#hey guys depression is shit and i wish no one would experience it EVER. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Dazed and Confused (S1: 2/?)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild langage

Word Count: 2k

Part Summary: After Steve spends the night at Y/N Jonathan Byers accuses Y/N of getting too close to her best friend’s boyfriend

Masterlist

I wake up to a banging on my door. It sounds like an uncontrollable jackhammer.

“Y/N! Oh Princess Y/N!” My mom screeches on the other side. “Wake up! You have to pick up Dustin in thirty minutes!”

The last bit grabs my attention. My eyes fly open and I attempt to sit up but I’m pinned down. My head whips to the side and Steve is sound asleep next to me. His arm is draped across my stomach keeping me pinned. In a rush, I shove him off of me and fly out of bed. Steve wakes up abruptly and falls off the mattress onto the floor with a thud.

“Shit!” He blurts out.

“What was that?” My mom asks worriedly.

Wide-eyed, I stare down Steve who peers up at me from the floor.

“I’m just getting ready! I’ll be out in five!” I shout to my little brother.

Thankfully, I hear him patter off as he grumbles various curse words under his breath.

I must look like a crazy lady as I run around my room getting ready. My hair is going in a ponytail today because there’s no way I have time to style it. Steve moves about me, collecting his things. It’s Friday so that makes picking out an outfit rather easy. It’s game day, so cheer uniform. I start changing from my pajamas into my cheer uniform. I hop on one leg as I remove my shorts and rush to grab my skirt off my dresser. As I slip off my t-shirt and change into my vest, I check my appearance in the mirror on my dresser.

Behind me, Steve eyes me curiously. He appears in some sort of wide-eyed daze.

I whip my head around to check on him. “You okay?”

He hums absentmindedly. Then, he shakes his head repeatedly to snap how of it. “Yeah! Uh… it’s just… um… you…” he stammers, “uh…. Nevermind! I’ll see you in a little bit,” he says as he goes to climb out of my window.

“Okay? Catch ya later.” I laugh, wondering why he’s acting so odd.

He’s such a goofball. I wonder if it’s because I freaked him out when I woke him up. Oh well, he scared me last night so karma.

________________________________________

Once we arrive at school, Dustin runs off to join the boys who have all agreed to dress as the Ghostbusters for school. Since the Demogorgon incident, Dustin and I have grown closer. We live on the same block and being only children help.

Nancy isn’t at her locker when I arrive at my own, odd. What’s even weirder is Jonathan is waiting for me.

“Hey,” I greet him with a raised brow.

It’s not that I dislike Jonathan, we’re simply not close friends. Sure, we had a bonding experience last year but he and I are very different people.

“Hey,” he stuffs his hands into his back pockets nervously. “Have you… uh… have you seen Nancy?”

Interesting, Byers looking for Nancy. If this were any other day she would be here beside me and I wouldn’t be standing here with Jonathan but apparently, today isn’t going to be average.

“Nope, I haven’t. I was wondering where she is myself. Usually, she’d be here by now,” I fill him in on the lastest as I put the combination into my locker.

“Well if you see here will you tell her I have something for her?” He requests.

“Is it your love confession?” I tease.

“Huh?” He acts oblivious to what I mean.

“Oh please, it’s clear as day you have a thing for Nance," I snicker as I pull out my books. "I’ve known since Steve and I showed up at your house last year.” I glance over my shoulder at him and it’s evident I’ve spooked him. My bluntness tends to have that effect on people. "Look,” I say gently and quietly between us. “I won’t say anything. I understand that she’s with Steve. So, you feel like there’s no point but it’s important to say how you feel and be honest.”

"Just like how you’re honest with Steve about having a thing for him?” He boldly fires back.

I scoff, he’s delusional! Me and Steve, really? There’s no way! I laugh, “I don’t have a-”

“Really? Yesterday in the gym?” He challenges.

His question, more like a threat, takes me by surprise. What, so Jonathan is watching me now? He’s eavesdropping on my conversations?

“How about over the summer?” He presses further, stepping closer until he towers over me. “You two were together more than he and Nancy ever were! How about this morning when I was on my way to school and saw him climbing out of your window? Hm? How about that?”

Okay, now I’m just getting pissed. “I can assure you, Steve loves Nancy!” I growl. “There’s is nothing, and I mean nothing, between us! Now I suggest you stop acting like a tough guy before I remind you who really holds all the power here,” I threaten him.

He forgets that I’m the captain of the cheer squad. I’m adored around here. He’s some punk who hangs out all day in the photography classroom. If he really wishes to test me, I can promise I will win. I always win.

“Fine then…” he mutters, mere inches from my face. “But remember, I could easily tell Nancy about last summer.”

He steps back with narrowed eyes locked on me until he turns around to slip away. I watch, stunned, as he disappears into the cluster of students traveling about the hall. A bit disturbed, to say the least, I lean back against the lockers to catch my breath.

I don’t like Steve, that’s crazy! Steve… Steve and I… we’re just friends, really good friends, best of friends! Jonathan is psychotic and tossing out random ideas to get a rise out of me. All we did was hang out over the summer! He was already dating Nancy, my oldest friend! I would never ever betray her like that! Screw Byers.

________________________

After last period, I return to my locker to pack up my homework. As I’m packing up my stuff, Nancy pops up next to me all distraught. She’s shaky and appears frightened, the same way she did when fighting the Demogorgon.

“Nance? Nancy, what’s wrong? What happened?” I ask her repeatedly, already worried.

She scans the area, making sure no one is watching us. Swiftly, she pulls into the girls bathroom.

I stumble inside, immediately checking the stalls to make sure we’re alone. Once I determine the coast is clear, I spin around to face her.

Her arms are wrapped around her tightly like a blanket. She swallows hard, her glazed eyes meet mine in fear. “I saw Barb!” She whispers as though she’ll be struck for doing so.

That’s impossible. We left Barb in the Upside Down. She’s gone. She’s dead.

“You what?” I shake my head in disbelief, pacing away from her.

“In the library!” She explains, "I saw her! She called out for us! She said this wasn’t me! She said you were hiding! Pretending!”

Now frightened, I whip my head around to face her directly. I note the hint of hope in her eyes that’s overpowered by guilt. I mourned Barb. We all did. I’m sorry for her parents, I am truly, but everyone is right! There’s nothing we can do! What’s done is done! All we can do is move on and live our lives!

I refuse to relive the endless guilt, depression, and anxiety that consumed me for months on end. I felt like a shell of a human for almost a year after what happened. I can’t do this.

“I have to go to drive Dustin home,” I announce.

Quickly, I cross the room toward the door. I have to get out of here. This is nonsense.

Nancy grabs my wrist before I pass her, “But Y/N-”

I yank my arm free from her grip, “goodbye Nancy!”

Shaken for the second time today, I storm out of the bathroom and hurry toward the exit. I grip the handle of my purse, unable to control my shaky hands. Tears coat my eyes and threaten to slip down my cheeks.

Flashbacks of that horrid night take over my train of thought. I see it clear as day. All of the blood, the sting from my arm, the pressure of that monster pinning me down. Everything I’ve been suppressing demands to be felt again. I’m living in my own personal Hell.

As I push through the doors to the parking lot, the bright sunlight blinds me for a second. People cluster outside the school in their cliques. I weave between them, eager to get to my car and fly home. I can’t allow anyone to see me like this. I’m the strong one. I have my life together. I can’t break.

In the distance, Dustin leans against the passenger door waiting for me. I keep telling myself that I’m almost there, just a couple of steps more.

“Y/N-” Someone grabs my shoulder to stop me.

Caught off guard and already distraught, I gasp and my bag slips from my shoulder to the pavement.

I peer up to see Steve eyeing me with such compassion that I nearly slip and start sobbing. I wish I could tell him everything zooming through my mind but I can’t, it’s not his burden to bear.

Urgently, he gathers my bag off the ground and places it on my shoulder. His hand lingers on my forearm, rubbing up and down comfortingly. I attempt to hide my shakiness by crossing my arms tightly.

“You’re upset,” he states the obvious but I know he means well. “Are you alright?”

I hum, nodding my head repeatedly. If I attempt to speak my voice may crack and then he’ll never let me go. Please Steve, I understand that you’re checking on me and I know you truly care but please let me go.

“What is it?” He scrunches his eyebrows as he shifts on his heels. “Is it about Nancy? She was speaking about Barb earlier. Did she confront you about it? If it is I-”

“Y/N!” Dustin shouts over to us impatiently.

For once, I won’t argue with him about interrupting me. “I have to go,” I mumble under my breath and rush off before Steve has the chance to object.

Once I’m a few feet away from Dustin, he notices my state and instantly climbs into the car without any questions.

