nothing holding me back // sweet pea imagine 🥀🐍

request: Hi! Could you do a sweet pea imagine where the reader is a north sider and she tells pea that Reggie won’t stop flirting with her and the night of the fight (serpents vs bulldogs) he confronts Reggie about it?

I hope this is what you had in mind…sorta. There wasn’t really any confronting and talking, but I’m sure that’s how Sweet Pea handles things usually lol. 

A/N: I literally did not have any idea for the title, so please bear with me. Also, I know Ronnie stayed at home first, but I changed it up a little. Also, I LOVE REGGIE. I’m not painting him as the bad person here, just the cocky little shit he is. 

Title: nothing holding me back

Summary: You tell Sweet Pea some jock has been hitting on you and he seemingly takes it well. 

“Pea, I beg you not to freak out.“

You could feel the rage and jealousy radiating off of him as his eyes went dark, and his mouth turned into a straight line as he looked ahead of him, staring at his chocolate milkshake. You put your small hands on his lap in hope it would soothe the raven-haired boy sitting next to you.
He craned his neck towards you, his eyes hard.

“So you’re telling me that some stupid Northside boy has been flirting with you non stop and you didn’t tell me until now?!“ he spat, venom lacing his every word, his eyes looking at you accusingly. You let out a frustrated sigh, not liking the way he was pinning everything on you like you actually enjoyed the attention of the Bulldog.

“Reggie is just… stupid. He is messing around – he doesn’t actually like me. Flirting is his form of communication, really.“ You removed your hand from his lap and gripped your strawberry milkshake, sucking at the straw forcefully and awaiting his reaction. 

He sneered and from the corner of your eye, you could see his fists were balled on the table. You rolled your eyes. He had always been dramatic. He was ill-tempered and infuriated, not knowing how he should handle the feeling of another boy setting sights on his girl, on you, as if you could not protect yourself from the wrath of horny, teenage boys.
“So, you’re saying I should just accept some jock flirting with my girl while I’m not there?“ he seethed, looking you in the eyes. You rose your eyebrow as you crossed your legs and arms.

“I’m saying“, you emphasized, „that there is no need for you to worry. I have my eyes set on you, snake. I just wanted to tell you because I felt bad if I didn’t. Also, I have Reggie under control. Like you said, he’s just some jock. He might be handsome“, he narrowed his eyes at you, his jaw tightened, “but I prefer leather jackets.“ You smirked slightly as you scooted closer to him and leaned against his broad shoulder which seemed to relax instantly at your gentle touch. He wrapped his left arm around you, hugging you close as if he was scared you’d vanish. You smiled at this moment of bliss the two of you shared at Pop’s, blending out the voices and the noise around you. 

“Baby, I gotta go somewhere. I’ll be at your house at 11?“ You sighed in defeat, not wanting to let him go and not wanting to know what mess he would get himself into now. You scooted out of the booth, holding his hand as he loomed over your small frame. A boyish smirk crossed over his features as he said, “Don’t worry about me, baby. Get that frown out of your face.” He put one hand on the left side of your face and the other small of your back, holding you. He brushed one lock of your brown hair out of your face that had been annoying you all evening. He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, sending shivers down your spine before he found his way to your mouth, strawberry and chocolate mixing, becoming one. You pulled away breathlessly and scanned his face.
“Come back to me in one piece, got it?”


As soon as you had gotten home, you ran yourself a bath and lit up some scented candles. You stripped your clothes off and stepped into the bath. The hot water relaxed your muscles instantly and you could let go of all the worries that had been plaguing your mind all day.
You took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of apples lingering in the air until you dove down.
The ringing of your phone cut through the air. You let out an annoyed huff and grabbed your phone. Ronnie was written over the screen. Confused, you accepted the call, wondering why she was calling this late. 

„Whaddup, girl?“
„Your serpent boyfriend turned up. Serpents vs. Bulldogs. I’ll text you the directions, I know where they went. Archie wanted me to stay home but apparently, he doesn’t know me very well. Come now!“ The Lodge girl hung up, leaving you in a state of anxiety as you quickly got out of the bath and blew out the candles. 

