we have each other listen to them and then we talk about it.

For the inaugural episode, we’re going to talk about metalcore, well, sort of. Metalcore is a genre that I know very well, as I’ve been a fan for years, but the genre has been doing a lot of cool stuff lately (at least within the last few years). For every band that wants to stay the same, and wants to make the same generic albums, there are bands who are moving the genre forward, and today we wanted to talk about a couple of those. It all started because we were talking about the band Issues, and how they released a new song before their final shows, and we talked about how Issues was a band that was very ahead of their time, and in some degree, they helped to usher in the new wave of bands who bring new perspectives and ideas to the genre. In their case, they brought funk, R&B, and pop music to metalcore. Because of that, we talked about other bands that have been doing similar things, at least bringing new kinds of music into metalcore, as well as hard-rock, because some of these bands can qualify as both metalcore and hard-rock, depending on who you talk to. Rock music, as a whole, is in a state of flux, because it doesn’t know what it wants to do or what it wants to do, but there are a few bands moving the genre forward, and two of those bands we’ll be talking about today, as well as what they mean for the genre and what the future of the genre could be. Since Jake is the guest here, let’s start with the album that I recommended he listen to.

Bring Me The Horizon- Post-Human: Survival Horror

Ever since I first heard Linkin Park’s Hybrid Theory at some point in middle school, I’ve been a pretty big fan of the hard-rock/alternative metal scene. Bands such as Three Days Grace (at least, before Adam Gontier left the band), Breaking Benjamin, and Chevelle, to name a few examples, shaped what I like to call the first “phase” of my music tastes, and I still enjoy a lot of that music today. But, if I’m being honest, while a lot of them are still kicking around, it’s been a really long time since I listened to something from those bands and came away really blown away or impacted in a way beyond “Hey, that was pretty good!” As I was writing this, I decided to sit down and revisit some of the most recent releases from the bands of that era, and the main recurring theme I kept running into was that they sounded exactly the same way they did 20 years ago when this sound was in its prime. To put this into perspective, put Three Days Grace’s One-X from 2006, an album that I still love a lot, next to Saint Asonia (Adam Gontier’s current band) and their most recent album from 2019, and Gontier’s basically doing the same thing he’s been doing for his entire career. For a lot of artists, that’s totally okay! You can get away with sticking to what you do best, and even in Gontier’s case, I’m not expecting him to be an especially progressive artist in terms of sound, but I feel like this case is a perfect microcosm of the whole genre; it’s just gotten safe and predictable, and I haven’t truly fell in love with an album from that scene in going on 10 years now.

In comes Bring Me The Horizon, undoubtedly one of the biggest bands in the world right now, and arguably one of the most important. When Bradley recommended their most recent album/EP (it’s not entirely clear what it’s officially classified as, nor does it ultimately matter), Post-Human: Survival Horror, for our first “episode” of this new recurring series we’re trying out, I was really excited. BMTH was a band I was always fascinated by from afar, but ultimately kinda brushed off. However, I have been taking a little more notice of them recently as they’ve dropped singles for their upcoming second part of this Post-Human project, called Next Gen. Bring Me started out as a primarily deathcore band, but other the years, they’ve shifted into more of a metalcore band, and then starting with 2013’s Sempiternal, but really going all in on it with 2015’s That’s The Spirit, they really embraced a more accessible and catchy alt metal/hard-rock sound. This was an interesting evolution for them, because while it might seem predictable for a metalcore band to venture into more of a standard rock sound now, they were one of the first in the scene to do it and have any real success with it. After that came Amo, which is a bit more of a divisive album, but one that really solidified Bring Me as a band who were willing to throw genre conventions out the window and incorporate whatever other genres they wanted into their sound, while also still sounding like them. And that’s what Post-Human: Survival Horror does really well; it’s an album that both feels all over the place in terms of sounds and influences, but is still very rooted in the band’s hard-rock/alternative metal style they’ve been perfecting over the decade since Sempiternal released. And for me, coming up in the hard-rock scene but feeling rather disillusioned with it as of late, Bring Me The Horizon has been such a breath of fresh air. I love that this album can have these rather heavier moments followed by parts that wouldn’t feel out of place in a modern pop song, sometimes within the same song. The song “Ludens” I think is a perfect showcase of this album and what Bring Me is all about, it’s a blend of pop and hard-rock and even has a really cool breakdown, but it all works. And it’s just exciting me as a fan of the genre to see a band really experiment and do new things and not really care about sounding exactly like radio rock did in 2006. Not to mention, where else are you gonna get Babymetal and Yungblud on the same album as guest features?

I’m so happy Bradley recommended this album to me, especially as we’re on the heels of the next step in this journey for the band. All the singles they’ve been dropping over the last year have been really cool, so Next Gen has the potential to be even better.

If there is one band that’s really moving rock and metal forward, it’s Bring Me The Horizon. As Jake said, they’re a breath of fresh air, because of how they’re taking multiple sounds from multiple genres and putting them into rock and metalcore. A lot of bands in this vein today want to sound like they have for the past 20 years, and while nostalgia sells, progression is also important. I’ve been a fan of BMTH for years, even in their earliest incarnation as a deathcore band, but their change as a band has given me mixed reactions; I used to not be crazy about their change in sound, but I’ve really grown to love it, especially 2019’s Amo, where they took electronic and pop music and made it their own. Other bands have been popping up, too, and it’s very refreshing to see a lot of these bands coming out of the woodwork.

The Home Team - Slow Bloom

One such band is The Home Team, and their second album, Slow Bloom. This is the record that Jake recommended to me, and I’ve surprisingly heard of this band before. I listened to Slow Bloom a couple of years ago after hearing about them through seeing their videos on TikTok, and I got really excited about them, because they were a really unique band. This band takes pop-punk, djent, and R&B but makes it their own. Slow Bloom is an album with an ironic title, because this album isn’t slow with how much time it takes to bloom. Hell, these guys have one of the most fresh and unique sounds I’ve heard in awhile; they take the best parts of each of these genres and combine them together. The impressive vocals of R&B in the form of Brian Butcher, the catchy melodies of pop-punk, and the groovy guitar tones of djent / metalcore are all here, and they’re perfect ingredients. In fact, the first song I ever heard from them, “Watching All Your Friends Get Rich,” is a great example of this. Songs like “Right Through Me,” “Who Do You Know Here,” or “Sail” are great examples, too, but Brian Butcher is one of the best vocalists of the alternative scene right now. He’s been filling in for Issues on their farewell run of shows, and for good reason. Not too many vocalists can match that, or have the same talent that he does, but this band is going to be one to watch. This band isn’t only so talented because of their vocalist, but the rest of the band is talented, too, and it’s the musicianship that makes this band for me. I love the combination of the djenty guitars with the pop-punk melodies, because it gives me the best of both worlds — catchy hooks and heavy guitarwork. This is a cool band for people that want something a little heavier, but also don’t want screaming or breakdowns. These guys aren’t “heavy” in the sense that they’re brutal, or whatever, but they have that heavier tone, and it works for them. That also works for them, too, because what it means to be a metalcore band is being vastly rewritten by bands like Issues, Bad Omens, Beartooth, Bring Me The Horizon, and The Home Team who are utilizing more outside influence.

Talking about these albums made me think a lot about metalcore as a whole, and hard-rock, too, because rock music is in a weird state right now. You have people one side of the fence saying the genre is dead, and that there are no popular rock bands (at least ones worth caring about), and those are the most vocal people of the bunch, but on the other side of the fence, there are bands like BMTH and Issues that are redefining what rock can be. A lot of bands, especially ones that Jake mentioned, are fine with staying stagnant, and I guess there’s nothing wrong with it if that’s what you’re looking for, but there’s also nothing wrong with progression and moving forward. A lot of these bands mean something for the future of the genre, whether it’s for rock or metalcore. Both Bring Me The Horizon and The Home Team give me hope for the genre moving forward, because they have a lot to offer, and there are plenty of other bands out there that offer something new or interesting for the genre, so rock and metal are in a very exciting place at the moment.

That’ll do it for the first episode of The Record Exchange! We plan on doing this periodically, or at least whenever we have something to recommend each other, but I had this idea to start a conversation about two different albums, or at least in this case, two albums that are different yet oddly similar, especially for being in the same scene. Metalcore is a genre that I have a lot of love for, considering it’s one of the first genres I got into, and I like seeing the genre finally evolve, so I’m glad we were able to talk about a lot of albums and bands in that scene that are doing some cool things.

#music #rock #metalcore #metal #pop punk #djent #hyperpop #bring me the horizon #the home team #slow bloom #post human survival horror #Beartooth #issues #heavy metal #pop #pop-punk

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vthetease · 9 months

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One that was a beautiful poem, and two sorry for your loss

Thank you! I'll take a moment to talk about a topic I'm super passionate about which is suicide prevention and mental health awareness so this is warning it's gonna get really sad

This song always makes me think of his as he was such a gifted piano player and so graceful like the song but the dissonance slowly breaks your heart

Luke was one of the most most gentle, considerate, and talented individuals I've ever had the pleasure of sharing space with. He was brilliantly smart and played piano, cello, keyboard, and clarinet. We talked often in our classes together and back stages making jokes when waited for shows to start, and bring raised religiously, he had lots of questions about the real world and my exposure to it.