After I toss my bag into the backseat and move up front, I take a moment to gather myself and blast some music before I start driving.

“Shitty day?” Dustin finally breaks the silence.

Rubbing my temples, I snicker, “to put it simply.”

He sighs, “Yeah, me too. First, all of the little assholes at school decide not to dress up this year. My guess is they all formed a pact and kept us out of it. It was all pretty embarrassing. Then, there’s this new girl, Max, smoking’ hot, but thinks she’s cooler than everyone else. Lucas likes her too… We followed her around for a little bit but then… well shit… she was onto us. Do you wanna talk about your day?” He offers to listen.

I shake my head and open my eyes. Exhaling deeply, I grip the wheel and prepare to go. “No, because if I do then it will lead down a dark road that I don’t wish to travel ever again.”

Dustin respects my silence and he talks most of the way home. I appreciate him not forcing me to speak about the horrors of today. Right now, I much rather listen and be distracted. Today was one of the worst days I’ve had in a while. At least tonight is the party. I could really use some mindless fun, risky shenanigans, and most importantly, booze.

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Masterlist

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things image #stranger things

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emonaculate · 3 years

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Streamer Eren Headcanon pt 2

`❥ AU: Modern!AU

`❥ Genre: Fluff

`❥ Pairing: Streamer!Eren x Black!Reader

`❥ Warnings Include: Profanity, Established relationship, Eren is a dork

`❥ Author Note: You guys loved the first one so much I decided to do it again. Sorry if it isn't as good as the first one, I'm working on other projects at the same time

Eren met you during college and was instantly smitten

You were a foreign student studying abroad

He spent months trying to learn English just to properly talk to you

You finally cave in and go on dates with him because slfkssrlw how could you not when he's that sweet

Having said that, when you're frustrated whilst he streams, to check on you he'll switch over to English.

"Hey pretty girl whats wrong?"

"I can't find the letters for my cross word."

"....Aha lemme see."

He is trying his hardest not to laugh at your cute little scrunched up face as he helps you find the word.

During his charity streams, by popular vote, he lets you do his make up

Despite the stream being 24 hrs long people continue to watch because the interactions are too cute.

" 'Ren stay still."

"It feels moist."

"Never say that again."

"Wait. Babe. I want the thingy on my eyes."

"Thingy?"

"Yeah the sharp shit and the stuff on my lashes."

"Its called wing liner and mascara, Eren."

"Yeah that shit."

"Don't swear. Kids are watching."

"Man fuck them-"

"Yeager."

"....Ahem... sorry."

He is definitely the baddest bitch after you finish <3

Kept the make up on even after the stream finished

He may be a COD player but he does not have toxic masculinity

LOVES how he looks when pampered and whilst he'll never go out of his way to do make up or use your products; if you ever offer he's down

"What that's shit on your face?"

"It's an Indian face mask."

"It looks like throw up."

"Do you wanna try it?"

"Yes."

Once talked shit about braids not hurting that bad.

So the only natural solution was to make a bet

You styled his beautiful long hair into nice and neat cornrows (if you can't braid, take him to the africans)

He couldn't even sit through the procedure, literally got up and left midway through

"Fuck no. I like pain as much as the next guy but hell no."

"Aw baby what wrong? I thought it wasn't that bad."

Went on stream the next day to talk about the experience and why he wouldn't wish that on anyone.

Everyone can tell that your relationship is serious when you accidentally broke his PS5

Like he gets absolutely livid and wants to do nothing more than yell at you

But after seeing your teary eyed expression and your broken apologies in German

He just accepts it and steps completely out of the room to keep from blowing up on you.

It takes a few days and even though you feel completely like shit, you dont bother him

He finally comes around and just holds you tightly

No words or anything

His gesture is enough to let you know he forgives you.

He gets a new one immediately and is more careful when it comes to letting you mess with alone though lmao

Decides to do the little draw my life video and moves people to tears without trying

He thought his trauma was normal pfft

While that gets to people, what really affects his audience is when he get to how you make him feel

"If I can describe Y/n with one word, I'd have to say sunshine. You know that feeling when you've seen nothing but depressing rainstorms for months at a time but just that one day, the sun pokes out and shows that the world isn't so gloomy and bad. It's actually quite beautiful. The sun manages to make those sad raindrops look like diamonds. Thats Y/n to me. She makes the days where I feel at my worst better in every way. "

Eren suffers from a couple mental illnesses which is why he donates to their respected charities

He suffers from ADHD, Depression, and Anger issues.

Now you can't just magically make all of his issues go away but you being around does soothe him in a special way

Not many people can do that and LOTS have tried

But you just manage to get him in ways he cant explain

Even the videos with all of his friends involved, his focus on you

Fans can tell when you guys are not together during streams

Eren's temper is a lot shorter and he pops off quickly.

And of course he just so happens to play "getting over it"

This is one of those times he gets cancelled

Coochie-manz63: wow ur trash

"You're literally someone who hides behind a fucking screen to talk shit but I know if I was in front of you; there would be no exchange because if you so much looked at me wrong, I would have beaten your ass into fucking next year, you dyslexic fucking waste of space. Learn how to goddamn spell before you try to talk shit again."

IloveYEAGGGGER23: Damn..

You ended up being the one to clean up his mess, yet again

"Eren is very sorry for his actions, He understands how his words can be hurtful to others.. Right babe?"

"Huh? Oh um yeah.. My bad ig."

After the apology video, you give Eren one of your famous lectures.

"Eren you can't treat others like that just because you get a little upset. Remember what your therapist said about controlling your temper. You can't just do it when I'm around, you have to do it all the time.

Now Eren loves you to pieces but your lectures just do not help his ADHD mind.

So to shut you up, he does the only thing he knows how

Takes your breath and thoughts away with his passionate kisses.

His pattern is always the same

He pretends to listen, nodding occasionally, stands up and moves closer to you.

Grabs your jaw gently and tips your head back before capturing your lips into a sheering kiss that always leaves you breathless

"What were we talking about?"

"We were just going to get some food."

You're just as weak for Eren as he is for you <3

#eren x black reader #eren jaeger #eren aot #snk #aot headcanons #eren headcanons #eren yeager x black reader #black reader #eren has anger issues but is still sweet

669 notes · View notes

whumpmatsus · 3 years

Note

Heyo! 👋 hope you're doing well! If you are taking requests right now, maybe some Ichi hurt/comfort? Like maybe he's having a depressive episode one day (me? Projecting? It's more likely than you think 😂) unlike any he's ever had before, and he just doesn't have the strength to do anything, even make snippy remarks at any of his brothers. One (or all, you can pick!) of them notices this odd behavior, and makes it their mission to help him feel a little more like his old self, even if that just means "riding out the storm" with him.

Oof this was really long, lol sorry 😂 but thanks for taking the time to read, I love your writing style! Take care! 👋

eyyy don't be sorry! God I REALLY enjoyed writing this... I love how it turned out

sometimes these guys can be jerks, for sure, even when one of their own is in pain

but... when it's serious... THIS BEAUTIFUL SHIT HAPPENS

please enjoy Ichi being spoiled and surrounded by love from all his brothers because HE DESERVES IT and I love how this turned out <3

Ichimatsu’s first (and maybe only) mistake is that he assumes his brothers don’t pay that much attention to him one way or the other unless he speaks up.

Or, maybe it’s that he often hopes they don’t.

Because he knows they care; there are little things they all do that remind him that no matter what, they love him. But they all have their own things to do, and most of the time he finds that best. They should be able to do whatever they like instead of wasting their lives making him feel better. He has a bad day or hates himself so much of the time, if they paid him attention whenever he wasn’t doing well, they’d never get to enjoy themselves with other things.

He cares about them, too. So usually he’d rather they occupy themselves with their own interests whenever he’s not feeling well. He can bury things deep inside and pretend those shitty feelings don’t exist and act almost normal. As normal as someone like him can act, anyway. For their sake. They don’t deserve to worry about him.

Today, he’s too tired for whatever reason. His scathing barbs and negative attitude on most days aren’t really fake… on the bad days, though, he can force his typical demeanor so nobody suspects he’s not fine. All they see is sour-faced, ill-tempered fourth brother Ichimatsu.

He can’t even do that much right now. It’s as if the weight of existence and his own mind is pulling him down, further and further, until he’s drowning in his thoughts. Horrible thoughts. Things telling him he’s worthless, a failure, a burden, good for nothing, should probably be dead… too many things to keep track of.

If he were trying not to get his brothers’ attention by being quiet and listless, it isn’t working. In fact, his current behavior has actually done the opposite.

While he’s lying in the corner of the room, curled around himself and wishing he could fall asleep to avoid dealing with these thoughts and feelings, the others are around their table muttering among themselves.