You bolted into your room, putting on some fresh clothes as you grabbed the coat sprawled across your bed, checking if your car keys were still in the pockets. You took one glance in the mirror, putting your wet hair into a ponytail as you rushed out of your house, hoping not to wake your parents.
The fresh, cold air hit you as you marched towards your black car, small raindrops hitting you. You looked up at the cloudy night sky, hoping it wasn’t going to pour later.
You quickly turned on the engine and took off, the loud screech of tires cutting through the sleeping neighborhood.
You kept cursing at Sweet Pea at Archie and it suddenly dawned on you that Reggie was most likely going to be there too. You shut your eyes, trying to calm your nerves, hoping hell wasn’t breaking loose. You gripped the steering wheel tighter, hoping it would somehow make your car go faster. As you drove, the rain started to get heavier.

From afar, you started spotting cars and an array of motorcycles parked. You swerved to the side and quickly cut the engine off. The fight hadn’t started just yet. No words were being exchanged, just angry, despiteful glances.
The tension that had been built between the Serpents and the Bulldogs could be cut with a knife. You spotted Veronica, marching towards her.
What the fuck is going on here, Ronnie?” you screeched, darting your eyes to the crowd as you finally spotted your boyfriend amongst them. He didn’t seem to have noticed you, no one had as they were too preoccupied glaring each other to death.
“As I’ve told you over the phone, your boyfriend came to Archie’s house. Basically, all these boys must prove who’s the strongest. It’s foolish, but he wasn’t going to leave. So, I made one rule: no weapons,” she explained, her tone somewhat accusingly. 

Besides Jughead and Cheryl, Veronica had been the first one to know about your relationship with the tall, brooding serpent. Obviously, she hadn’t been exhilarated, constantly reminding you he was a gang member after all as if you didn’t know already.
But she was your best friend and she had to accept your decision, even if this meant lying to her boyfriend and the rest of your friends for now.
“So we’re just going to let them fight? That seems like a stupid idea to me, Ronnie. No offense.”

“None taken. Maybe you should keep your snake on a leash”, she remarked snidely, her deep brown eyes challenging you as she crossed her arms over her chest. You scoffed and shook your head, saying, “I’m not here to discuss my relationship with you, Ronnie.” You stalked towards the boys, the heavy rain pouring on you. Sweet Pea looked up, squinting his eyes at you until recognition dawned on his face. You stood in between the two groups, your hands resting on both sides of your hips.
“What are you doing here, babe?” he asked, jaw still tight and trying to keep his voice void of any emotion, not wanting to show any weakness in front of the others. You gritted your teeth, opening your mouth to say something, but were cut off by Archie and Reggie.

Babe?!” they exclaimed incredulously, Archie’s voice laced with anger and disappointment, while Reggie seemed more than amused. You turned around to look at the boys, shaking your head at Reggie as a troubling smirk crossed his face. He crossed his arms over his chest and took a step towards you.
“So this is why we haven’t made out yet, really?” Your eyes widened at his remark, wanting nothing more than to slap the grin out of his face. You heard a low growl behind you, craning your neck you saw the look of anger passing on Sweet Pea’s face. You turned to reach out to him, but he pushed past you.
“So you’re the infamous Reggie that can’t keep his hands off my girl?” he seethed through gritted teeth, looking the Bulldog up and down. 

You swallowed, fiddling with the ring on your finger. You took another step forward, putting a hand on Sweet Pea’s shoulder, hoping he would simmer down. Archie looked at the two of them, realizing the situation might even get messier than it already was. He looked over at Reggie, telling him to shut up.
“Oh, so she talks about me a lot? Probably thinks about me too at night then, huh?
It happened fast. Within a few seconds, Sweet Pea had punched Reggie square across the jaw, signaling the fight had officially begun.
You heard Veronica calling your name distinctly and you ran to her into the safe zone, not knowing what to do. You closed your eyes, trying to fade out the sickening sounds of fists hitting jaws, legs kicking stomachs and people groaning in pain. You could hear Sweet Pea screaming threats at Reggie, not being able to make out what they were as you a gunshot rang through the silent air of the rainy night. 

You winced at the loud noise and turned to see Veronica her holding a gun high up in the air, stopping the war immediately. You gave her a thankful look, nodding at her and making your way towards your car. You sat in the driver’s seat, punching the steering wheel furiously, several curse words escaping your mouths. Your hands went to your hair and gripped it tightly. This is exactly what you had signed up for, entering this star-crossed relationship. Sweet Pea had warned you about how violent things could get, wanting you to understand what you would get yourself into. He was also quick to make sure you knew he wasn’t going to leave the Serpents because of you.  
You started the engine and drove off into the night.