Our sophomore year, on a vacation to Nashville, Luke was harassed by several boys our year for taking photos at the pool. While I don't condone taking photographs of unaware people, it should be known that same year our varsity quarterback was expelled for actually taking pictures up a teachers skirt, so when they took video cornering him in the hotel until he admitted he was gay...

He struggled with his sexuality and depression for so long, and I was just a teenage girl myself. It wasnt always easy being Luke's friend. I had my own shit to sort, and Luke sometimes felt like the little brother nagging you to be better. The day he asked me to smoke weed for the first time sent a chill down my spine. He was hurting so bad, he'd given up on his ethics and moral code to soothe the pain.

I've seen many reactions to getting stoned, but I was so hurt when he was angry with me.

" give me that shit. stupid ass drugs "

In my anger I hadn't realized how scared he must have been

I took him home to sleep it off

And he started to get much more distant, but still around like a shell of his old, bubbly self

His first attempt was in the garage; he left the car on with the garage door closed.

His little sister found him, pulled him out and called his parents

She just graduated holding his picture

His second attempt, he did at school; he took half a bottle of caffeine medication, and collapsed. He was ambulanced to the hospital and there for three weeks for treatment. Medications and therapy and isolation

When he came back, so behind on class, and unfamiliar with his pieces for band, he looked me in the eyes and said,

" i go to where I want to die and look sometimes. If I try again... I'm going to succeed."

I have never hated someone so much as that moment. To put that on my shoulders when I can barely spend a night sober. I don't want you around me so I can influence you, and now Im responsible for keeping you alive

I went to an adult at the school, one of the only ones who truly knew what was going on, and she told me,

" you hit rock bottom and came back up. Sometimes you just have to let them ride it out. "

This is the same the woman who I told I was being abused and replied, " no you and him don't have the healthiest relationship but it could be worse!!"

On Monday, November 17th, 2019, he sat down at his table of 4.0 math whizzes and said,

" what would happen if you jumped off a bridge?"

And unbeknownst to those poor boys, with their textbooks and brains, they would go through gravity and angle prospects with a boy who would jump from an interstate overpass less than a mile away in less than 12 hours.

Our last interaction, in 7th period, study hall, that day, he asked me to borrow my computer charger, and instead of coming to sit next to me, he took it back to his seat. He brought it back at the end and he stared blankly at the wall before final bell.

I bump his shoulder and ask if he's good

Luke's last words are ones I cant say alone to this day

"it's just one of those days, I guess."

He didn't not leave a note, or a text

He did not say goodbye to me

He is buried in a graveyard less than 1000 meters from my mother's house

This song is the only real memory of the time I have after; its the only thing that helped my out of body feeling

I have never been the same without him, and will always wonder if I could have done more.

I miss him and go sit with him and talk with him alot.

It was painful to write this. I am crying. But you should be too. Everyone should. Luke deserved better and my community failed him.

I would do anything in my power to ensure no one else has to experience this pain. Because it hurts today just as awful as it did years ago.

Please, if you are struggling. Think about your loved ones and those who love them. Your pain will not disappear. It will transfer to everyone around you.

I genuinely would rather hear you rant, cry or scream than hear your obituary

You are so loved, and thank you for your love as well 💕 treat eachother gently

#suicideprevention #depression #anxiety #mental illness #mental health #mental health awareness #suicide awareness #bullying #awareness #sad #writing #real life #trigger #non tickles #tickling #tease

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graceerodgers · 1 year

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Introductory Post

Hello! My name is Gracee Rodgers. According to the obvious, my name means full of grace and some people may believe I live up to the name. If I had to choose between a new name and the one I have now I wouldn’t change it. I like my name. Simple, yet no one can seem to spell it right. I come from a Jamaican mother of five with me being number three. For me to be the middle child I tend to keep my composure very well. However, my sisters have me on the brink of insanity.

My first day of high school was boring. I went to a different school than all my friends, which I was already upset about, and it felt like a regular school day. My middle school was very small, I graduated with about 45 other 14 year olds. I knew everyone since before I could do simple multiplication and now we were all forced to go separate ways. My family and I were in the middle of moving counties and I wasn’t a big fan of the idea. I had to switch schools and endure another first day of high school. The school was bigger, the classes were bigger, and the students were bigger. I struggled to find my classes and ate lunch alone. I thought my original first day of high school was the worst it could get. I was wrong. My last day of high school was the complete opposite. I graduated my junior year and my school had several senior activities for us to participate in. My last day of high school was a great day, we had a “senior celebration”, picked up our cap and gowns, and ate. After school was done, my friends and I all went to the pool then got ice cream. I can count that day as one of my favorite high school memories, second to graduation day. Graduation day was so magical. A class size of over 550 people caused it to be hours long but everything was beautiful. Once we were officially announced high school graduates, everyone was either running, screaming, crying, or trying to find their cap that they've previously thrown. The day after, there was a big party and every junior and senior was in attendance. It was the first time I realized, I actually graduated high school. It was almost a feeling of freedom. Although I knew college was in our futures, graduation day was the first day of the rest of our lives. I loved graduation also because since I was an early graduate, many people didn’t believe that I was graduating a year early. It felt nice to prove to everyone that I was a part of the 2022 class. I had a great feeling of accomplishment and I was excited to continue that going into my college years. One of my least favorite high school memories consists of every day that we were required to do online school. It wasn’t hard, it was just a pain. Every morning I would go downstairs at my kitchen table trying to mimic how I would have been sitting in the event I was at school. It turned out to be a good plan, I was getting High Honor-Roll certificates in the mail every marking period. Online learning took more of a mental toll. I went from an extremely social and extroverted person, to an extremely anxious, social, and extroverted person. I am still social but I noticed that I now overthink almost every interaction I have with someone. If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t change anything. I’m happy with the way everything turned out, I'm proud of myself for accomplishing everything I did. Highschool is a once in a lifetime experience and I made so many connections that I can use for life.

I major in Communications and Media. When I ask myself what do I want to do for the rest of my life, my mind runs blank. I just told myself I didn’t want to wake up everyday to go to a job that I hate. I never figured out what I want to do in life or if these decisions are permanent. At 17 I cannot accurately tell someone where I would be in the next month, let alone the rest of my life. If I owned my own television show then I can say that I’ve achieved my dream job, but a lawyer, nurse, dentist, or surgeon can also be considered my dream jobs. I’m young and undecided.

Painting is a hobby of mine I enjoy. Not quite drawing, but painting. It seems to ease my mind when I'm anxious. Every once in a while I would put on a good show and start to paint whatever I see in my mind. Last week, the night before my road test, I was so stressed. Overthinking everything and started to get upset at the thought of failing. I put on Gilmore Girls, the show that I am currently watching, and started to paint. It calmed me down a lot, and I slept well that night. Granted, the anxiety came back in the morning but the painting helped once again. Art truly warms my heart, being able to capture the beauty of lifeless or imaginative things is talent. I recently saw a painting of a woman’s body in different shades of blue. I liked the idea so I tried to recreate it from memory while incorporating my own favorite colors.

If binge watching was a sport, then someone owes me a medal. I am fascinated with Netflix series. Wednesday, Atypical, Ginny and Georgia, Bojack Horseman, and You are just a few I’ve seen. My favorites are Orange is the New Black and Money heist, highly recommend both of them. I've also watched Criminal Minds, Shameless, Pretty Little Liars, and just about every baking show on Netflix. I've been told that I have the heart of a child. I enjoy cartoons to the max. My favorite shows are Rick and Morty, Bob's Burgers, and Family guy. I also like Adventure Time, Regular Show, Teen Titans, etc. I enjoy more Cartoon Network and Adult Swim shows rather than the Disney and nickelodeon shows. Although Gravity Falls is a Disney show, in my opinion it is much more advanced than it first seems. I believe that Gravity Falls has the potential to be an adult cartoon and the writer can have much more creative flexibility. The Walking Dead is another favorite. I watched World War Z in theaters when it first came out, ever since I have been so interested in zombies. I’ve watched almost every zombie movie on Netflix. People always tell me that werewolves and vampires are more interesting but I disagree. In my mind, there is a real possibility that zombies can one day be real. When I try to think of my least favorite show nothing comes to mind. I don't watch things that do not automatically interest me. If I start a new show and I don't like the first episode, I won't continue.

The last thing I created was a big pot of chicken alfredo, which coincidentally is one of my favorite meals. Although, If I had to choose the last meal ever I would choose a chicken-bacon quesadilla. It seems so simple but quesadillas are a comfort food for me. I don't eat them often, which keeps them special.

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okamikami1996 · 4 months

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Chapter Three- Disabilities and School

I'm going to say two words and almost all of you will probably not even need to read this chapter: Middle School. Let me say two more that will probably have half of you running for cover: Girl Drama. One word: hormones. Last word: disability. I'm pretty sure most of you already know what I'm getting at: my failed middle school career.