“You guys noticed he barely touched breakfast, right?” Osomatsu is the first to speak up, and he’s doing his best not to look at Ichimatsu too much, simply because he doesn’t want his younger brother to feel everyone’s eyes on him. He’s pretty sure that would just make matters worse.

Choromatsu hums in agreement. “Yeah, no, he just kind of stared into his tea… he might have taken a sip or two, but that’s about it. I don’t think he even ate any rice.”

“Did he even brush his teeth this morning?” Totty speaks up. “Or his hair? It looks messier than usual, and I was the last one in the bathroom before breakfast, and it didn’t look like his toothbrush had been used.”

“Also,” Karamatsu chimes in, “I believe that is the same outfit he wore yesterday. He didn’t sleep in it, but he put it back on when he got up even though it hasn’t been washed.”

Choromatsu frowns and steals a quick glance at the fourth eldest. “Like he… didn’t wanna think about picking something different out, huh? And… it’s kind of worrying that he didn’t brush his teeth or hair. I mean, that’s basic hygiene. It’s like he’s depressed or… some… thing…”

Suddenly a light bulb goes off, and the rest of the brothers exchange a concerned look with each other.

“Oh,” is all Osomatsu says for a moment. Then, “Fuck.”

Before anyone else can breathe a word, Jyushimatsu leans back away from the table and collapses with his head in Ichimatsu’s lap. “Aaaah, Ichimatsu-nii-chan! Baseball practice today? We can do it at the beach!”

Ichimatsu hardly flinches at the abrupt contact, but really it’s because he doesn’t even have the strength to be startled. He doesn’t move to push Jyushimatsu off or bounce his leg to dissuade the him from staying or anything. It’s a moment until he actually says anything, like a delayed reaction from a computer. “Uh. Not today, Jyushi. I’m probably gonna take a nap.”

“Hmmmmmmm… oh, I know! I’ll nap with you! Maybe we’ll dream about baseball!”

All the others watch closely, waiting to see if he gives an average Ichimatsu reaction. Instead, he doesn’t even shrug. “Yeah, if you want.”

Obviously, that’s not what they would be expecting from any other day. They all look at each other again, minus Jyushimatsu who just curls up against his big brother’s side.

Ichimatsu, on the other hand, is so out of it in his own head that he doesn’t realize that he’s done anything to worry his brothers. They should all be paying attention to their own shit, right?

He just feels so exhausted despite that he knows he slept okay last night. All he did this morning was wake up and get out of bed and already he’s… drained.

You’re so lazy. You can’t even put together the energy it takes to read a fucking magazine or something? To do nothing like you usually do? What kind of loser doesn’t have enough energy to do something like watch TV?

What the hell is wrong with you?

He cringes at the sound of his own inner voice berating him, and ducks his head down between his knees. Shit. Everything hurts. Isn’t that right, though? He’s useless. It doesn’t take any effort to just sit somewhere watching TV or reading and yet he’s not even willing to do something like that.

Even though he expects that Jyushimatsu might want to hang out with him, because the two of them are close, he doesn’t anticipate it when Osomatsu comes over and sits himself down across from Ichimatsu. At least, he thinks it’s Osomatsu. He doesn’t really feel like lifting his head fully; it looks like a red hoodie, though.

“Uh, hey, Ichimacchan.” Osomatsu feels a little awkward at first, mainly due to the fact that he’s never sure what to do when Ichimatsu is in one of ‘these’ moods. What works on one day might not work the next time. Previous experience is all he has to draw on, though.

“I noticed you didn’t eat too much at breakfast… you in the mood for something sweet?” Tempting him with one of their favorite treats might put him in better spirits, at least for a minute. “There’s a box of imagawayaki on the counter… there’s three in there, so we can split ‘em. Mom said these ones have chocolate cream in them.”

Everyone else lets out a blissful sigh as they all think about how delicious that’s going to be. Bean paste or custard or even regular cream is always good, but chocolate cream? If they had to fight over those, someone might end up dead.

Ichimatsu offers a shrug in his brother’s direction. “Sure, if you guys want. I’m just not that hungry.”

Osomatsu frowns, and looks over toward Choromatsu who’s thankfully recovered from the imagawayaki imagine spot. None of the brothers would ever turn that down. Even if they weren’t necessarily hungry, they’d make room for something that good. Moreover, given that Ichimatsu didn’t eat anything at breakfast, he should be starving,especially for sweets.

Choromatsu makes his way over, setting a careful hand on Ichimatsu’s shoulder. He doesn’t have any more of a clue what to do than their eldest, so he’s flying by the seat of his pants just as much. Something has to be done… they can’t just let poor Ichimatsu suffer. “Ichimacchan? It’s pretty cold today. How about I turn on the kotatsu, and if you’re gonna nap, you can sleep with your legs under it? That might feel nice.”

Well. That does sound nice, Ichimatsu thinks, because curling up under the heat of the kotatsu is always nice in the winter. But… he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have the energy to even move from this spot. “Oh, yeah… I’ll probably just nap here, though. Don’t really feel like moving.”

“Aaah, but you are cold, aren’t you? I can hear your teeth chattering from all the way over here!” Karamatsu is up in an instant, tugging his leather jacket off his shoulders. Although it leaves him in nothing but a tank top ― and a horribly plain grey one, at that ― it’s a necessary sacrifice for his little brother’s comfort.

He hurries over to where everyone else is gathering and gently drapes the jacket over Ichimatsu’s shoulders. “Hmph… Karamatsu to the rescue as usual! You’re looking cozier already.”

Man,Ichimatsu’s mind comes up with, I try on Shittymatsu’s dumbass jacket one time and suddenly he’s coming up with any excuse to put the stupid thing over me. Do I really want him freezing instead of me? Why don’t I just move my ass over to the kotatsu? He’s gonna catch a cold and it’ll be all my fault because my stubborn ass didn’t move and he took pity on me.

God, I wanna die. They’re all falling all over themselves to do shit to cheer me up when they should be focusing on themselves. I’m fucking trash, making my brothers waste all their damn time on me. Why couldn’t I just do stuff and not make them worry?

“… Ichimatsu-nii-san?” Totty has plopped himself down in front of Ichimatsu, staring in concern at his big brother. Fuck. He’s using that eye voodoo of his, and if he says anything, if he asks Ichimatsu a question, he’s gonna get an honest answer despite the fact that Ichimatsu doesn’t want to admit anything.

He can’t help it, though. Totty’s hand is soft as he reaches up toward Ichimatsu’s face, thumbing away tears that Ichimatsu didn’t even realize he’d started to cry. But his youngest brother is delicate in the way he brushes them, so caring and tender that any little bit of strength Ichimatsu had to keep things hidden away crumbles quickly.

“Hehe,” Totty chuckles, though there isn’t a genuine mirth behind it, “you’re not having a good day, Ichimatsu-nii-san… are you?”

He blinks, and more tears start to drip down his cheeks. This time Totty doesn’t make a move to wipe them away, instead staring at his brother with those big, sad doe eyes, glittering with sympathy.

Ichimatsu lets his head drop again, eyes pressing against his arm and tears soaking into his sleeve. “N-no,” he manages to say in a quiet, insecure, small voice. He hates it. He hates making this stupid confession, because he should be able to take care of himself. His brothers don’t need to be huddled around him, pissing their days down the drain. “I’m… I’m having a bad day.”

With that, it’s like all five of them attach themselves to him all at once. There’s a brief cacophony of worry and reassurances, and a hug Ichimatsu almost loses himself inside of.

“Alright, you hear that, guys?” Osomatsu announces, maybe a bit louder than he really needs to. “Ichimatsu’s having a bad day! Woohoo!”

Choromatsu scoffs. “Ah, ‘woohoo’?? Osomatsu, you idiot! This isn’t a good thing!”

Osomatsu pulls away to rub a finger under his nose with a grin. “Hey, sure it is! He said it, didn’t he? Good for you, Ichimacchan! You’re having a bad day and you said so! Remember what happened when Totty kept junk from us? We need to know this shit! I’m glad you said something!”

Karamatsu’s hand tousles Ichimatsu’s hair as he pulls his brother into a hug. “Yes, Osomatsu is right. You’re having a bad day, Ichimatsu, and that’s just fine. It takes a lot of bravery to admit it, so we’re proud of you.”

“Plus, we’re gonna make this the best bad day ever!” Totty hums. He’s whipped his phone out before anyone can so much as blink, typing away on it. “It’s just about lunch time, so I’m gonna order some takeout! Ichimatsu-nii-san, what sounds good? Curry? Sushi? Ooh… maybe fried chicken? We don’t do that too often… might be a nice treat! Oh, it’s your call, though.”