You knew it was only a matter of time until Sweet Pea would be climbing through your window. You had already rummaged through your messy bathroom cabinet, having found a disinfectant, some plasters, and band-aids, ready to nurse him. A pack of ice was sitting on your night-stand, waiting to be used. You had been pacing around your room for a good twenty minutes now, checking your phone constantly and calling Sweet Pea, only for him not to pick up. 

You could hear a loud engine roar and a harsh clash of gears until the sound faded into silence. As Sweet Pea made his way through your window and stood in front of you, your eyes quickly went to scan his face and spotted the bruise that adorned his left eye. You sighed in relief, happy it was just a bruise. His face was void of any expression, probably waiting for you to scold him, scream at him and tell him how stupid the fight had been. Right now, however, you were tired and couldn’t find the nerve to put up a fight now. You just were happy he was here, with you. 

You wrapped your hands around his waist, burying your head into his chest, inhaling the smell of his cologne and the distinct smell of rain. He embraced you.
“I know this is what you do”, you mumbled lowly, “doesn’t mean I like it.” A low chuckle erupted from his chest, causing you to roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. You looked up at him.
“I know you don’t. But that’s me. That’s the cost of being with a serpent, princess.”
“I know. It’s just… complicated. Archie’s been my friend since I was in diapers. And you hate each other. It’s just… hard. It sucks so much. Everything sucks.” He let out a scoff as you mentioned the Andrews boy, not liking that you two were close and saw each other every day.
You slowly removed your arms from his frame, motioning for him to sit on your bed. You went over to your nightstand and grabbed the pack of ice, accidentally knocking over the picture of you and Cheryl the both of you had taken after cheer-practice a few months ago.

Sweet Pea gave you half smile. “We literally could not be any more different,“ he said, motioning to the picture of you and the red-haired beauty,“ but that, baby, keeps things exciting.” You threw the ice pack at him and he caught it with ease. He put it on his eye and winced at the pain. 

“You’ll have to meet Cheryl anyways. She’s been insisting on it. And she’s slowly starting to scare me.” The fiery redhead had always been your most persistent friend. After all, she was Cheryl Blossom and got what she wanted when she wanted it. She wasn’t thrilled, just like Veronica. She had mocked you, telling you he probably wasn’t good enough for her favorite River vixen anyways. She had even dismissed you with a wave when you told her that you thought you loved him. 

You knew it was Cheryl’s twisted way of protecting you from getting hurt. That day in the locker room, you had told Cheryl to back off, resulting in her smiling at you with her bright, red lips and saying she loved the recently found fire in you and wanting to meet the “Southside Romeo” that stole your heart. Her words, not yours. 

He sneered at you, “I think I’ve had enough of your Northsider friends for today, babe. Though, I have to admit it was amazing to beat up that jock.”
“Reggie is… Reggie. He had it coming, even though I don’t appreciate you handling this in a violent way. You could just.. talk next time,” you explained, sitting on your bed and grabbing one of your floral patterned pillows. He just rose his eyebrow at your request, slowly shaking his head and shrugging.
“I think I got my point across, sweetheart.” You playfully rolled your eyes at him, hurling the cushion at him. 

You crawled over to him, seating yourself on his sprawled out legs, removing the ice pack from his hand. He leaned back against your headboard, finding a comfortable position. You gazed into his deep eyes, leaning forward and tangling your small hands in his tousled, black hair. His hands cupped your face, holding you in place as his fingertips gently rubbed over your delicate skin, longing to touch you. He let out a content sigh, letting his eyes wander over your face to your body, treasuring the moment with you. Sweet Pea had never told you he loved you, but the way he treasured every moment with you, caressing you, and kissing you like your lives depended on it, he didn’t have to. 

“Kiss me,” you said softly, starting to lean in. And he did, without hesitation. His soft lips covered yours, devouring your mouth, a flock of butterflies erupting in your stomach. His kisses were like no others you had experienced before. Now, that you had tasted him, you didn’t know if you could ever stop yearning for him.
His hands were discovering your body, getting lost in it. You arched your back, enjoying the closeness between your bodies. His lips brushed against your collarbone, leaving you breathless as he slowly started tracing kisses up your neck.

“Toxic” by Britney Spears rang through the air. You let out a defeated sigh as you moved over to your nightstand to pick up your phone. Sweet Pea rolled his eyes as he saw the contact name popping up on the bright screen. You picked it up, bracing yourself for the worst.
“You. Me. That toy boy of yours. Tomorrow. Sweet dreams, little dove.”