My family may have had a little-- or maybe a lot-- of trauma from the response to my 504 plan in elementary school, to the point where we didn't even try in middle school. We were too afraid of disappointment. So we shut up and allowed ourselves to suffer in silence. My school placed me in algebra. If you've read chapter two and how I have dyslexia, I'm pretty sure you already know that math was not going to be my favorite subject. My first year of middle school I flunked my math class. God awful. Math became not only my worst subject, but my least favorite subject. It also became another thing that was wrong with me. My ego was the equivalent of an egg that had been dropped, had cracks, but had somehow managed to retain its ovular shape. My math teacher saw I was trying-- and God knows I was, lunch periods, asking questions, getting tutoring, trying to get seating that was away from chatterboxes, asking for more information-- he gave me a C, instead of the D that my grade most certainly was. My mom had me retake the year. Guess what? I got an A. Weirdly, it didn't give me that "Oh, I actually am smart feel", instead I felt like I just got lucky. Self worth was almost a zero. I wanted people to accept me as I was, but it isn't that easy. I should have understood that, but I think I was desperate for someone to like me despite having four disabilities: I told people that I was ADD, I told them I was bipolar, I told them I took medication. It didn't go well. I still had friends, thank god. However, if I'm being honest, I'm not sure how healthy some of the relationships were. Two of my friends thought I was an attention hog. Can't blame them, how many disabilities did I have? How hard was it to have them? How many boys bullied me? To them, I probably was fishing for attention. It's kind of like Trump says: "There's no such thing as bad publicity". Maybe that's what they thought I was doing?

I had another friend who argued with me about whether it's sadder to get a puppy and watch it get sick and die, or have a dog your whole life and have it die. How many times did I tell her that I thought both were sad? I also had a super amazing friend who stayed with me from the 5th grade. She was literally my saving grace up until high school when we went to different schools. Middle school was mainly a development of extreme depression that was kept hidden by my friend group. In all honesty, I was lucky to have a friend group at all with how disabilities and taking medication was seen at the time.

I was taking 90 mgs of Abilify (no idea if that is how it is spelled) and 900 mgs of Seriquiel (no idea if that is how this is spelled either). For any of you who don't know: these are dangerous amounts of drugs to take. Like really, really dangerous, and my doctors probably should have lost their licenses. The reason behind my taking so much drugs was simple: if 60 mgs don't work increase it to 90 mgs. Yeah. According to them this was the only drug to treat bipolar disorder we HADN'T tried.

High school was absolute hell. My friends all went to the other high school, and I went to the new charter school. Fun, right? I had learned more or less what a shit idea it was to announce that I had disabilities. Well, just being depressed for now reason was no better. Or not being able to hear people. Let me be straight, Da Vinci Charter Academy was a school that valued group projects. We had no choice but to talk to each other and communicate. Everyone at the small community school thought I was just being difficult. That I was faking not being able to hear. After a few failed attempts at taking direction for my peers I was cut out, even if I asked for them to write it down.

"Nevermind." That is all I got back. Finally, I closed myself off. Completely from everyone at school. I'm pretty sure high school was also when I began to hide away in my room all the time. I began to see kitchen knives and stand in front of them for ten minutes just trying to get myself to kill myself and be done with it. I had an impulse I could not control where I would blurt out, "I hate myself and I deserve to die". I almost blurted it out in the middle of a lecture more times than I can count. There would be times where I was actually happy and laughing with my family where I would all of a sudden just say, "I hate myself and I deserve to die". I ruined a lot of happy moments with that. It was an impulse that I could not control. I couldn't go to therapy, my first and last therapist, Susan, was a mistake my family could not afford to repeat. So we just followed what the doctors said and added more drugs. I was numb to almost everything but my own pain. I didn't trust people, I couldn't take compliments. There was a boy who tried to hang out with me, but I told him to just leave me alone because he was friends with the boys who hated me. Imagine walking up to a table or being invited by another girl and have the group stop talking when you came to sit down. Imagine trying to join the conversation that started back up and have everyone just be silent. Imagine having people tell you to just "go the fuck away" when you came to talk to them. By year two, I didn't speak to anyone unless I had to. I had to constantly remind myself that my classmates were not to be trusted.

I had a teacher named Mr. Milsap who was pretty nice to me. We had moments of awkward silence when I answered questions, but I really liked his class. Loved it. I surprisingly don't remember very well when I got my 504 plan reinstated. I should, but I don't. I know it had to be in the second year of high school, when I was so depressed and miserable at school that I was literally barricading myself in my room so I didn't have to go to school, that my mom had enough. She thought that the kids would at least stop leaving me out of conversations if they knew I had a hearing disability. I was against it, at first. Terrified of what would happen if everyone knew I had a disability. We held a meeting. I had to sit and listen to teachers compliment me on my strengths. That was torture. I had a physical aversion to being complimented, like I needed to leave the room right away if someone did. It was painful to be complimented. I remember my teacher Maestra Rameriez was the teacher who I owed the most to. She was a woman who never treated me inferior to other students despite my butchering of the Spanish language in class and my endless need to repeat things. She was the most accepting of my 504 plan. If she ever reads this, and knows who I am: thank you so much, you have no idea how much you meant to me in school.

Mr. Milsap was not. In fact, he argued against it the whole time. I remember nothing after the first part of the meeting when the teachers all went around the table and complimented me. I do remember almost word for word the conversation afterward where my mother spoke to me about her less than spectacular impression of Mr. Milsap. I only know that he was the only person to argue against my 504 plan through her retelling. I don't think I actually remembered even as we drove home that day. After that, my time in his class became terrible. God awful. He would often yell at me randomly in my TA class with him. Then, there was that project. We were told to give a presentation on how someone had discriminated against us. I used my hearing disability. I had been given hope, finally. It was true, the kids no longer left me out of conversations now that I had a 504 plan. I thought maybe this would further turn the tables. At least twice a week I took the project into Mr. Milsap until he told me I was sure to get an A. Full credit. I got I C. Why? According to him, I went five minutes over the time limit. Two grades lower because I went over the time limit?

That may have been it for me for a while. I didn't talk anymore in that class, or not as much as I had been. My ego had been shot again. I was still majorly depressed. I could tell you good things about people who constantly bullied me or spoke rudely to me, I don't think I could have told you one good thing about myself. I was a wreck. I was constantly fighting with my mother, a few times I almost ran away from home during my nightly dog walks. I lived for the most part like I was dead. I graduated high school went to a community college, and got hit with something much, much worse: rheumatoid arthritis.

#disability #depression #middle and high school #failure #autobiography

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rogersstevie · 5 months

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i know it is in part how much i hate new years but the last several days have just been like ooh i am so close to snapping and everything makes me so grumpy so easily

like it's hard with the new cat bc she's so tiny like grace like it's very bittersweet and i love her of course and she's very different but it does feel just like her weight and like i didn't really expect mom to find one that tiny. and then our kitten who's not a kitten has been very distressed about the new cat and not eating - he actually got an appetite stimulant today which helped - obviously it's just due to his mood but that ofc reminds me of grace at the very end and trying to get her to eat and how awful it felt when she wouldn't

and then i went to my cousins' over the weekend to give my godson his presents and i adore spending time with the kids, bc they're so fun, but EVERY TIME they're a little rambunctious, especially the second youngest, and i get it with the way my temper is i would not be able to handle that, hence why i do not want kids, bc i don't want to be that mean just bc i'm frustrated and hi yelling doesn't help change their behavior lol if it did they wouldn't act up, but yeah like every time i go over there, there's yelling, and like. idk i am family i guess but even then idt my parents would've yelled at me in front of any sort of company. admittedly, i didn't really misbehave i guess but even my brother who went through a period of time in his teen years where he got into a lot of trouble, i can't imagine anyone would've yelled at him if he had friends over or something. like for all my beefs with my parents, of which there are many, at least they wouldn't do that. and maybe the kids are like, resilient or whatever, but i'm just like. okay don't do that on my account idc if they act up as long as they're not hurting anyone, but maybe it's just like that regularly who can say.

and there are certain things like they often do the "oh you want to take the kids with you" type of joke and i'm just like they could really internalize that and feel like. unwanted you know. idk i guess they're the only people i know with four kids but hey my brother has three kids and tbf one of them is much older than the others but like, he and his wife can be stern if need be without yelling and stuff. and i'm sooo bad at extricating myself from situations, i mean since i only see them a couple times a year, i WANT to spend the time, because it feels right and like i said, i think the kids are fun and goofy and everything but it's hard when their behavior goes a little too far and they get yelled at. plus i do figure it's in part the excitement of seeing someone they don't regularly see so like maybe their daily life is a lot calmer lol

and ofc with all this excess stress thinking about work stuff and dealing with personal stuff etc etc the numbness in my leg has been a lot more constant and it's just like ugh why won't that just go away if there's not an answer other than stress lol like does my body not have enough stress reactions like sometimes it's getting lightheaded or nauseous AND i've been having an itch on my back that i think could be stres related like listen just PICK ONE okay i do not need my body doing multiple things because i'm stressed lol that just makes everything worse

anyway i was so close to having the cry i needed the other day like right there and it was perfect bc it was right before my shower bc i don't need anybody KNOWING i'm crying and then i got distracted so it didn't come through and now i'm still waiting for it

#personal

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project1939 · 7 months

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Day 46- Film: High Noon

Release date: July 24th, 1952.

Studio: United Artists

Genre: Western

Director: Fred Zinnemann

Producer: Stanley Kramer

Actors: Gary Cooper, Thomas Mitchell, Llyod Bridges, Katy Jurado, Grace Kelly

Plot Summary: Will Kane, the Marshal of Hadleyville, is retiring to marry his Quaker sweetheart. She wants nothing to do with guns, and they plan to leave town and live a quiet life. Just as they are leaving, a message arrives that a psychopathic criminal Will tried to have sentenced to death is on the noon train, and three of his goons will be there to meet him. Will goes all over town trying to deputize people to help him stand them off. Everywhere he goes, people are scared or selfish or have some reason why they won’t help. As the clock ticks closer and closer to noon, Kane becomes desperate to find anyone who will stand up and fight with him.