Osomatsu gives Ichimatsu a tiny bump on the shoulder with his fist. “You and Totty figure that out while I go cut that imagawayaki for us. Be right back, guys.”

… Am I in the fucking Twilight Zone or something? What the hell???

Ichimatsu lifts his head just a little, looking at all his brothers. Totty’s on his phone looking at delivery options, Osomatsu is headed to the kitchen, Jyushimatsu is nuzzled against his side…

None of them are leaving him by himself. They all still want to be here even when his mood sucks ass. Even when he can’t really do anything for himself. Even when he’s being a huge fucking pain and a thorn in their sides and doing literally nothing to contribute to the day.

What the hell are they all doing? Why are they all fine with wasting their day taking care of him?

When Karamatsu presses a couple of tissues into his hand, Ichimatsu somehow finds the energy to use them to wipe his face. Fuck, he hates crying, and he hates people seeing him cry. “Don’t do this,” he mumbles. “You’re fucking morons. You have better shit to do than…”

“No way!” Jyushimatsu aggressively snuggles against the side of Ichimatsu’s stomach, circling his arms around his brother’s waist. “What better shit could weeeee have to do? We’re shitty NEETs!”

Choromatsu chuckles. “Besides, there’s literally nothing more important than taking care of each other, especially when one of us is down and out. Ichimatsu, you… know none of us are shy when it comes to being honest. So, just… try to believe us when we say there’s nothing we’d rather be doing than being with you right now.”

He straightens up, then gingerly taps Jyushimatsu with his foot. “Hey, Jyushi, how about you scoot yourself and Ichimatsu over to the kotatsu? And Totty, are you really gonna make a delivery driver come out in this weather? It’s almost below freezing! Why don’t you go get it yourself?”

“Excuse you, but if they haven’t shut down the delivery option, why shouldn’t I take advantage of it? I don’t wanna leave Ichimatsu-nii-san!”

“Okay, okay… I guess that’s fair. What are you ordering, again?”

“Aaaah, I dunno! I was waiting for Ichimatsu-nii-san to say what he feels like.”

Meanwhile, Jyushimatsu has somehow gotten himself and Ichimatsu over to the kotatsu, and is currently shoving his big brother’s legs under it while Choromatsu moves to plug it in. “Home run, YEAH! Your tootsies will be toasty in no time, Ichimatsu-nii-san!”

“O-oh… thanks, Jyushi…” That’s about all he can say, really. He’s slumped over the table in a matter of seconds, and although there’s no way it can support the weight of everything he feels like he’s being crushed under, feels a little more relaxing than holding himself in a tight ball in the corner.

He’s going to cry again. He’s pretty sure he’s going to cry again. His brothers, his selfish, douche-a-holic, demon brothers… would rather be taking care of him on a bad day than out doing their own things, not touching him or his shitty mood with a ten-foot pole.

Jyushimatsu is cuddled up on one side, and he can feel Karamatsu settling in on the other with an arm around Ichimatsu’s shoulders. That’s it. He’s surrounded by brothers and their warm, selfless-for-once-in-their-lives affection. He has to surrender. He doesn’t stand a chance.

His mind drifts back to the others. “Oh… Totty…”

“Oh! Yeah, mhm?”

“Um… curry sounds good, I guess.”

The impossibly huge smile on his youngest brother’s face comes through even when he speaks. “Oh, great! Curry it is! Okaaaay, I’m gonna get it from that nice place in town. You want it with rice or udon? Or do you want curry bread?”

“Uhh… just with rice.”

“Rice, okay, sounds good! Beef, chicken, or pork?”

“Huh… you mentioned fried chicken, now that sounds good. Does that place do curry rice with tonkatsu on top?”

“Oooh… that does sound good. Yeah, I think there’s an option for that. Chicken tonkatsu with curry rice, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Gotcha. Is that what everybody wants?”

“Yeah, Totty,” Choromatsu injects, “just order the same thing for everybody. We’ll all eat that.”

“Okay, what about sides? Does anyone want fukujinzuke or rakkyō?”

“Geez, just… just get half of each and we can divide it up if anyone wants any.”

“Okaaay! I’m not ordering drinks from there, though… too expensive. We have tea here. Oh, I’ll get a few orders of pork curry bread, too, in case we want a snack later.”

“Well, make sure you get either three or six.”

“Yeahhhh, Cherrymatsu, I’m not stupid! I’ll just get three; I’m fine buying some, but I’m not trying to go broke! Does that sound okay, Ichimatsu-nii-san? The curry bread for later?”

It takes a moment, but finally Ichimatsu lets out a breathy, almost tearful laugh as he leans against Karamatsu’s shoulder. “Totty… you’re trying to fatten me up… you witch… you’re gonna cook me and eat me… that’s your plan, huh?…”

The whole room erupts into a small fit of laughter, even Totty who’s blushing at being teased. Ichimatsu feels Karamatsu press a kiss to his head, and he sighs. Usually he wouldn’t be able to take all of this… the attention, and Totty blabbering away, and Choromatsu trying to be responsible, and… everything.

At the moment, it feels right. Like things are supposed to be this way. Like he’s supposed to be having a bad day so his brothers can all gather around him and remind him that regardless of anything else, when one of them needs their brothers, everyone is going to be there.

Maybe he needed that reminder.

Maybe they all did.

#depression tw #suicidal thoughts tw #Osomatsu san #whump #Ichimatsu #Osomatsu #Karamatsu #Choromatsu #Jyushimatsu #Totty #hurt/comfort #emotional whump #depression #caretaking #LOOK AT MY BOYS!!!! BEING GOOD BOYS #TAKING CARE OF THEIR BROTHER!!!!#y'all PLEASE SCREAM WITH ME #I love this fam so much ;-;

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vaguely-concerned · 3 years

Text

X-men Evolution; the great 2021 rewatch liveblog

exactly what it says on the tin, about halfway through the show I had TOO MANY FEELINGS and had to start writing some of them out haha (gets quite gambit & rogue/gambit heavy in the latter half, Because of Who I Am as a Person)

- this is my childhood’s x-men, my formative experience with them, and I’m happy to report that still seems like a good thing. the little eleven year old within me gets to geek out and have a good time with the characters and the surprisingly good animation and writing, adult me gets to CACKLE at regular intervals at the fashion/technology/absolute bonkers hot garbage comic book nonsense they use to justify a storyline every now and then, it’s been a good time

- I was like ‘ah well it is super dated it probably won’t be quite the same now’ and then rogue’s HAIR did the THING in the opening and ‘it’s all coming back to me now’ started playing in the background... the little baby queer in me swooning across time and space

- such a good beast, both his design and the writing, my heart aches for him all the time. he’s just so passionate! about being a teacher! helping young humans learn the stuff they’ll need in life! the most wonderful nerd man, just let good things happen for him

- I’m going to go ahead and assume that rogue’s ‘crush’ on scott is more of a deeply complex psychological process about desiring normalcy and intimacy and trying to figure out if she’s queer and dealing with her emerging sexuality and latching on to the first and best safely unavailable and nonthreatening older boy to project these issues onto rather than actually being a real thing, because I respect her so much as a person and I cannot bring myself to imagine she’s honestly attracted to a man who has POSTERS OF CARS on his bedroom wall. (I’ll give jean a break just because she seems to have a longer deeper history with him that might counteract some of that libido-kill, and also she’s a jock so lol)

like I am very sorry but can u imagine being a teenage girl with any interest in a boy with model cars in his bedroom when gambit’s swanning around being a much, much, much worse choice on almost every possible level but in a teen girl kryptonite kind of way? inconceivable

(I drag scott quite a few times in this and it’s not because I don’t love him, it’s just his tragedy to be the most draggable man in the world)

to be fair by the time gambit shows up that whole Situation has mostly played itself out I suppose but still

- toad’s design is so ineffably brilliant, I can’t quite tell you why but that ugly cute charm has really stuck with me, he’s one of the characters I remembered the best to this day just visually

- poor evan... he truly never had a chance, did he, they just saddled him with the most 90s teen bullshit they could come up with like he’s some kind of ‘what adult writers think teens like’ frankenstein’s monster ;______; it’s not your fault honey

- poor poor POOR storm, she gets one focus episode and they were like ‘we’re going to make an episode so racist -- ‘

I’m still STUNNED at how bad it was, but undeniably I laughed hysterically to the point that my neighbours were probably worried when that dude was earnestly like ‘He [stunningly breathlessly racist caricature of a ‘witch doctor’ guy] has stolen her powers, and he’s going to use them to take over Africa!!!’ fhajsdlfhsakjldfh oh really? tell me more, like how the fUCK this could be on television within my life time fasdlfhsdkjfhsad f just... fahjksdfh