OTP Prompt 99

Person A: Are you.. blushing?

Person B: What, no.

Person A: Did I get the ever-stoic, hardcore, total badass Person B to blush?

Person B: No… It’s… It’s the cold.

Person A: Huh. It’s the cold. And not that I told you “your face is freaking adorable and I bet the rest of you is too?”

Person B: *blushing harder* *voice cracks* N-no.

Seeing Blind (Stiles Stilinski soulmate imagine)

Summary: As decreed by the universe, before meeting your soulmate your world is black and white. It’s not until you meet them and begin to share experiences with them that you gain different colours. For you, Stiles Stilinski is the one to light up your world.

Warnings: NSFW! There’s a section of smut (it’s very fluffy). Swearing. Fluff? I feel like I should flag fluff because I was feeling so soft and gentle when I wrote this that the sweetness might actually kill you…

Word count: 11.2k (I’m taking y’all on a journey lmao)

A/N: This has taken me so, so long to write. Please don’t let it flop! I have to say that it’s one of my favourite things that I’ve ever written…

This is for @lovefilledtragedy ‘s writing challenge! I decided to base it (loosely) on the song Seeing Blind by Niall Horan. The song is so, so lovely and I 10/10 recommend listening to it as you read :)

Big thanks to @penelope-clearwaters for helping me w the problematic sections of the plot. I couldn’t have done it without your help, bitch. (Hope the sex lives up to your expectations. There’s so much fluff I almost choked to death when I wrote it)

Pls read! You won’t regret it (I hope lmao)…feedback would be LOVED.

Originally posted by weirduniverse


The world had been painted in shades of black and white for as long as you’d known it.

It wasn’t as depressing as it sounded. The crippling depths of black mixed with heavenly tones of whites to form the soft glow of grey. There were a surprising number of shades you could see with only two colours, and when all you’d known was black and white, there wasn’t much to complain about. You didn’t know any better, so why would you miss something you’d never experienced?

Since the dawn of time, the universe had decided that the only way you’d gather the full spectrum of colours would be to meet your soulmate. Once you met them, you’d begin to gain colours. Orange when you first met them, every other as time passed. Each was tied to a specific emotion. In order for you to see pink, you’d have to share something intimate with them; red, you’d have to fall in love. It was a very simple concept, but one that had caused you much grief over the years.

At age twenty, you’d yet to find your soulmate. By this point, you’d began to give up. There was no way to force the universe to hand over your soulmate, and despite almost all people eventually finding them, you were terrified that you’d turn into one of the horror stories; you’d meet them when you were on your deathbed, or you’d meet them but then be immediately separated from them.

“Y/N, you’re brooding again.” At the words of your best friend you startled, the mug held between your hands dipping in the air.

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Of Engine Oil, Tears and Happiness

”No, it’s an actual tear, but it shouldn’t be…”

Gentle, sometimes violent, but always trying to get to the heart of things, there is an emotional pull to the episodes of series 10. It’s found in Bill’s openness, as her emotions and thoughts spill across her face, her words, her imagination. Rarely has there even been a companion so vibrantly, uncompromisingly and genuinely herself, in every way, no matter what happens.

But it also carries us through story about story, calling for empathy and understanding. It’s getting true the true nature of robots and wishes. It’s believing the best of those held in chains and recognising true monsters. It’s realising the truth about a scary house and about a family. It’s about knowing yourself, holding on to who you are even as falsehoods claw at your mind. It’s about finding your fate, even if it’s portals to other worlds or far away from home on Mars. It’s trusting that even evil is capable of goodness, as long as she wants to.

There’ is beauty in reaching out, even when it is scary. Even when the world has been broken and twisted beyond recognition. There is kindness in everyone. There is hope in tears. And that is why Heather’s story could never end with only a mournful goodbye.