My Rating (out of five stars): *****

(Spoilers!) Like Singin’ in the Rain, I have an especially vivid history with this film as a film student. I took a class in Westerns in college, because the class I wanted to take was full. I thought I hated Westerns, but the professor I had was so good, it ended up being one of my favorite classes. The first time I saw High Noon, I remember the goosebumps I had watching it, knowing that the guy who wrote the film was a blacklisted writer during the McCarthy witch hunts. Clearly the story is not just about a small-town Marshal. Kane finds that everyone, his friends, his hero and mentor, the church, the government, his co-workers and insubordinates... not one will stand up. Everyone can find a reason to argue or run. And look at what happened during the Blacklist years in Hollywood! Almost no one actually stood up to McCarthy’s committees. Everyone was terrified of losing their reputations and careers.

The Good:

I love films that take place in a short period of time, and this film takes place in the span of its running time- about 85 minutes. Most of it is the hour or so Will has to find deputies before the train gets in at noon. Having the constant reminders of time ticking by, as it is happening, adds so much to the suspense and immersion you feel watching it.

It’s a short, sparse, slickly edited masterpiece! It doesn't have an ounce of “fat” on it. Nothing is filler.

It’s almost an anti-Western. It doesn’t have any action until the end really. A lot of conservatives hated it, John Wayne included, because they thought Kane was weak for desperately running around to find help. They didn’t like that Kane looked and acted scared sometimes. They didn’t like that his wife helped save him. That’s why I love it! Kane is not some cardboard Western stud. Most people aren’t! And Kane is definitely not a weak character. It’s the ridiculous John Wayne types that think he is. Don’t listen to them.

My favorite Westerns are psychological allegorical ones, and you cannot get any better than this.

I like that this is not sentimentalized or idealized. It’s cynical and gritty and about the pain of reality. It’s an adult Western.

I love the character of Helen Ramirez. She was smart and strong and beautiful, and when she told Lloyd Bridges to get his hands off of her, I wanted to shout with joy.

There are no stereotypes of Native Americans in this at all. I don’t know if I can even think of another Western from the Classic period in Hollywood where that was true- even the ones that had good intentions!

This is the kind of role that Gary Cooper was made for- and he did win an Oscar for it. He is so good at playing plain-spoken “men of few words." He’s really effective at letting you know what he’s feeling without saying it.

The detail in the sweat on everybody’s faces! It’s one of those Westerns where you almost feel the heat and the dust like the characters do.

The final shot when Kane throws his badge on the ground still feels like the most beautifully painful punch in the gut. I don't think there could be a more perfect way to end the film.

The Bad:

Is there anything? I guess near the end I get a little sick of hearing “Do Not Forsake Me!” It’s a good song, but we hear it a lot.

I don’t love Grace Kelly’s character. I don’t dislike her, but I wish she could have been a little stronger. I also wish they could have cast someone a little older. I like that she’s a Quaker, though. It adds another interesting layer to everything.

#project1952 #1952 #project1952 day 46 #100 films of 1952

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itsyourchoicedevotionals · 1 year

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Tests And Trials

“But who can endure the day of His coming? Who can stand when He appears? For He will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; He will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver. Then the Lord will have men who will bring offerings in righteousness,” Malachi 3:2-3NIV

Fire is a good thing for heat, purifying silver and gold, making steel, even cooking outside. At times God uses His fire to refine His people, as in our text, also a good thing, except God’s fire comes in the form of trials and tests. “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” James 1:2-4ESV

Peter speaks to us about trials we want to avoid, none volunteers to experience these trials. This is what I equate my past three months with, where I learned an entirely new side of God. 1Peter 4:12ESV “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.” I figured out God allowed the test, then why He allowed it. Prayerfully, I hope I’ve learned the lesson and becme a little more refined.

Yahweh always has a purpose for allowing tests and trials. They’re to make us faultless, blameless to stand before His throne. He wants us to be filled with righteousness, and HIs love. “Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of His glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen” Jude 24-25ESV.

Prophetesses Julie Green and Amanda Grace are saying nationally we’re going to exit Egypt, but trials are coming. Trials? Testings? Many of the prophets have been saying we’ll go without communications means, no phones, TVs, internet for a period of time. Will we rejoice because we’re being refined? Can it be that we won’t trust God and fall for the first bit of news we hear? Don’t you believe we’d best get into the secret place of the Most High God now, see Psalms 91?

Will these trials be like the Israelites experienced because they refused to believe God was with them in the wilderness? One of my FB friends, Josh Huffman, said it like this— ‘God used Moses to deliver the Israelites out of Egypt. But He used the wilderness to bring Egypt out of the Israelites.’ Let us pray we and our nation don’t have to endure another forty years in the wilderness suffering before we can offer faith, love, and righteousness to Him, shall we? It’s your choice. You choose.

LET’S PRAY: Holy God, I know that even trials are from Your love and perfect will, usually allowed by our transgressions. In the trials I beg for mercy, healing, and power to overcome, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.

#Jesus Christ #lord of lords #word of god #Holy Spirit #God #it's your choice #devotionals #trials #tests #righteousness #purifying #silver #gold #various #allowing #fire #refine #love #hope #faith

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jhaunae · 1 year

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To All the Friends I’ve Lost Before

Three reasons why I keep losing friends; and three reasons why I continue to forgive myself

It’s the end of the year, so naturally I’m reflecting on the chaos that was 2022. If I have to be very honest, I didn’t have too many expectations coming into this year, mainly because I feel like whenever I try to set New Year’s resolutions, God always has completely different plans for my life.

What I didn’t expect, however, was to lose as many loved ones as I did. Fortunately, I didn’t have any deaths in my life this year, but losing some of my closest friends has left a similar-sized hole in my heart.

When it first started happening, I really beat myself up about it. I combed through all of the things I could’ve done or said differently. I blamed myself for every missed call, every argument, every hangout session I may have flaked on. I’m far from perfect, but it wouldn’t have made a difference to the friends who were committed to misunderstanding me.

So here are 3 reasons why I keep losing friends, and 3 reasons why I (am trying to) no longer care.

They say that you can’t make friends if you’re always in the house and at this point, I’ve accepted my fate.

I really love being in my home (Take it away, Penny!) because… it’s cozy and I paid for it and I simply want to maximize the return on my investment. I’ve curated my space to my exact liking and I don’t see the point in leaving unless it’s for family, business, or travel.

I would say that my friends are always welcome to come over, but my doors are ONLY open to the friends who know when it’s time to go home.

If I had a dollar for every time someone said to me, “Jhaunae, you never text back or answer the phone,” I’d without a doubt be Jeff Bezos rich by now.

I would love to blame it on the fact that after talking to people all day at work for 8+ hours straight, I just want to sit in silence without having to worry about saying the right or wrong thing. But the truth is that I just forget to text and call y’all back because life moves at Godspeed and sometimes I can’t keep up.

I know that some people require consistent communication in friendship – I am simply not one of those friends. Sincere apologies if my silence has made you feel as if I don’t care, but it’s nothing personal. It is something that I’m working on, but I’m grateful for the friends who accept me as I am at this moment.

For years I’ve had so many different voices, from my parents to close friends to romantic partners, telling me who I am and how I should live my life.

And the only way I’ve been able to break free from all the noise has been to isolate and grow comfortable with being alone. That is what 2022 has done for me.

It has been through this period of silence and isolation that I’ve been able to make room for God’s voice in my life to reconnect with myself, my beliefs and my purpose.

I really did enter this year unsure of where life would take me. Now as the year comes to a close, I feel clearer than ever about who I am. And while I am unsure of exactly how my life will unfold in 2023, I do know that the peace I have with my current trajectory would not exist if I hadn’t prioritized spending ample amounts of time alone.

And I’m not apologizing for that.

I am confident that I’ve shown up for my friends as much as I’ve been able to as I also prioritize tending to my own mental, spiritual and emotional needs. I am proud of myself not only for extending grace to my friends who are going through equally difficult life transitions, but am also proud that I can extend this grace to myself – I know that I’ve done the best that I can as a human doing life for the first time and as a friend who actually does care.

I am also at peace with the understanding that my best will not be good enough for everyone. And that is okay. I haven’t met all of the people who I will love and who are going to love me, but when I do, we’ll accept and love each other for exactly who we are and what we each have to offer. All of my relationships that fulfill my highest good are harmonic and I affirm that I am seen.

I also release the idea that every failed relationship has to end in beef. If we’re incompatible, we’re incompatible and that’s that. It doesn’t have to be a whirlwind of drama and slammed doors. I release the friends who were only meant to be in my life for a season – I send you love and I wish you the best.

My goal for 2023 is to surround myself with friends who respect me and inspire me to be a better me. Because I am capable of giving the love that I also want to receive.

Love,

Jhaunae Elisha

#friends #healing #breakup #blog

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havin-a-wee · 3 years

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If Only She Knew

pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap

hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

“Geez watch where you’re going!”

You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.

Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.