- it’s a testament to gambit’s appeal as a character that his charm can survive what they’ve done with his hair and beard choices in this one fajskfhs regrettable but true I still fuckn LOVE him and in my highly biased yet Correct opinion he should have been around much more. get you a man who manages to stay hot through sheer Vibes even with a bowl cut

- aw scott/jean is kind of sweet in this show even if it’s taking them forEVER to get there, I like it

- it’s very nice of rogue to not mention magneto’s romantic daydreams and nostalgic memories about charles xavier after touching his face that one time... or maybe her brain did her a service and repressed it, there’s some stuff you shouldn’t have to know about your father figure

- the danger room is the very definition of ‘why do we even have that lever’ and I wonder what the fuck prof x does to have enough money to replace everything that gets busted all the time

- I’d say that a lot of the writing holds up surprisingly well! (but some of it is also incredibly inexcusably racist in ways that beggar belief, so... not full marks here) the characters have distinct voices and their arcs are set up and delivered on solidly for the most part, and there’s a lot of love showing through in small moments that are just there to have a funny/interesting thing to say about the characters and how their powers work separately and in combination. listen, sometimes I get so thirsty for like. basic goddamn competency in storytelling, let me have this

- ugggggh why is there captain america in my x-men have I not suffered enough... very very funny when prof x goes ‘sounds like you knew rogers personally’ and logan is like ‘I did ;)’ *all the students ganging up on steve rogers* “did you fuck our teacher, captain america?!”

- fskadfhas WHY are you showing me hot young-ified magneto’s ass fksjahfskj charles is not even here to see it, what a tragic waste erik

- ...I was sort of kidding before but uh I think logan genuinely did fuck captain america (or at least wishes very much that he did lol)

- wanda can have a little watching the world burn. as a treat for the way every single adult in her life has fucking failed her (’aren’t they treating you well here’ professor x she’s in a straightjacket)

- poor rogue tho can you imagine finding out after your biggest crush on a girl yet that she’s your fucking MOM in disguise... I would break out in cold sweat every time I thought about a boob forever after

- well seems like they really just had all that homoerotic rivalry stuff between quicksilver and spyke in their first ep only to never do anything with that again ever?? I mean even without the gay undertone that seems like a dynamic you spent most of an episode setting up writers what the hell haha

- dslhfkasjlh GAMBIT THERE HE IS MY BOY IS ON THE SCENE THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! I don’t even care about his awful hair situation or the fact that his eyes are wrong here (coloured contact lenses, maybe, for a watsonian explanation? though he’d probably have to get them made special, considering he needs the sclera and the iris covered up in different ways, I’ve seen some comic panels indicating he has been known to?)

(cute little detail: when he shuffles the cards the first time we see him he ends with removing the top card to show the ace of hearts beneath <3 foreshadowing baBEY he’s a... good-ish boy deep down. hey he tries okay shit gets complicated sometimes lol)

- cracking UP at gambit perched cheerily on the edge of a crate dispensing cards in the middle of the battle... he’s like ‘eh it’s a livin’ sfsajkhf remy stop working for supervillains just because you had nothing to do on a thursday afternoon and they said they’d pay you

- I’m guessing magneto must have imposed a strict order of silence on these guys or something because I cannot imagine any other reason for him to shut up, especially once he notices rogue is a QTE (or, far more likely, they hadn’t settled on any voice actors for the new characters until next season haha. it is kind of odd that they’re all keeping up near monastic silence, though, even sabertooth lol)

- WHAT an epic first meeting for us rogue/gambit fans here... first his shadow like there’s fireworks going off behind him lighting him up and then he gives her the fuckn king of hearts and she’s so enchanted by his dumb handsome face she doesn’t even notice it’s about to blow up in her hands and it all happens in heavily meaningful silence afjsdfjashjk no wonder this ship ingrained itself in my hindbrain

yeah look smug while you can remy she’s gonna have you on your knees one day and you’ll be happy about it lol

- god storm is so COOL, everything just fading out of focus when she really gets going... give her more screen time, show!!

- mystique is every person... this person... that person... that bird... that cat... that wolf... I’m not even sure she’s not also me... are you sure she’s not you?

- holy fuck I respect the hell out of the decision to just... blow up the entire status quo in a season ender, I only vaguely remembered that (actually in general I appreciate how good the continuity is -- buildings and places that get damaged in battles need to be repaired or rebuilt, it makes the consequences feel more real even when no one gets seriously hurt. where they get the money to restore scott’s car and logan’s motorbikes every time they go cablooie is still an open question tho lol is it credit card fraud, professor? is it telepathically acquired blackmail???)

- I first watched this when I was nine or so, so it’s a real experience to go from my starry eyed intrigued ‘oh my god... they’re teenagers’ to my horrified adult perspective of ‘oh my god... they’re TEENAGERS D:’

that goes double for the brotherhood boys honestly, I’m here with tears in my eyes like ‘I’m sorry the system has failed you so badly you’re all just a bunch of dumb kids whose caretakers clearly fucked up spectacularly’

like lance is always waiting for mystique to come back because she’s the closest thing he has to a safe parental figure, may we speak about how crushingly depressing that is

- rogue is so ready to throw hands at literally any moment and for that I love and treasure her immensely (I think getting to see her be so surly and unreasonable and sometimes difficult and jealous, like any teenager, meant a lot to me as a kid who was not really allowed to be any of these things, this version of the character has stayed with me so deeply. she holds on so fiercely to her right to feel what she feels and be what she is even when it’s ‘ugly’ or unreasonable, which I think plays in really interestingly with how her powers involve getting invaded by other people’s thoughts and memories to the point of overwhelming her own sense of self and the fact that she clearly has a lot of self-loathing and self-consciousness and confusion about her identity as well. I love her so much)

- oooof this is the ‘the gang experience a microaggression’ episode huh (well more like macroagressions really)

hits a bit different with adult eyes and perspective huh

- hearing jean sound almost like a child when she says ‘that’s so unfair!’ somehow has me like ;______; -- she has to be so adult and responsible all the time, and having her be reduced to the kid she still is and should get to be in front of this awful awful man she could squash like a bug with the flick of a thought... ugh I’m Big Sad (it is funny that jean seemingly plays Every Sport tho djfhaskj)

- MY BOY IS BACK!!! this time with the duster coat and his eyes the right colour, im so happy (too bad about the subdued colour scheme tho; I adore his dumb bright pink getup with my whole heart)

it’s kind of adorable that he takes the time to take the bullies aside and go ‘I know these guys can’t wreck you without getting expelled, but I think you’ll find no law set down by god or man would stop me from doing so whenever I wanted to. so piss off and leave them alone’ lol he’s looking out for them, in his own way

- in this episode: remy lebeau wrangles some kids while looking bored yet mildly amused the whole time. what the fuck does magneto have on you for you to agree to this level of babysitting duty buddy

- fun detail I noticed b/c when I get a fave I hyperfixate: he gave rogue the king of hearts before, but he ‘introduces’ himself to the brotherhood here (lol) with the jack of hearts, probably to symbolize he’s here as someone who works for magneto in this setting and not as his own man? it’s a demotion he’s given himself there, anyway, might be he’s not very pleased about his current position huh

- I like it when rogue and kitty team up, they’re not very effective together but their squabbling is so cute and non-aggressive

- pietro is what draco malfoy would be if I ever found malfoy interesting to watch for even one moment, every time quicksilver talks I’m like ‘what wonderfully insufferable thing is going to come out of your mouth this time you little shit :’)’

- a) why are scott and logan shirtless for this scene? I am not complaining on the logan side of things at least but why and b) I laughed so hard I almost fell off my couch when scott asked logan if he’d ever been in love and he was like ‘once. she was the most beautiful bike I ever saw’ falsdfhaskjfhsakjlfhasklhjfd THE BEST VERSION OF WOLVERINE EVER, ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTES

- mystique’s sheer dedication to being a petty bitch is kind of inspirational tbh, almost makes me want to go on a completely bonkers and extra crusade of personal revenge myself

- oooh they’re doing some genuinely cool things with vision/lack of vision in this one (it’s the scott left on his own in the desert without glasses one btw) even visually, dang! I’m so sad this show didn’t get more seasons than it did, honestly, it deserved it

- hell yeah jean wreck her, go get your man with the suspiciously specific clothing damage normally done to female characters

awww :’) okay yeah they’re super sweet, I love the tiny loving animation details like how he leans his head against her and her stroking his hair away from his eyes

- nooo don’t bully evan leave my t0tally r4dical sk8er boy alone :(

- I love the running joke of people fleeing in blind panic only to reveal that what they’re running from is kitty’s cheerful well meaning little face fskfaskh

- scott and jean are already peak married after officially being together for one episode and it’s adorable, and they just stone cold threw logan under the bus, rip wolverine we hardly knew ya

fjasdlfasldfhslajdkfhsadkjlfhsdkjalfhsdakfh h jean establishing herself as the alphabitch of this relationship by throwing her man to the wolves right after dsjfhaskjfhaskjhfsakjdhfaskjhfaskdhfskjahfskdajhf get smarter or get volunteered scott

- ...eyepatch lady is so hot ngl

oh evan went to the place hank used to go to calm down ;________; (honestly he’s kind of won a place in my heart just by being a pretty normal teenage boy haha)

- jesus fucking CHRIST can you imagine being storm having to look her sister in the eye as she tells her ‘I lost your only child, he’s *vague gesture* somewhere in the sewers we think’ this poor woman

- amanda the self admitted monster fucker you are so VALID (I love her and her family’s design so much tho!)