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anonymous asked:

I hate how this fandom makes Credence the Epitome Of Soft Boy(tm),, like give me snarky Credence that glares at Newt silently with this look that just screams "are you freaking kidding me" everytime he risks his life doing something stupid, give me a Credence that has a witty comeback for literally everything, give me a Credence that gets so bored of people spouting bullshit that he will walk away in the middle of them talking to play with the niffler,, where is he, where has this fandom hid him

WHERE IS HE he has been hidden by a Credence who apparently never got to the point of “I don’t think I want to Mister Graves” and only stammers quietly and breaks into tears whenever someone looks at him because he does cry when terrified and angry and falling apart and therefore he is a Soft Stuttering Weepyboy at all times. Sure his face twisted horribly as he broke down but everything is beautiful tears and sad faces and pastel. Sure he often went completely blankface and you could just SEE the “It’s Dissociation Time.” SURE he decided “fuck this and fuck you” and lashed at everyone who hurt him and those he cared about and he told his manipulator to shove it (via a screaming mass of dark magic rage) but we’re gonna make him this almost childlike helpless Soft Boi it’s not like forced helplessness and treating him like a child were tactics his abusers used or anything 🙃🙃🙃

Over-sexualising things.

A rampant problem nowadays is ppl over-sexualising the opposite gender which causes unhealthy friction and problems for no reason.

A girl asks you for directions to the lecture hall and suddenly you get so freaked out as if she’s gonna steal your heart and you think she’s moving to you.

A guy holds the door open for you and that somehow means he’s onto you.

Grow up.

Okay so this just happened… I honestly don’t know what to say! I’ve gained like 100 followers over the last couple of days I’m shook!

Thank you to everyone who chills out on my blog and reads the dribble that I have the audacity to call fanfiction… you’re all queens and I love you so freaking much!

Especially thanks to @hufflepuff-and-feminist @allthingsbughead for being there almost from the start, I love you two so damn much❤️

Originally posted by riverdalecolesprouse

anonymous asked:

2 & 11 for Ivar, please and thank you :) - Oddsnendsfanfics :)

2. “I want to punch you in the face.” &  11. “I want a divorce.” @oddsnendsfanfics (Modern!Ivar AU) sorry, I wrote it in Alex first and then realized you chose Ivar so I had to change it

You flew to Kattegat City to surprise Ivar. You hadn’t seen him in 7 months and it was long overdue. Your work finally slowed down so you could take a much needed vacation. Two weeks you asked for. Two weeks that you’d be with your husband. You missed him. 

You stopped at one of the local breakfast shops that Ivar always raved about. Picking up two coffees and two bagels and a muffin for yourself, you walked to where Ivar was staying. It was his home away from home. Ivar always kept his place tidy. You called him a neat freak a time or two because of how meticulous he was with where things went or how things were supposed to look. 

As you unlocked the door and stepped inside, you placed the coffee and breakfast on the counter. You stopped mid-step as you heard a moan coming from the bedroom. You waited until you heard it again, the voice clearly a female. You weighed your options as you stood in the kitchen. You could either confront him now or silently slip out and avoid him. 

You had made up your mind that you were going to avoid him when you heard the unmistakable sound of his voice growling out “fuck, fuck, fuck” in pleasure. You felt the tears sting your eyes as you gripped the doorknob. You had to see for yourself. You had to make sure that he couldn’t come back and claim otherwise. 

You made your way to the bedroom, the door slightly ajar. The moaning increased in volume as you stepped closer. Ivar grunting out loud. You burst through the door, screaming “I want a divorce!” only to be met with a wide-eyed Ivar sitting on the bed, his hand wrapped around his thick length, stroking himself. 

You looked around the room, only to find that Ivar was alone. You clutched at your chest, trying to calm yourself down. You look up to see the TV playing some porn video, the female having a strange resemblance to you.

You looked back to Ivar, who continued to stroke himself, with a smirk on his face. “Ahh, little dove, did you think i was in here with another woman? You know it’s only you that I crave.” You watched his hand tug at himself. 

I want to punch you in the face.” You breathed out. “My gods, Ivar, I didn’t know what I was walking into.”

“Well it’s just me, thinking about you, so are you going to come over and give your husband a kiss.” He grinned at you. 

You ran to the bed, jumping into his open arms, his length momentarily forgotten as he pressed his lips to yours. “I’ve missed you, husband.” You whispered against his lips. 

“I’ve missed you more, wife. Now, get down there and take care of my needs, woman!” You winked at him as you slithered off his lap and made him come in your mouth. 

magic-from-the-ordinary  asked:

Can you do headcanons for courting Celebrimbor please?

Originally posted by arsuf

-Celebrimbor isn’t very good with his emotions so it might take a while before he realizes he likes you and a freaking eternity until he finally asks. But it’s honestly worth the wait. If you wait for anything in your life patiently, it better be Celebrimbor’s love and trust.

-When he’s finally in a courtship, he’s a freaking teddy bear, okay? He just loves so incredibly deeply. It’s so deep to his soul and core that it physically hurts to imagine you gone.