High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.

“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.

“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.

Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.

After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.

But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.

You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.

You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.

You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.

It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.

However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.

You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.

It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.

“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”

“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.

“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.

“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.

The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.

Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.

“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.

Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.

The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.

“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.

Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.

Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.

“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.

“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”

“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”

“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.

“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.

In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.

At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.

“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.

“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”

“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.

“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”

“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.

Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.

And now you wait.

Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.

He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.

When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.

Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.

“Y’can’t do that.”

Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.

“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.

“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”

“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.

“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.

“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.

You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).

He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.

“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.

“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.

“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”

The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.

Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.

“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”

“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.

You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.

You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.

“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”

“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.

“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.

“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”

“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.

As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.

You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.

“Harry?”

He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.

“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”

“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.

“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”

“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.

You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.

“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.

“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.

“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.

“Ugh! What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles story #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles blog #harry styles headcannon #harry styles au #dad!harry #one direction smut #one direction fanfiction

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bubblyhoney · 3 years

Note

can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk

places i used to go

warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

words: 2191

A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd

inbox/requests: open

The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.

“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.

“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.

“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”

You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.

You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.

“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”

“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.

“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.

The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.

“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.

“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.

“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.

“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.

“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.

“Are you—?”

“What?” You reply right back.

“Nothing.”

Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.

“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.

“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”

You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.

“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.

“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.

The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.

“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.

“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”

“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”

“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.

Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.

Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.

“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.

“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.

You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.

“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.

“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.

“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.

The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.

“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.

You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.

“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”

You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”

He just smirks.

“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”

“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”

He just shrugs and continues down the side street.

“Is this the park you were talking about?”

He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.

“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”

“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”

It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.

“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.

“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.

You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.

“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.

“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.

You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.

“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.

You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.

You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x gn!reader #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap drabble #sapnap one shot #sapnap oneshot #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #honey answers #my lovely anon #sapnap fanfic #bubblyhoneyfics

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kkusuka · 3 years

Note

NEKOMA GANGBANG PLEASE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nekoma<3

Fem! Reader

Gangbang Msterlist!

Honestly, you joined as a manager because you needed an extracurricular to put on your resume

Managing a boy sports team was the perfect thing to do, it was a great idea!

In the moment

Originally your understanding of the volleyball team was that they were a bunch of guys who got together after classes and hit a ball over a net for three hours

And it took you a whole of five minutes to realize that you were wrong

They were passionate about what they were doing, they really loved playing volleyball, poured their all into the game

And eventually, their passion carried over to you, slowly you began to love the game just as much as they did

You really got into it too, making theme lunches, coming early to set everything up so they don't have to, taking them out for food after a loss

And they met your energy tenfold

Little snacks here and there, help with homework, cleaning all of the equipment so you don't have to stay later than you should

But that didn't stop them from going all out sometimes.

You should’ve known what white day had in store for you, gifts upon gifts you had to get more bags just to hold some of the things you got

It was clear how they felt about you; you were theirs and theirs alone

It was obvious in how Kuroo would be the only person who could sit next to you in class, and how Yaku would talk to you the entire lunch period like he’d never speak to you again

Lev and Inuoka’s constant rambling about anything in their line of sight

Yamamoto practically worshiping the ground you walk on

Or how Kenma’s head would find its way into your lap every class break and wouldn't let you go until you were almost late

You were the perfect manager

You made sure they were always doing their best and made sure that they were always feeling their best

So when some of them began to talk about how on edge they were because of blue balls, you really did feel bad

That was such an odd thing to not be performing at their best for

And it sounded kinda painful :(

So you offered your services!

It was your responsibility to make sure they are all doing well and you didn't mind being a cum-dump for them, it was the least you could do for them

Lev and Yaku go first. It is mostly because Lev is the most persistent and no one wants to kill the mood by telling him off, even Kenma. He takes your pussy, no question. Lev may not be thick, but he is by far the longest on the team. He would take a boobjob but he’d rather take a hole and since he’s first, his job is to stretch you out for the people to come. So he leans against something and lets you straddle his waist, taking him into your cunt and normally grinds into you, letting your clit hot his base.

“You look so small on my cock, конфетка (sweetie/candy)”

“You have such a tung little pussy, it feels so nice around me.”

Yaku joins Lev to try and settle him down. He’s a third year so he has to keep the first years form don’t something stupid. Of course, he just gets riled up and ends up trying to overpower him. And it’s in a few ways, either he takes your ass, but mostly he shoves his way into your already stuffed pussy. And thank god Lev isn’t girthy because Yaku specializes in that department. Then when Yaku speeds up, Lev has to go harder and a vicious circle ensues.

“Fucking move Lev, or just let me do it if you can’t.”

“Good little girl, taking two cocks in her cunt like a good whore.”

And that’s where Kai steps in. He's never very drastic with his methods, but when the two idiots are going at it, he politely steps in and grounds them back to earth. He stays for moral support, taking your mouth so he can rub away your tears and remind you how amazing you are. He let you bob all over his dick at whatever pace you want, all as long as he gets to shoot his load in your pretty mouth.

“Atta baby ignore them, you’re doing amazing. Pretty little thing you are.”

Following those three, Inuoka and Shibayama step in. it is not like Lev who just wanted to get it over with, it is more like a last grace before some of the more… rough guys take their turn. They go for a more simple split roast, Shibayama in your mouth where Inuoka inhabits your pussy. Neither of them are rough, they practically treat you like glass, caressing every part of your body, making you comfortable between them. They take their time, much to Yamamoto’s dismay, making sure you cum at least twice with them, they live to please their pretty little manager.

“You’re so good for us”

“We’ll do all the work, you just sit back and feel nice baby.”

The dutiful second years take their palace in record time when their underclassmen have finished. Yamamoto takes the lead, sitting you on his lap while he commands Fukunaga to your ass. They also mark you up the most, the position they have you in gives them great access to your neck and boobs. You're practically left bruised for days. The boys don’t really let you move, Yamamoto holds you up so they can thrust up in your holes. Fukunaga is more silent, he shows how he feels with a mouth on your neck and his hand on your clit. Yamamoto is far more vocal, whether it be praise or reminding you that you’re a hole for him to blow his load into.

“So, so pretty for us, gonna mark you up real nice, right?”

“God, fuck, I wish I could have you bouncing on my dick all the time.”

Then when you’re all fucked out, Kuroo scoops you into his arms like prince charming. Kenma would lay on his back and ley Kuroo pressed you onto him, snuggling his face into your breasts. They love to share a hole, gotta go out with a bang y’know!

Kuroo slides into you first, Kenma’s busy worshiping your nipples so he takes matters into his own hands for some time. He’ll fuck you a little bit, get you nice, stretched, and ready for when Kenma wants a piece of your cunt too. Honestly, Kuroo does most of the work, you only really need him to anyway. He fucks into you that pushes you along kenma’s cock, pushes you further into his face. Kenma does pay far more attention to your clit than his best friend. One thing is that they never talk to you, only ever speaking to each other while they fuck you with abandon.

“You feel that? Ken, I think kitten’s cumming again! What is that five?”

“We should’ve done this sooner, who knew she would be such a willing slut for us.”

They do buy you hell gifts after this though

tags: @bakugos-cumsock

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lxngbottom · 3 years

Text

Cramps. | N.L. (+ D.T & S.F.)

in which the reader is having a really bad period, so her three best friends come and check up on her.

warnings: pain, periods, bleeding, swearing, we know how it is.

i’m on my period rn, & these three boys are my fav characters so this is mostly to comfort me (and idk if you guys can even relate, but my periods get THIS bad) (edit: this was NOT supposed to be this long but oh well i love these three)

gryffindor reader! (but anyone can read obv)

—

somehow, you had managed to make it through the previous school day. but, the whole time your stomach felt like it was completely turning on you, and with every step you took, the bleeding was so heavy. you couldn’t even remember the last time you went through so many pads and tampons in one day.

on top of that, you were an absolute emotional wreck. and, that became apparent to neville when seamus laughed over tripping over your shoe lace, and you looked up at your three best friends with tears in your eyes.

“merlin, y/n! i was only messing with you! what’s wrong?” seamus furrowed his eyebrows at you, only for you to bend down and groan in pain as you attempted to tie your loose shoe laces.

“i can’t do it!” you whined, a tear finally escaping your tired eyes. you stood up, and sniffled, not noticing the genuine concerned looks plastered across the three boys’s faces.

and then, if things couldn’t get any worse, you felt someone tap your shoulder. you turned around to meet a terrified looking ron and harry, staring down at your legs,

“y-y-y/n... blood! t-t-there’s blood running down your legs!”

you looked down, and sure enough, there was a bunch of it. you automatically began to cry, and the sobbing only got worse as you realized that this was happening in front of not one, not two, but five boys.

“nev—neville... p-please give me your jacket...” you choked out, rushing as the blood seeped between your thighs. he did so quickly, tossing it to you, and your tied it around your waist before running into the nearest bathroom.

“why would you point that out?” dean asked ron, eyeing him,

“what?! would it be better for her to stay like that the rest of the day?” the ginger snapped back, still not putting two and two together. ron wasn’t exactly wrong, but his execution was awful.

the boys sighed, deciding that maybe waiting outside the bathroom would do you some good. but, unfortunately, as 15 minutes passed, you never came out.