- it’s so cool that even in his human ‘disguise’ kurt’s fingers follow the shape of his actual hand beneath it rather than moving like a five fingered hand, it’s such a lovingly consistent little detail

- magneto and mystique in a breathless race to see who can be the shittiest parent... tune in next week for yet another parental nadir (also some low-poly gambit appearances in this one, for those at home keeping score (me), he’s in the background looking like someone drew him with their eyes closed fakjldfhasd look how they massacred my boy)

- someone please teach the brotherhood boys about consent huh

- jean ‘soccer mom before her time’ grey and her SUV dfhakjlhds :’)

- im sobbing rogue baby girl i’m so sorryyyyyy, this voice actress is so good, my parental instincts suddenly kicked into overdrive hearing the crack in her voice :( (bb me was right tho rogue centric episodes ARE the best episodes. that tension between ‘do I identify witn this character or am I crushing on her?? both???’ now has the fun new addition of ‘oh god oh no you are a baby I want to shield you with my body from everything trying to hurt you’)

- mystique is like ‘so you see despite you telling me you never wanted to see me again I completely disrespected that and posed as a friend your age, manipulated you by offering you the mirage of direly needed emotional intimacy and belonging and added some sprinkles of homoerotic tension to it just to massively worsen your already existing grievous psychosexual trauma and identity issues... out of love’

god go jump in a black hole you fucking monster

- there’s some very interesting and quite subtle subtext about the people she’s morphing into and what that says about her mental state/how it shows off some of her emotional baggage with the rest of the team. it’s like she’s switching between people/powers that fit the purpose as if she’s going through cycles of fight/flight (and then bursts of freeze where she’s herself, which is... so sad)

- this whole episode is hurting my heart but rogue at full power is undeniably epic

- ‘professor x get your goddamn act together and get this poor girl some fucking tHERAPY’ challenge

- SAFE PAPA LOGAN ;_____;

- EYYYYYY opening straight on My Lad, I cannot stop winning!!!!!

fasdfhsad disintegrating the window with a smiley face... remy I do love you more than my heart can bear honestly, hello may we speak about the fact that his urge to be a little shit is so deep and strong it survives mind control (that little breathed out ‘hiah!’ as he vaults the fence too dsakfjsd)

hahaha and he does up the coat fhsalfdsaj

- magneto dismissing other telepaths like ‘puh-lease, your Meaningful Looks have got nothing on my ex-husband’s’

- :’) rogue and kurt sibling timeees

- say what you want but this pyro guy’s got job satisfaction in being a creepy arsonist with a weird recurring horse theme (well at least twice but still weird)

- I love how beast is the kindest man to ever walk the earth but also straight up savage, this man drags people so hard their ancestors wince in their graves

- gambit taking the time to complete the guard’s game of solitaire -- this episode is giving me everything I want. u little disgrace mr lebeau

and THEN he takes the spider out in the most hilariously bonkers way my heart is so FULL

(I love that when magneto moves by he looks startled and has to quickly move his head out of the way to avoid getting kicked in the temple too that’s a fun detail)

I’m so INTO how this sequence shows off that his greatest strength isn’t even his powers (which are pretty straightforward, really, he makes go boom, longer time and bigger thing bigger boom) but that he’s clever and creative and always extremely ready to be the most harebrained-bananapants-extra-in-a-deceptively-laidback-sort-of-way person in the room (I actually have some genuinely Deep Thoughts about how his whole character does a really interesting thing with having the straightforwardly destructive nature of his powers yield to what his nature as a person is, and how using the playing cards play (heh) into it, maybe I’ll write it out some day. just the fact that he could use anything, but he deliberately chose something that adds style and playfulness and corny charm to it and that also limits the damage of the explosions compared to if he habitually used something with more mass... I find it fascinating how much he’s made a story around himself with it and how deeply it shows he does have a good heart, at the end of the day, in almost a metatextual way. he doesn’t want to destroy things or people, he’s at worst (and best lol) a thief.)

- I honestly have literally no memory of white nick fury (which seems so weird now isn’t it funny) in this series from when I was a kid, he clearly did not make an impression on me lol

- mr wolverine ‘assigned canadian at birth’ x-men

- oh man I dig the androgynity of x-23′s outfit (even tho they had to compensate with the long hair, which... kind of doesn’t make sense in-universe but does on a design level because it’s a crucial thing that she’s a female clone of logan so yeah okay fine whatever have your arbitrary gender markers if you must haha)

ooooooh that’s actually really clever, they make her gender gradually more obvious as she unravels through the episode and her outfit changes -- first the mask coming off, and then her jacket opening to show her silhouette more clearly, that’s cool!

- my god what really sets this show apart is how much it invests in little character and relationship moments, it’s just so fucking GOOD! it gives laura looking in on those moments such depth and weight because it’s new to her but established to us as an audience, this is how you make found family devastating people (storm growing bonsai trees is so charming too haha)

- ooof this is honestly quite harrowing

SHE’S SO SMALL COMPARED TO HIM I’M CRYING (at least that part of his genes translated over faslkfsjdh short king, I say this with all the love and support of a fellow short monarch)

- tabitha seems to just be running around doing precisely whatever the fuck she wants and you know what I support her even if she is an asshole her father left her a bunch of trauma and no fucks left to give

- still thrilled about professor x explaining the spider key fuckup to magneto after the fact like ‘magnus you dumb bitch this is why we split up’

- awww kitty has anime and movie posters on her wall and sleeps with a stuffed toy :’)

- remy rogue

🤝

doing completely unnecessary parkour around the brotherhood living room seemingly just for the hell of it... I’m not saying soulmates but fucking soulmates

- fhsadkjlfhsakjldfhsadjkfhsdajkfh just as gambit’s soul-level need to be a little shit survived his bout of mind control, rogue’s deep and urgent desire to kiss gambit full on the mouth survived hers I can’t breathe

she looks so pleased with herself too GOOD FOR YOU GIRL at least get something out of this other than more trauma

also not only the fact that he’s smart enough to figure out what’s going on (though he’s only partially right about who’s behind it. I do so enjoy gambit/mystique deep and sincere antipathy as a constant across all universes tho lmao pure wlw/mlm hostility) but also that he keeps fending her off like he’s not trying to hurt her even though she’s in nigh on unstoppable and invulnerable terminator mode... awww

- gambit having absolutely no patience for wolverine and sabertooth’s bullshit macho-off and consistently being this little biker trio’s one brain cell is adding years to my life with every passing moment

his voice is a little different in these scenes too, a bit softer and less like he’s trying to impress someone, it’s nice

- hank: well I barely recognize any of these (completely made up) ‘ancient egyptian hieroglyphs’ but from what I can make out -- *proceeds to infodump a perfect coherent narrative* fjdhfak

listen this whole thing is such nonsense on so many levels, I’m just turning my brain off so I won’t have to think about it okay, the compulsion to put ancient aliens in egypt haunts us as a culture

- I am CACKLING about gambit in the snow after having to listen to these two chucklefucks ooze testosterone at each other for hours

he started out taking it in good cheer and is now reduced to ‘dieu would both of you just jump off this fUCKING mountain please’

- ah. a little oops-a-daisy there, we seem to have unleashed the apocalypse. please stand by (they really don’t pull their punches with the season cliffhangers in this show haha)

- opening the season on gambit’s merrily grinning face is the easiest way to gain my favour. yes good this season may commence

baby u r my

ANGELLLLLLLL

(he’s so cute here tho haha I think it shows the design isn’t unsalvagable, just get him better hair and stubble more like logan has and you’ve basically got it)

love his exasperated eyeroll when the dude gets spooked (by his eyes? or just the general weirdness?) too

he’s just trying to keep this crazy family of evil mutants together and unmurdered by one another until they’ve managed to avert the end of the world, bless him