-He’s protective because he doesn’t want anything to happen to you, but if you tell him to back off because he’s doing too much, he will. He’s just a baby puppy that needs so much love.

-He’s a sinnamon roll, okay? He looks like he can kill you and will actually kill you. But not his s/o, he acts like a hardass but will definitely listen to you. He won’t argue worth a damn. He folds over like a house of cards.

-Celebrimbor will bring you flowers until he finds out what exactly you like to get. He’ll bring you stacks of paper to write, books to read, small token’s or medallions, jewelry, fabric to make clothes, whatever you like, he’s going to get it for you when he goes away on his travels. Everyone knows and thinks it’s quite funny, but they wouldn’t dare say anything or ask. 

-Gets angry when someone doesn’t take your place as his equal serious. If they don’t refer to you with an honorable title, he’ll be like, “Y/N? You feel as those she/he is on your level, do you?” it’s so condescending and his voice is so dangerous, just begging the person to do it again.

-God forbid someone insults you, he will jump right to your defense and make the person feel completely worthless. It’s not fun for anyone, well maybe him. He’s quite a savage. That individual is getting dragged.

-When you two get married, he makes your wedding rings and they’re sO BEAUTIFUL. Next to the Silmaril’s, the Nauglamir, the rings are the most beautiful things to be created. 

-He also lovessss to make you things. He values your opinion above all else. He doesn’t give a single fuck about what anyone else thinks. You’re the only one he truly values. 

Originally posted by uk-pandora

Connor Murphy x Reader Meeting the Parents Head Cannons

Requested by Anonymous: cAN I GET AAAAAAAA bONELESS CONNOR HEADCANON ABOUT HIS FIRST TIME MEETING TJE READER’S PARENTS???!?!?!! (is that meme still a thing lmao anyways I LVOE YOUR BLOG)

Okay, so I took this literally and not in a meme way? Sorry! But thank you, darling! Love you, too!

WC: 1,064

Warning: Swearing, Mention of Jared Kleinmen


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lance is a sad boy part 3

time for part 3 (the final part) and yes i am high again.

word count: 516

warnings: same as ch 1

ch 1 ch 2

Keith left it until the next morning. He figured he needed to give Lance some space but he hadn’t slept and he was incredibly worried. He finally gave up on sleep sometime in the morning and started to head in the direction of Lance’s door. As he turned a corner, he suddenly ran into something.

“Ah shit,” said Keith. He looked up and saw Lance. “Lance! I was just coming to look for you.”

“Uh… Yeah, I was actually coming to look for you, too. I was worried I freaked you out,” said Lance, chewing on his lip.

“You didn’t freak me out, Lance! I’m just worried. As I rightfully should be,” Keith said, crossing his arms. “Can we talk?” he asked.

Lance slowly nodded.

“Great, we can talk in my room. Follow me,” said Keith, turning around and walking back in the direction he’d just come from.

Keith glanced at Lance, walking beside him. Lance looked sort of… worried. Keith could understand why. But he had to talk to him. He had to help him.

They stepped inside Keith’s room after he opened the door. Keith went and took a seat on his bed, motioning for Lance to come sit beside him.

“Lance, I just want to help, okay? So please, show me your arms,” Keith said, urgently in need of the truth from the other boy.

Lance, wincing, slowly lifted up the sleeves covering one of his arms. Keith looked away, tears forming in his eyes. They were obviously and unmistakably self-harm. Old scars and new cuts littered his arms.

“Lance. Why do you do this? What can I do?” Keith questioned.

“I’m just kind of fucked up, I think. Maybe there’s something wrong with brain but I’m so sad all the time. There’s just a constant pit in my stomach and I want to die pretty much. I miss my family. So much. So desperately. But I’m sure they hardly miss me,” Lance looked down, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to form. “I’m hardly important on Voltron. I’m don’t have a ‘thing’ like the rest of you guys do. I’m just the idiot who messes up everything.”

Keith was shocked. Lance was so convincing with his big smiles and over-the-top flirting. But Keith still should have noticed, right? He felt sick to his stomach.

“Lance, I want you to listen to me. I’m so sorry you’re in pain. I’m sure we can do something, but we need to talk to the rest of the team.”

At seeing Lance’s panicked expression, Keith added, “okay, okay. We’ll talk about it.”