“m-m-maybe someone should go and get hermione. or lavendar. or one of the parvati twins?” neville suggested, scratching the back of his neck. seamus shrugged, honestly clueless on how to handle the whole situation.

luckily, a saving grace skipped by, grabbing the attention of all of the boys,

“ginny!” ron called out, and she stopped in her tracks, “thank merlin you’re here!”

the look on her face was questionable as harry, ron, neville, dean, and seamus all stared at her.

“w-what?”

dean spoke up first, more than concerned, “y/n went in there. she—she had—blood running down her legs. and, she started crying...”

that’s all it took for ginny to nod her head, “okay. you guys go ahead. i’ll take care of her!”

they did so reluctantly, more so your three best friends. as ron and harry wanted to be away from the whole scenario as soon as possible.

and, that was the last they heard from you yesterday. today, they waited for you to come down from the girl’s dorm, but you never came.

they waited for you in the great hall, but again, you never came.

little did they know, you were curled up in a ball on your bed, sobbing from the excruciating pain that filled your whole body. this cycle was hitting you like a truck, and you’d wished that somehow you had been more prepared for it.

hermione had left you reluctantly that morning, never seeing a fellow girl having such a bad period before. you had cried all night, and you and her both had barely gotten any sleep. so that’s why when neville saw hermione drifting off to sleep during a shared class, he was absolutely baffled.

as that same class ended, the three boys caught up with hermione,

“hey, granger! where’s y/n?” seamus asked, and she rubbed her eyes.

“she—um—“ a yawn interrupted her response, “she’s in our dorm. she doesn’t feel well.”

neville’s mouth went agape, and he finally put two and two together.

“i wouldn’t go and see her, though. you guys embarrassed her yesterday. she told me all about ronald, and ginny, and seamus. she’s really upset, and... she’s just in a lot of pain. so, just let her be for a while.”

and with that, she left the three boys. they gave each other weird looks, mentally questioning each other.

you on the other hand at this time, were crying as you changed out your bed sheets for the second time that day. it wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable experience to have to explain to a house elf why you needed a bunch of new clean sheets.

dinner soon came, and even then, the boys expected to see you sitting with them, eating and laughing. but, you still hadn’t left that dorm.

so, neville packed some extra food, and the three made a journey to gryffindor tower, just to see if they could break the rules to make sure you weren’t dying. (of course, all three of them were convinced that you were on your death bed.)

they slipped past the prefect, climbing up the stairs to your dorm.

dean was just about to knock when they all heard your voice,

“stop, hermione! please! i don’t care that i missed my classes! i’ve been puking all day, bled on my bed, almost shit my pants four times, so, i really don’t care about snape and what he said about me! piss off!”

seamus’s lips curled, and the sound he let out could only be described as pure disgust. but, neville nudged him,

“she can’t help it. don’t be like that...” he whispered, still not sure if you were alright with visitors at the moment.

“well, i’m sorry! but, dean, neville, and seamus are all worried about you! they—“

that’s when they heard a blood curdling scream, and it sounded exactly like you. it made them jump,

“I WANT TO KILL MYSELF! FUCK!”

“don’t say that! it’s only for a few days, y/n! i told you i would help you with anything you needed!”

“then you can start by fucking off! go away!”

the boys looked at each other,

“maybe—“

“yeah—“

“later.”

they all mutually agreed, and ran down the stairs before hermione had the chance to see them.

they settled in the common room, deciding to do their homework until they knew it was a safe call to go and see you. they all worried about you tremendously, as they had never heard you talk to a fellow friend like that. you simple weren’t that type of person in their eyes. you had always been patient with people, so it was a wonder to them how you loved them so much.

they spotted ginny, walking up to the girl’s dormitories with a glass of ice cream in hand. they naturally assumed it was for you. and truth be told, when ginny entered with a sweet smile on her face, holding the cold treat, you realized you had never been more happy to see a weasley before.

as pathetic as it sounded, you cried to ginny while eating the chocolate ice cream. you sobbed to her about all the events of that day, and the day before. your crush on neville and how you believed he didn’t feel the same, the way that seamus chewed too loudly, and how hermione was too uptight sometimes. she simply listened, knowing that’s all she could really do.

finally, the three boys saw ginny coming down the the glass now empty, and they ran up to her,

“is she okay?”

“what’s happening?”

“can we go and see her?”

she chuckled and shook her head them, “she’s fine, you guys. calm down. i’m not so sure if she’ll want to see you guys, but you guys can sure try.”

they all three looked at each other, slightly terrified.

but, they sucked it up and made their way up again. of course, seamus couldn’t hold back from making a snide comment,

“i swear, if i get a book thrown at my head and end up in the hospital wing with a concussion, i’m blanking it on neville.”

“why me?!” neville scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air,

“because! you fancy her and are the most worried about her! she’s just on her period! is it really that big of a deal?”

before neville could answer, dean cut in, “yes, seamus. it is a big deal. maybe not to us, but to her it is. try bleeding out of your dick for a week while your inside are ripping apart!”

if you would’ve been present, you definitely wouldn’t hugged dean for that one.

they finally arrived, and they argued for a moment over who would be the once to knock on the door. it felt like they were stepping into a death trap. finally, neville agreed to do it.

he did so gently,

“what?” you asked, “who is it?”

dean and seamus eyed each other, definitely panicking.

“erm—it’s... us...”

you groaned, and looked down at your state. you were only in your bra and underwear, trash bucket in your lap, nausea getting the best of you... again.

but, you figured seeing your three best friends would bring you some comfort. this wasn’t their fault, and you didn’t want to take it out on them anymore.

“um... you can come in, but warning! i’m—“

before you could warn them, the door flew open,

“naked...” you breathed out, looking down at the trash can.

they all went wide eyed, and neville covered dean and seamus’s eyes with his hands, and closed his own.

“close the door, you gits!”

neville did so with his foot, still covering everyone’s eyes. you let out a small chuckle at the fact, and shook your head.

“you guys can look, you know. you act like we haven’t been best friends since first year.”

“b-b-but you’re—naked!” dean responded, through neville still keeping his own hand over the boy’s face.

you pursed your lips as you felt vomit climbing it’s way up your throat, “who—“

that’s when they heard it. the violent sound of puking. neville thanked merlin that his eyes were closed, because he probably would’ve puked too.

“who cares?” you breathed out, wiping the slobber from your chin. that’s when seamus took neville’s hand away from his eyes, and realized how you looked.

you looked unrecognizable almost. you looked exhausted, pale, and like you had just been hit by twenty cars at one time. your eyes were all puffy and red from crying, and your hair was definitely not put together like it usually was. makeup was smeared all down your face, makeup from the day before that you simply didn’t have the motivation to get up and wash off. but, seamus couldn’t help but notice your bra and underwear.

“you—“ he chuckled, “you have teddy bears on your undergarments, y/n?”

you clenched your jaw, and tightened your grasp around the trash can, narrowing your eyes at him. his eyes widened,

“kidding! i was only kidding! they suit you well!”

finally, dean shoved neville’s hand off as well, and neville opened his eyes back up reluctantly. neville and dean took in your state, much less of a laughing matter to them, as they were more of the calm friends.

“merlin, y/n... are you alright?” neville asked, approaching you slowly. you shook your head,

“i’m dying...”

the three boys gasped, and you looked at them funny, “i’m kidding... but i feel like i might...”

that settled their nerves a bit, the theory of you dying slowly fading away. you spit in the trash can, and set it back down on the floor. of course, seamus being the curious cat he is, looked in the trash can.

“don’t look at my vomit, finnigan! don’t you have any manners?”

he jumped back, and nodded his head.

“what are you guys doing here, anyway?” you asked, laying down fully on the bed, stomach and legs exposed.

“well—we know—you—you sorta—“

neville sighed at dean’s awkwardness about the whole situation, “we know you’re on your period. and, we know that you’re in a lot of pain. and, we just wanted to come and check up on you.” he glanced at the other two boys, “right?”

“yeah, definitely!”

“totally!”

you giggled at seamus and dean, “oh, what gentlemen. how could i ever thank you?”

seamus couldn’t hold it in. the comment just slipped from his lips,

“well, seeing you in your bra and underwear is thanks enough in my book!” he joked, nudging dean.

surprisingly, the only one who laughed beside seamus... was you. this surprised the boys, as you were sure that would earn seamus that book to his temple, or at least a smack to the face. but, it didn’t.

“see? i told you guys she’s fine! she’s laughing like she always does!”

neville seemed to look over at you for reassurance, just to make sure that seamus hadn’t crossed a boundary with one of his crude jokes. it was something that seamus had done quite a few times, without even realizing it, but it was simply because he didn’t know how to put a filter on. you knew at the end of the day that seamus wasn’t trying to disrespect you. plus, it was something you had go get used to, being one of his best friends and all.

at one point, the boys had eased into the floor, getting things for you if you needed it. seamus even asked why exactly girls even got periods, and you explained it to him in full detail.

“so... like—the inside of your uterus is actually tearing? i thought dean was joking about that!”

you shook your head, “unfortunately, it’s not a joke, finnigan. it’s very real...”

“well, is it this bad for all girls?”

“no, actually. some girls only bleed for a couple of days, and it’s very light. they can go without cramps, puking... lucky bitches!”

that’s when the boys fell silent, even seamus himself. until he raised an eyebrow,

“is it bad that i’m kinda curious? you know—to see how it feels to... bleed... down—there...”

dean furrowed his eyebrows, but neville nodded his head in agreement.