- oh NO rogue’s LIP wobbles my hhhhhheart ;____; such a good animation detail to put in

- like... I know kurt is just a sad scared teenager with a lot of shit going on and all the adults are too busy averting the end of the world to help him... but buddy maybe don’t ask your sister to wake her abuser (who forced her to kickstart the end of the world!!!!!) when she feels utterly unsafe even with her statue version around huh

- ...wanda is good and I want only good things for her. and for her dad to be disemboweled for what he did to her both the first time around and when he forced her to forget I mean what

- magneto throwing an epic satelite-slinging tantrum b/c ‘no I am the biggest sexiest strongest mutant of the pack :(’... erik fucking get over yourself

- yes boys absolutely go along with a plan suggested by a dude who looks at you like this

nothing bad can come of this surely asdfkhsa

- lance’s quarter of a braincell always trying to go ‘hey wait, maybe... not do this???’ and it never helps lol

- in this episode: Logan Has A Bad Day

...some very specific bondage positions he’s held in here, I am sure this episode awakened something in someone once upon a time lol

- logan shielding x-23 with his body... im fine it’s okay I’m not crying don’t look at me

- afsdhlsdfjasdlk those sure are some ‘scottish’ accents flsadkjhkdsjahfsd

- scott relieved to finally be able to cede the position of ‘charles xavier’s least favourite son’ to someone else fjsaklfhsajd (poor scott it’s not your fault honey)

supremely cowardly to suggest there is an ex-wife involved rather than charles slutting his way around the british isles back in the day but okay

- kurt with a cold is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. it’s okay kid it’ll get better soon

- ...is there an implication here that professor x is naturally blond. because I am losing my entire little mind about it (i mean he at least has to carry the gene, as does this lady?)

ETA: upon doing some research into this I can indeed confirm that charles xavier does seem to be naturally blond, and after this knowledge I will never be the same

- “listen, dracula” fskdafghasd oh scott you sweet baby angel I love you

- I know jean’s abilities are a bit ‘as strong or as weak as the plot needs right now’ at this point (so you can have the setup for what’s going to happen with them eventually and she’s basically invincible ;____;), and normally I’m cool with it but god I want her to just squash lucas like a little bug

- ewwwww please don’t ever say ‘daddy’ like that again

- ...what the fuck is even going on this episode’s a mess

like okay the split personality thing could be something but the way it’s done... what just happened lol

- MY BOY EVAN IS BACK! with a real glowup too (...though kind of weird how he suddenly looks like a grown man)

- augh scott’s eyes are so pretty oh my god ;__________________________;

- that episode in the first season where evan makes the ‘this is my new family!!’ video is so sad now (also, again, his poor poor parents)

- time for: life affirming road trip with gambit (involuntary) faskljdfhaskjd

stunt therapist remy lebeau

- I mean the way he goes about it is batshit insane and it’s very much secondary to what he’s actually up to but this is the first time rogue’s sounded genuinely hopeful and confident and like herself in like a season <3

- he is disconcertingly pleased about her nearly throwing him off the train, and may I just say I agree it’s so nice to see rogue with her old fire back

- the first time I watched this it was of course dubbed into norwegian, so I had no idea either of these characters were southern lol (though to be fair I probably wouldn’t have had much context for what it meant exactly either, I was like ten at the time and not too interested in america) I seem to dimly remember the norwegian voice actor did a little more of a ‘french’-tinged accent for gambit all over tho haha

- you know what respect where it’s due, pyro dude knows to live his life for the lols and one has to admire his sociopathic dedication to it

interesting that he, too, seems to have fucking hated magneto -- I wonder if the implication here is that he kept all the acolytes in line with blackmail or by keeping something/one hostage? (except sabertooth maybe he’d just have to say ‘you get to fuck shit up and fight wolverine’ and that’d be enough)

- fsdakfhsd he’s so focused on her he doesn’t notice that guy about to hit him fkafhsa

- fuck everything else except whatever the hell these two’ve got going on

- it’s weirdly cathartic to have rogue have a conversation with someone who was not happily adopted as well, I don’t think kurt like. gets it because his parents loved him unconditionally and still do

birds of a feather motherfucker

- fun detail: when the x-men team are on the shore and logan is sniffing around scott is stepping in something and trying to wipe it off his boots in the background

- when he wakes up after passing out from the touch he’s smiling even though she’s standing over him looking like the rage of god outlined by the moon fsajfsa well the last time he passed out like that it was from a kiss, maybe he still has some hopes and dreams in that direction lol (also he recovers from the tumble down the hill first and is checking on her before accidentally brushing her cheek with his hand, which I thought was sweet)

and it was in that moment he knew he fucked up *passes out*

- ‘I can explain’ can u remy. can u

- did it ever even occur to you to just. ask her. to help you. I mean I know it didn’t but like rogue’s always one second away from throwing hands with some bully and is stupidly ride or die, if you’d given her the puppydog eyes she would have crumbled immediately (fair enough I guess this entire episode is telling us he’s not from a background where he has much experience with people just helping him without a price haha)

- his eyes glowing when he’s angry or upset or using a lot of his power is undeniably cool as all hell. I’m just saying it would be Big Sexy if they sort of flickered with light in moments of genuine vulnerability okay

- his coat... his coat is what makes the Silhouette tm and I could not be happier about it

- another parent of the year contestant enters the running lol “hey remy have you ever considered that you’re more of a walking bomb factory than a person? that’s certainly how I think of you hahaha c’mon kid let’s go”

- the running joke of jean luc getting dollar signs in his eyes seeing the other mutant powers and gambit being like ‘nO!!!!’ and pulling him along is amazing haha

- from the way he looks when he touches rogue accidentally and the way he talks to his dad I’m sort of getting the feeling this gambit might actually be a bit younger than he looks?

here too -- idk why but it’s making the ‘wait is he baby???’ alarms go off in my head haha. very early twenties at most.

- and we’ve officially seen him with all the face cards in the heart suit folks! (yes this is the sort of thing my brain notices no I don’t know either)

- poor logan running his ass off this whole episode in a panic and then she’s like ‘nah he’s fine (in several meanings of the word ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) please put him down’ hfaskfsda

- rogue without makeup!!! her eyes look so naked like this haha <3

- oooh here’s a really interesting thing that tickles my brain a bit in this specific part of the scene where gambit frees his dad -- the part where he’s leaning against the door frame waiting for jean luc, who’s about to suggest using the opportunity to ruin the rival gang from the inside rather than slipping away while they still can

from his expression here he knows what’s about to happen, what jean luc is about to say, and it’s clearly a ‘man who thought he’d lost all hope loses last additional bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of situation. he KNOWS what jean luc is like, and it still hurts that he really, honestly can’t give him even this, can’t appreciate that remy’s already done all this shit for him when he extremely didn’t have to, without immediately (no really, it took him less than ten seconds to go there? jesus) demanding more.

remy tells him “I’m just here for you” and jean luc does not understand it. remy seems to be sincere in this motivation -- rogue certainly thinks so, having experienced it second hand and found enough at least emotional merit in it to decide he was worth saving even after all his bullshit (lol a bit of a running theme maybe. I think it’s very telling that after she absorbed mystique she was like ‘what the FUCK you’re a fucking monster’, and after she absorbed gambit she went ‘you did the wrong thing for the right reasons’ after she got over the first wave of outrage)

there’s also what he says as he stands there: “You don’t need me for that”, with the distinct implication that jean luc would only keep him around because he has a use for him and for no other reason -- and then jean luc shamelessly doubles down on that by specifying that it’s not even him he’s got a use for as such, just his powers. that’s some kicking puppies level of deliberately missing the point, it’s almost impressive in how cheerfully mean it is haha

this idea of using people is really important in this episode because remy’s doing basically exactly the same thing to rogue to begin with; it doesn’t really matter to his plan that it’s her that’s with him through this, just what her powers are. (I think it’s p r e t t y solidly implied that he does actually like her a lot outside of that too and maybe there is some comfort in having her around for this, but mostly he’s behind a smokescreen of lies through the whole thing sooo I doubt he’s even aware of it, honestly)

but then it does matter that it’s her when she comes back for him, even after what he did. and unlike jean luc he understands what that means, that she did that for him, and that she didn’t have to. and instead of asking her for more, in return he gives her the thing it’s been established is what he considers the most valuable thing he has; his ‘last card’, the thing he’s credited with keeping him alive many a time, basically. it’s gone from using to mutuality, a tentative place of friendship, and at the end of the day he is a different man than his adoptive father, with a capacity for selflessness and love he lacks. which is of course some of the same stuff going on with rogue and mystique too, except rogue acted from a more fragile and unstable place and did something she regrets, or at least has a LOT of doubts about now, and she found some catharsis in helping someone make a different choice in a similar situation. man there’s some Stuff going on under the surface here haha

(by the way it’s a weirdly... meaningless yet intensely meaningful thing, the gifting of a symbol? of an idea? but he’s putting something very crucial of himself into her hands, is the subtext, and he expects her to understand, which she also does seem to do. at the beginning of the episode he’s proving that he’s seen something true about her -- “You’re such an unhappy girl”, knowing where she comes from, the way she’s mourning her lost confidence and autonomy with her abilities -- and here she’s proving she’s seen something true about him. :’) I wish this show had gone on long enough for this dynamic to progress, it’s really interesting and touching)

- gambit dragging himself up onto dry land seeing someone approaching (to help?!): :D

gambit seeing that it’s logan and the look on his face: D:

- rogue using her powers so confidently and fearlessly in this episode tho!!!!