“But Lance. You are so incredibly important. You complete our team. You care so much about us, even if you act like you don’t sometimes. You look after us. And you are an incredible shot. Hell, I’ve never shot anywhere close to that accurate. I just… can’t believe that you feel like this,” Keith said, frowning.

“Keith I- I’m sorry. I just want this feeling to go away. So desperately,” Lance said.

“We’ll figure this out, Lance. We’ll figure this out together.”

Another gym session down, another army of foot fags begging to sniff my stinky gym socks… I can’t get my head around why you losers love the smell of my sweat so much, but I’m happy to share since 1.) I naturally sweaty loads and 2.) You little freaks PAY me for the honour! That’s the life. Getting paid for being ME.

So take your sniff like it’s your last breath and just sit there and think about how much you’re sending to your Lord and why I deserve so much 💪💪 After all, it’s your duty to make this musclegod bigger.

Skype: live:snservicesnw

the-jade-goblin  asked:

Ok I just read your post about the bullshit you had to experience in school because of your disability and honestly??? You're my freaking hero. You're a damn legend and the fact that you're still standing tall and proud after all that is just so inspiring and amazing I love you

Omg you’re sweet. Thanks so much. This post is going to turn into a PSA LOL

It’s funny because it still happens every damn day. Like I can always name at least one instance of someone being a prick to me over my disability, and all you can really do is make a decision.

Which is more important to you? You, or how they see you? I’m not asking people to like me. I’m asking them not to be giant fucking dicks. They don’t have to like me to help me, to show they have character. I’m asking them to have integrity, and when you put someone in that kind of situation, frame it like that for them? They will almost always either do the thing or give you a clear picture of them (which really helps you to keep your confidence).

Let me see if I can explain it in a way that makes sense.

Often when dealing with a physical impairment, particularly one that other people don’t notice, is that you will get bullshit. You often have to find ways of building yourself up, prevent yourself from internalize the bullshit. So there are usually two ways of doing this, either you learn how to effectively handle people and frustration and build mantras that sort of get you to remember that you are not lesser than anyone, or you get angry.

Anger is effective, and plenty of disabled people use it, but it backfires, because while it makes fighting easier, you very quickly build yourself into a kind of prison you can’t get out of.

So you have to learn how to turn every situation into a learning experience for them and you. you have to become a more effective communicator, you have to make up little quick fire speeches about your condition so that people can be managed. You have to learn how to ask for things, when to get forceful, when to get out the attitude. How to remind yourself that you are a person, and that your disability is also turning you into someone who is strong, independent, capable, communicative, knowledgeable. Your disability is giving you the tools you need to be an amazing person. And when you, this amazing person, confront an asshole, it’s important to keep that perspective.

They’re not stooping to your level to do you a favor. You’re on a level so high above them you’re asking them to climb, and that’s not something everyone can do. I mean they can’t help it if they’re just weak or stupid. A person could even say that these normal people are “handicapped”. Being a giant dick is easier.

Every time you hit a wall, every time someone bullies, mocks, or refuses to help you, you need to be able to remove yourself and flip the perspective. That asshole who told you you were lazy…they just showed you what kind of person they are. That person who made fun of you…their psychology is feeble. That bastard who thinks you need to be educated about your own condition, who has a list of things you should eat and exercises you should do to cure yourself…they’ve just handed you everything you need to tell them off.

Confidence isn’t hard so long as:

1. You know your condition inside and out (do your research about your body and be proactive.) if your condition is idiopathic (like mine) then know everything that you can about potential causes

2. You learn how to say no. Don’t say “if you don’t mind” or similar ways of avoiding questions. Don’t let them think they are allowed to control the conversation. Say simply and firmly “I would rather not talk about my condition to you Can you please just compensate in this way?” For example, I paid for a walking tour of Italy. I went. I told the tour guide that I have a visual impairment. It doesn’t need to be addressed except that you can’t just walk away without saying something. If you move the tour on, please be sure you still have me when you arrive at the next destination. She wanted me to tell her everything. I simply said “I spend a lot of my day explaining my condition to complete strangers who think they’re entitled to know about my body. I’d prefer not to talk about it in this kind of setting.” And she and the group immediately felt as if they were being the invasive assholes they were actually being. They apologized and no one asked me a single fucking thing about it for the next week, except to ask me if I needed help with anything. I was absolutely friendly and civil, and no one behaved toward me as if my bid for autonomy was offensive to them.