“well, boys... i can’t make you bleed out your dick for seven days straight... but, i can punch you guys in the stomach with full force and show you how cramps feel!”

collectively, they all disagreed, which caused you to fall into a fit of laughter.

“but—it can’t be that bad, right? i mean, everyone can get a stomach ache...” dean questioned, but unsure of what he had just said.

“let me put it to you like this, thomas. imagine the weasley twins sneaking a muggle laxative into your morning pumpkin juice...” you started, “but that stomach pain for a whole week.”

dean put his head down, finally understanding. no wonder you had talked about almost shitting your pants.

that’s when the door swung open, revealing a surprised hermione,

“y/n! where are your clothes?! boys are in here! and plus, they’re not even supposed to be in here, anyway!” she snapped, immediately storming over to your closet, and pulling out a random shirt, throwing it at you.

“but, it’s too hot! and, any tightness hurts!”

“i don’t care! i couldn’t imagine sitting around with ronald and harry with my—lady parts hanging out!”

you chuckled at her hidden shaming, quite used to it by now. “oh, whatever, granger! it’s the same difference as a bathing suit! lighten up!”

seamus and dean snickered at the look on her face, and the way she stormed out.

“she’s right, y/n. not about—you know, we don’t care... but, just—seamus will be talking about it for the rest of his natural life if you keep your clothes off any longer.” neville stated, standing up and taking his sweater off. he passed it to you, making sure not to touch you in anyway that would make you uncomfortable.

you smiled at the kind gesture. sure, it was a sweater, and you probably should choose the lighter t-shirt that hermione had snagged out for you. but, it was neville’s sweater, so, how could you refuse?

you slipped it on over your head, and pulled your hair through the hole. it was quite comfortable, and you were just the right amount of warm and cool. so, it worked out in the end. “thank you, longbottom. that was sweet.”

his face turned red at the small grin etched upon your face, but he shook it off and sat back down on the floor.

you all began talking again, not even noticing when seamus had gotten bored and ancy, and started snooping in your drawers. but, his eyes went wide at the sight of something in your drawer. he picked it up, and stared at it for a moment.

“uh... y/n...” he started, voice a bit shaky, “what’s this?”

he held it up, and you, dean, and neville all looked over.

“that’s a tampon, finnigan. i use it when i’m on my period so the blood doesn’t leak out.”

he took a beat of silence as he connected the dots, and his eyes seemed to widen even more,

“and... you have to put this where exactly?”

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville x reader #neville longbottom smut #dean thomas #dean x reader #dean thomas imagine #dean thomas smut #seamus finnigan #seamus finnigan imagine #seamus x reader #seamus finnigan smut

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conscious-love · 3 years

Text

Why Holding On To Past Relationships Is The Worst Thing You Can Do For Yourself, Period

by Daniel Dowling via MindBodyGreen

Three years ago I was a 24-year-old failure-to-launch who lived on his mom’s couch and shared a bathroom with two teenage sisters. My friends had their own houses, degrees, and independence. And there I was, broke and depressed, totally reliant on my parents. It hadn't ever not been that way.

But in 2014 I made one small decision, which led to results I still sometimes can’t believe.

Today, I’m leading writers in a national campaign to rebrand my hometown, and I write for the best entrepreneurial and self-improvement sites in the world (mbg being my favorite; no lie). I make a great living coaching others to become the happiest and most successful versions of themselves. That’s a lot of change in just three years, from any perspective. And I can trace the transformation of my life back to one single thing: letting go of my exes—completely.

Breaking free from serial monogamy.

For most of my adult life I’d been a serial monogamist. I thought I just really loved love, but it turns out I was just really, really afraid of responsibility. So, for my personal dissatisfaction and unhappiness, self-improvement wasn’t the cure—it was a new girlfriend! And when that one didn’t work out, I'd find another. Yay for love!

Except it wasn’t love because I wasn’t becoming the best version of myself through these relationships. So after the last one ended ignominiously, I quit the love game—just not quite all the way.

I still kept in contact with my exes. And Jen—my former fiancee—was a particular crutch. We still visited each other even though we lived in different states. We kept in regular contact through texts and phone calls, especially during crises. I was still depending on her to make me happy.

Every time we talked, I renewed the connection to my former ways of thinking and behaving. It strengthened the conviction that, deep down, I could only be happy with Jen. She was my way out. If things got too tough, I could always come to her, and she could come to me. We even promised that if we weren’t married by 30, we’d get hitched. Talk about a safety net… (and, yes, also the plot of My Best Friend's Wedding).

Unfortunately, that safety net was keeping me from being the bold, successful, independent man I wanted to become. I just couldn’t seem to cut the cord on my own.

Flying without a net.

Then one day I was listening to an audio course from my favorite self-improvement mentor, Zig Ziglar. He was talking about how to right our wrongs and forgive ourselves. He advised writing apologies down and sending them to the appropriate people. But he had a special step for exes.

"When it comes to the forgiveness you want from your exes [Zig has a drawling Southern accent], I want you to follow all the steps I just gave you. But instead of sending off the letter, I want you to fold it up, light a fire, and burn the damn thing. Cuz there’s no point in renewing emotional connections with people who aren’t good for you. That’s why they're your exes! It’s time to move on from them and fully embrace your own life."

When one is slapped by truth, one’s jaw has a tendency of dropping, and the eyes have a tendency to glaze over, lost in a thousand-yard stare. That was the picture of my face. Might’ve even drooled a little.

I thought about Jen, and Em, and Katie. I thought about how important they’d been for me and how much security they’d brought me. And I knew I had to let them go for good. For good.

No more texts or calls. No more being Facebook friends. No email updates. No nothing.

I had anxiety about the decision, naturally—severing ties with my past and obliterating a huge comfort zone. But I had a future to step into. I had to do that on my own.

Dealing with the emptiness.

I missed my former girlfriends like crazy. But instead of feeling sorry for myself and longing for them, I prayed for them. I asked God for the same things I was asking for my own self-improvement journey—courage, faith, hope, positivity, inspiration, grace, and so on. I prayed for them to meet amazing and inspiring friends who could help them become their best selves. I prayed for my future wife. And I prayed that I would become the fully independent man capable of supporting her.

In all this praying, I completely changed my focus. Instead of relying on my girlfriends for faith and reassurance, I relied on God and my own ability to handle my problems. I took back the misplaced faith in my girlfriends and put it squarely in my own hands.

That’s when I finally launched.

Do you believe in life after love?

Just like Cher, I found my power only after letting go of my past relationships.

Without my exes as safety nets, it was just me. Nobody else was going to make me happy. So I did what I needed to do to make me successful—all the writing, studying, practicing, pitching, researching, and self-improvement. I actually become part of a community and made new friends. I fully embraced my own damn life.

Three months passed and I still missed my exes. But I was making money through my writing and making new connections.

Six months passed and I still missed my exes. But I’d started earning a full-time living through my writing. And I was growing more confident by the day, especially in my community.

A year passed and I still missed my exes. But I was fully independent through my passion. And I’d outgrown the anxiety and depression that had haunted me since I was a teenager—a by-product of my newfound faith in me.

It’s been three full years since I cut out my exes. I’m 100 percent over each one, but I’m human—I still miss them! Who wouldn’t? They were brilliant and beautiful women who were insanely fun to be with. I made thousands of joyful memories with each one.

Sometimes I’m reminded of them by hearing a certain song or watching a movie. But that’s just another opportunity for me to thank God for them and to pray for them. It’s another opportunity for me to be the independent and faithful man I know I can be for myself, for my wife, for my clients, and for my audience. It’s another opportunity to find security in myself and in a higher power. And through these opportunities, I’ve found the happiness and fulfillment I always wanted.

I advise all of my clients to go on a yearlong relationship fast, which most of them do. But the real growth comes when they fully let go of their exes and stop using them as crutches. It’s hard, hard, hard to do but absolutely essential if you want to grow.

Here are five tips to help you let go of your exes for good:

1. Start a self-improvement routine, complete with daily, weekly, and monthly goal setting.

Read this article as a primer.

2. Meet with someone weekly to discuss your personal growth and your journey.

This person will help keep you accountable to your goals and lifestyle choices. Can be a friend or an amazing coach.

3. Stay single for a year—totally single.

If you can’t be happy with you, you won’t be happy—truly happy—with anyone else. Love that you! Commit to being successfully single for a year. That means happy, connected in your community, fulfilled in your work, and in a state of continuous personal growth. (Your daily routines and long-term goals will be critical to this step.)

4. Surround yourself with positive, uplifting people.

Join a faith community where people strive to live out the values you identify with. This is where you’ll find the deep connections that you can grow with—and that will prevent you from leaning on your exes as crutches.

5. Pray or meditate often.

Use your emotions as mindfulness cues. When you miss someone, pray for them. When you’re lonely, pray for the courage, positivity, and fortitude to make good decisions. When you think you can’t go on—that happens to everyone—pray for what you need. This will help you grow faith in a higher power and yourself, which is an absolute must if you want to be happy alone.

And being happy alone? That’s an absolute must for loving someone unconditionally in a relationship that can last a lifetime.