3. You learn how to think about yourself and your “disability”. Remember that you may have a few limitations, but what you gain from those, in terms of knowledge, integrity, character, are invaluable. So no matter how frustrating it is to not be able to do the things you want, keep thinking of this as a chance for you to be better. It’s not a test. There’s no one who is grading this, and sometimes you’ll fuck up. It’s a process. You have to see it that way. A lot of people will think that by saying this, I’m somehow giving thought tools like, how to trick yourself into believing you’re valid. No. You are valid, but your mind isn’t letting you believe it because your mind is being attacked from a million sides and is firing back with all the stress hormones you can imagine.

I agreed to be a test subject for a group of grad students. They were measuring the responses to stress of disabled people. Disabled people, on any given day, produce way more stress hormones than a normal person. Makes us more prone to secondary illness, fatigue, cancer, chronic pain (because it is cyclical and once started cannot be stopped. Stress hormones trigger it). In one of my posts I talked about how having a disability isn’t just the actual impairment, but also the other shit that comes with it like PTSD and stress management. When under that kind of stress chronically, it can be impossible to see yourself clearly. It can even lead to clinical depression. You need to find ways to convince yourself NOT OF LIES, but of the truth.

You are not lesser. You are different. This difference makes it difficult to deal with the world of the other people, but it makes you better at seeing facets they cannot. Find ways to convince yourself of that truth, and the stress will dissipate. It will be managed more effectively.

4. You know how to navigate. If you have a mobility issue, learn those elevators. If you have a difficulty with navigating, research and find the strategies that work for others. Should you have to learn clever ways to hack the world? No. But are you worse for learning them? No. When I was in college, I did a year abroad. My mom was fucking white knuckling her life right, because if I kept being independent, I’d either get hurt or I wouldn’t need her anymore. But like, when I got there, I realized they’d segregated the disabled people in dorms where they were like, clumped together. I had a few hall-mates who were blind. I mean one had only light/shadow, one had no eyes. I was partially sighted so I had a foot in each world.

Who do you think the fully blind kids wanted guiding them around school or shopping? It wasn’t a fully sighted person. It was me. Why? Because I knew exactly how to give auditory clues, how to lead them, how to get around. If I couldn’t see something, I’d ask for help, and they knew I could do that too. I learned a ton about my own thinking of my disability in that time. I was amazed by how capable they were with so much more extensive blindness. I learned that I was really throwing myself a pity party, not learning how to think. They taught me how to see past that stress and just build my strengths. How to feel no depression whatsoever about learning extra information to keep myself safe. I’d do it for them in a heartbeat, so why couldn’t I do it for me?

It was an emotional barricade. It prevented me from traveling and doing things because of fear. So I broke it down and rethought it and memorized those step counts, those elevator maps, those short cuts, those tricks. I just fucking did it. And I felt better about my capabilities than ever before.

5. You learn to feel comfortable defending yourself. I don’t mean necessarily physically (but that’s also a good idea). I mean verbally. You need to feel justified in speaking up. That can be the most difficult thing, because many people with chronic illness or disability feel a sense of shame or responsibility for their condition. You may have some measure of responsibility, but you’re not asking people to forgive you your sins. You’re asking them to not be giant dicks, remember? So you were driving the car that got in the crash that put you in that chair. So fucking what? That fact HAS NO BEARING upon how people should behave. I mean really. No matter how or why or what is “wrong” with your body, this doesn’t excuse people from being giant fucking dicks! This is about how they behave toward someone who is disabled whom they SONT KNOW! They don’t get to be an asshole. They don’t get to pass a value judgment on your body.

You are your only advocate. You’re the one who knows it best. You need to be able to call bullshit and stand up to bullies.

I told the story about the guy whose dog attacked my friend’s guide dog. And that even though he was a full grown man, and those people around us were strangers, I called them out. That was easy to do, because I was defending my friend, but you have to be willing to do that for your own disability too, like the time the guy got in my face and got physical with me over my guide dog.

Take a self defense class if only to learn how to scream and punch. Get your voice out. Practice that until you feel no more embarrassment. Then refine that voice to match your own self-advocacy.

Anyway, sorry that turned into a lecture! I didn’t mean it to, it’s just that I want people to feel confident being what they are.

Thanks for the shout out.

hey spideychelle fam, do you ever think about how within our fandom we have all collectively come up with like “canon” spideychelle facts even though in sm:hc MJ and Peter have, like, ZERO screen time???

what are your favorite “canon-but-not-actually-canon” things about spideychelle?