Link to article on Mind Body Green

Author: Daniel Dowling

#Daniel Dowling #mindbodygreen #article #relationship #love #breakup #heartbreak #moving on #strength #recovery #healing #self respect #personal development #quotes

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labarch · 3 years

Text

Attempt at a Witch Hat Atelier timeline

We are still missing a lot of backstory for our main cast, but I thought I’d try and write a timeline based on what we know so far, and explore where their storylines might intersect.

I am pulling these numbers out of my hat for convenience sake, but here are some approximate ages for the characters: at the start of the manga, let’s say Coco, Tetia and Agott are all 12, Riche is 11, and Qifrey and Olruggio are 28.

20-23 years ago: Olruggio leaves his birth town Godley and moves to the Great Hall, maybe as young as 5 years old.

While many witches are born in the Great Hall, Olruggio comes from a town called Godley in the North. Yet he doesn’t remember Utowin, who came from the same place. We know that young witches usually start their training between the age of 7 and 10, but since witch society is awfully elitist, Olruggio would have been sent there as soon as his talent for magic became apparent.

Being ripped from his home at an extremely young age could explain his fear of being unwanted and left behind: he overworks himself as a way to feel useful and validated, is defensive about his own feelings, and he gets agitated and sometimes aggressive whenever Qifrey hides things from him.

20 years ago: arrival of Qifrey at the Great Hall at age 8. Olruggio befriends him soon afterwards. The both of them start sneaking out at night to chase Brimhats.

8 year old Qifrey was one fierce little thing, you have to give him that. His abuse at the hands of the Brimhats was brutal enough to break a grown man, but he picks himself up and goes right after them like “Alright jerks, you’ve got some explaining to do and I want my eyeball back!”.

Also it cracks me up that Olruggio was carrying this massive book in their flashback. Gotta love that his reaction to Qifrey’s “Let’s go chase some terrorists!” was “Sure, let me just pack my homework =>”.

Finally, there might be a slightly more selfish motivation for Olruggio’s fast friendship and devotion to Qifrey. Olruggio’s self-esteem lies in his ability to help people, so he would naturally be drawn to someone helpless. It’s unclear how much of Qifrey’s memory was missing: apparently he didn’t know about birthdays. How many other basic concepts was he missing? Did he know how to read? Between that, his lack of knowledge about magic and his injury, he was probably completely dependent on Olruggio at the beginning. Given Olruggio’s wish that they go back to “the good old times” when they were always together, I am wondering whether some hidden part of him misses being essential to someone. It’s well-intentioned, but not entirely healthy, especially if he is using Qifrey as a coping mechanism for his own insecurities.

14 years ago: Olruggio and Qifrey make a pledge of (betrothal) friendship, exchange tassels and attempt the Librarian test at age 14. It is their last adventure together, but Qifrey will continue his investigations on his own, to Olruggio’s disappointment and betrayal. Qifrey starts wearing his half-tinted glasses.

In the pledge flashback, they are wearing their old tassels, but they have swapped them by the time they undertake the third test. Also, when he remembers that pledge, Olruggio says that Qifrey’s investigation “should have ended at the Tower of Books”. The tower is the last likely place where Qifrey could have found answers about his past and a non-forbidden way of getting his eye back. Olruggio probably made him promise that he would stop his search afterwards.

Beldaruit says that he thought Qifrey had given up on his search after the third test, but Olruggio tells a slightly different story. Apparently he thought Qifrey “finally stopped causing trouble” after taking in apprentices, which means he was still behaving suspiciously right up until he became a teacher. Alaira also comments on Qifrey’s interest in the Brimhats in the first volume, so clearly his investigations were common knowledge among his friends, even as an adult.

Olruggio’s anger whenever the Brimhats are mentioned would then be caused not just by his own fear of forbidden magic, but by the reminder that Qifrey broke his promise to him, and refused to leave his past behind. Naturally, Olruggio doesn’t know about Qifrey’s change in circumstances: he is no longer looking to retrieve what he lost, but trying to stop an impending threat.

Qifrey’s discoveries in the Tower of Books also seem to have renewed his disgust towards his own scar: he starts wearing glasses shortly afterwards, even though his eyesight hasn’t yet started deteriorating.

14-5 years ago: in that interval, Coco’s father dies of illness. Olruggio becomes more and more famous for his magical items, and is given the title “Shining Torch” / “Master of Lights”. His glowstone paths become widely popular, and are installed around the castle near Coco’s mom. Both Qifrey and Olruggio pass the fourth test and complete their training.

At this stage, I really doubt that Qifrey intended to become a teacher. Whatever information he found at the Tower of Books convinced him he had to stop the Brimhats’ plan. He was probably planning to complete his training and then go straight on to his quest, not really expecting to return alive.

There are also hints that this was a strained period for Qifrey and Olruggio: Olruggio mentions that he would like them to confide in each other “just like old times”, which implies that they grew more distant after the Librarian test. I’m suspecting that Qifrey was trying to slowly remove himself from Olruggio’s life, hoping Olruggio would be so famous and beloved by the time they graduated that he would forget about Qifrey and barely notice his disappearance. Qifrey’s self-esteem isn’t the best y’all.

5 years ago: Coco receives the magic picture book from Iguin at age 7 at the Silver Night Festival. The Brimhats stop showing signs of activity. Qifrey takes on his first apprentice (probably Tetia, age 7). He interrupts his investigation of the Brimhats and creates the atelier. Olruggio becomes his Watchful Eye.

We don’t know exactly how old Coco was when she got her book, but her tiny chubby face makes me think she was 6-7. Alaira also tells us in the first volume that the incident with Coco’s mother is the first sign of Brimhat activity in five years. I am thinking that after Iguin gave away the book, he instructed the other Brimhats to keep a low profile until his scheme could hatch.

I also wonder whether Coco getting her book might coincide with Qifrey becoming a teacher and creating his atelier. Given that Qifrey is probably tied to Iguin’s schemes, how coincidental is it that Qifrey wandered into Coco’s village and set her fate in motion? Perhaps Iguin contrived for them to live in the same area so that they would meet eventually. Either he somehow influenced Qifrey’s choice of location for his atelier, or he selected Coco as his “child of hope” because of her relative proximity as well as her love for magic.

7 years old is when we could expect Tetia to have passed the first test. For now we know little about her backstory, but we can guess a few things: she is enthusiastic and ambitious, but gets easily side-tracked by pet projects and struggles to stick to the curriculum. She craves positive feedback and is worried her spells and interests will be condemned as frivolous. It makes me think that she passed her first test early, but was then mistreated by her first teachers for being too childish.

We’ve seen that Qifrey has a compulsive tendency to adopt children in distress. It would fit his character if he became a teacher on impulse. Maybe he had to pass the fifth test in a rush to be allowed to keep Tetia by his side. This also brought Olruggio back into his life, as he was the only one willing to follow him away from the atelier as Watchful Eye.

The complicity between Tetia and Qifrey, and Tetia taking on the role of a big sister for both Riche and Coco, also make me think she was Qifrey’s first apprentice. Tetia is often shown teasing Qifrey, quoting both Qifrey and Olruggio, and imitating Qifrey’s teaching style: I can totally see them as a little family of three at some point in the past.

4 years ago: Riche starts training under her brother’s master, a creepy asshole, at age 7.

We actually have a clear timestamp for that one in chapter 25, woohoo! Riche’s old teacher can eat a brick.

3-2 years ago: Qifrey and Olruggio learn about Riche’s mistreatment in her old atelier and promptly adopt her. Beldaruit takes on Ririfin as an apprentice. Qifrey’s eyesight starts deteriorating. He adds the light protection glyph to his glasses.

Before that time, Qifrey might have intended to put his quest on hold until after Tetia’s graduation, but now his impending blindness puts him on a time limit. He can’t do a lot about it however, since the Brimhats have been keeping a low profile for years and are not leaving him any clue.

It’s unclear how long Riche stayed at her old atelier, and whether she joined Qifrey before or after Agott. I’m hoping she made it out as soon as possible.

2 years ago: Agott passes the first test at age 10. She gets accused of stealing someone else’s spell, is rejected from her prestigious family’s apprenticeship, and joins Qifrey’s atelier.

Agott has been treated harshly by her family for not being enough of a genius. She mentions passing the first test at 10, the upper end of the normal age range. She was probably given a hard time for starting her apprenticeship so “late”, which explains why she is now adamant about passing the other tests as quickly as possible.

I wonder whether she felt ambivalent about joining Qifrey’s atelier at first. On the one hand, Qifrey was taught by the Sage of Education himself and is clearly very powerful. On the other hand, he has only a couple students and lives in a weird little school in the middle of nowhere, a big fall from grace compared to her prestigious upbringing. I wonder whether Qifrey went to find her after he heard she was the object of nasty rumours (he knows a thing or two about those), and Agott didn’t feel like she had other options.

0 year ago: Coco and Qifrey meet. Iguin goes “F***ing finally, I thought I’d have to watch that humdrum one-eyed twink bake potatoes for another five years. It’s dragon-slaying time now baby!!!”

#witch hat atelier #witch hat meta #qifrey #olruggio #tbna #coco #riche #agott #everyone has a horrible time at the Great Hall: a wha timeline #Olruggio the wonder child arriving at the Great Hall at age 5 wrapped in an anxiety blanket and clinging to a plush toy #protect him #no mention of treefrey this time what are the odds

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