- *me crying* and then her FAMBILY comes to take her home and he says he’s looking out for her too and kurt still loves her even though they’re having a conflict thing between them and she’s finally able to use her powers without so much fear again and --

- ...did I just watch some baby lesbian love at first sight shit right now???

- okay last two episodes let’s go

- HELL YEAH STORM (I love that she’s like ‘don’t give me a dumb order like that and I won’t have to disobey it’ too sdfjsaj) her voice has such command I’m usually very much not the ‘step on me’ type butttt

- y’know I feel like apocalypse’s main fault across all versions I’ve seen of him is that he’s like an immortal superpowered god king and he’s not even sexy. like at least make him hot if he’s going to be insufferable in every other way

- also callout post for apocalypse: one time he made gambit into the Horseman of Death... and didn’t even make him sexy!!! you were handed remy lebeau, supreme bi disaster slut of the x men universe, and you couldn’t even make his brainwashed superpowered evil side hot?? a beautiful stubbled twunk with glowing red eyes and extremely charming :> face practically delivers himself into your hands and you do that to him???? I mean I’m sure apocalypse did some other bad stuff too but that was the worst one

(comics are so dumb y’all)

- having to watch jean cry is emotional terrorism!! ;___; she has such older sister/mom energy, whenever she gets sad and helpless it hurts

- oh, OH so PROFESSOR X you’ll make into a hunk and ~*strategically*~ rip his clothes to show off a nipple and a flawless pec in a way that makes me extremely uncomfortable because he’s like The Dad??? apocalypse you are rotten to the core this is unforgivable

- so wait wanda never actually gets her real memories back. what the FuCk I hope that was a dropped storyline because they ended the show tragically prematurely rather than like. the plan

- why is spyke calling storm ‘storm’ show that’s his auntie o!! >:(

- as a society we need to acknowledge that apocalypse looks like a fucking clown

- ooooh yeah I have been thinking that this show’s greatest visual weakness so far has been not having a visual way to show telepathy/battles of the minds, but this is a pretty cool way to do it! better late than never

- I’m so happy rogue gets to end this herself, since she was forced into starting it against her will, it’s just nice and neat storytelling

- YEAH FUCKING TELL HER KURT AND ROGUE I AM SO PROUD OF YOU and she has the temerity to look pissed off oh my god

the only valid thing mystique has done in her entire life is be in love with destiny. literally everything else she gets up to is a travesty. like I know objectively she’s hot but my loathing for her stops me from even appreciating it. I do enjoy loathing her tho so please don’t change her haha

(a bit odd to have kurt’s attitude to her swing so much but I’m just going to assume he and rogue had a good long conversation after ‘cajun spice’ and that he understands what’s going on better now)

- this last part is such a cruel tease faskdfhsdaj ‘here are all the cool-ass things we had planned. sucks you never get to see it huh’ im devastated

- magneto without his helmet and playing charmingly with children like charles is going ‘well at least I saved my marriage finally’ fsadkhfjsd (honestly tho I would be super interested in seeing how they’d redeem this magneto because he’s been a real bitch the whole time lol)

there’s an interesting thing here where magneto looks down at wanda as the last thing he does on screen before this epilogue part (yeah I hope it fucking haunts you forever what you did to her erik you absolute piece of hot garbage) and the last thing charles does is look at jean b/c he knows what’s going to happen to her and it breaks his heart... Dramatic Parallells

- just the hint of jean as the phoenix has me in full D:D:D: mode tho maybe I wouldn’t have survived it

- gambit in the last groupshot with his arm around rogue ;^) I mean I’m sure they’re headed for some turns and roundabouts along the way but what’s that thing she says as her wedding vow, that she’ll always find her way back? anyway that got me in my heart

- man I really wish this show had been given more seasons, we were barely even getting warmed up here :’(

#x men evolution #x men #gambit #rogue x gambit #aaah this is like therapy for me... just dumping all my emotions into a tumblr post and then let them go into the ether #I am now wondering if I'm desperate enough to go all the way back to the x-men animated series (which I've never seen before!)#like am I willing to go there for more Contente. time will tell I suppose #happy tag #...this is very long #MAN why can't I channel this dumbass energy into fiction writing I'd get so much DONE

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plotting-against-you · 3 years

Text

Hold You, Console You, Really Get to Know You

Fandom: Nancy Drew (TV 2019)

Characters: Ryan Hudson, Nancy Drew

Synopsis: He knew a panic attack when he saw one. He’d had a few of them throughout his life, and he knew that Lucy had too, but he never wanted his child to experience anything like it. Knowing that he and Lucy had passed on this terrible disease to their baby made him feel awful, but at least he knew how to help.

Prompt: Based on a prompt I received from ao3: "Could you do one where, while Ryan is living with them, he sees Nancy having a panic attack and learns she has anxiety and depression she calls him dad as well."

Warnings: Anxiety, Depression, Mental Illness, Panic/Anxiety Attacks

The sky was dark outside the Drew household as Ryan settled himself deep into the couch to watch a documentary on Netflix. Ever since moving in with his daughter and her adoptive father, he’d found that he didn’t mind a quiet night watching television alone now that he knew he wasn’t actually alone.

Living with Nancy and Carson—and subsequently, Bess—was definitely something to adjust to, he’d realized pretty quickly. Not only was he not alone, he now had two people in his life who had their own lives and jobs and places to be. Sometimes that made him anxious and a bit lonely; sometimes, like tonight, he was grateful for the out-of-town trips and girls’ nights.

Carson had left early that morning for a weekend trip to Boston, which didn’t surprise either Hudson descendant. He was still trying to build up his practice again, and neither Ryan nor Nancy were children, so they were capable of taking care of themselves.

When Bess announced at breakfast that morning that they were doing a girls’ night at a local hotel with George, Nancy hadn’t seemed too pleased but had smiled and agreed with the plan. He knew they wanted some time with their newly engaged friend, and though a part of him wished she’d stay home and log some one-on-one father-daughter time with him, he knew he had to take the moments where he could get them.

But as he flipped through the choices onscreen, he was startled by the text that reached his phone. Fumbling to find the device in his pocket, his brow furrowed as a message from Bess lit up in front of him.

“Sorry to bother you. Has Nancy left yet?”

He quickly typed out a reply to his new housemate and waited for her next response. “Uh, no? I thought she was with you.”

Bess’ response took longer than he’d like to come through, but finally, his phone rang again. “Oops, my bad! I forgot that she had to stop for a few things. She probably just got caught up at the store. No need to worry!”

He narrowed his eyes at the words and sat up again. To any other person, this might have sounded like a perfectly reasonable explanation. But they were talking about Nancy Drew, and anything regarding his daughter had extra layers that needed exploring.

He knew she hadn’t seemed too excited about the overnight, but she wasn’t the type of person to blow off her friends like this.

Just as he opened the text message thread he shared with her, a loud thud sounded above him that had him rising from the couch. He knew that Nancy’s room shared a floor/ceiling with the living room and hesitated only briefly.

With everything that she and her friends got into on a daily basis, part of him considered the idea that there was some sort of ghost or being haunting her bedroom. It wouldn’t be entirely out of the question as she’d mentioned seeing Lucy in there more than once, but then he thought back to Bess’ text and found himself moving quickly.

The stairs creaked under his weight as he ascended the stairs, and when he got to the top, he was met with an eerie silence. “Nancy? You here?”

There was no response besides a slight creaking sound that came from within her room. Either Nancy was home, and he’d somehow missed it, or her room was haunted, and he would probably need to call her home anyway.

He wasn’t sure which option he preferred at this point.

“Nance?” Ryan turned the doorknob gently in his hand and was met with a dimly lit room that looked much more disturbed than when he’d seen it that morning.

The first thing he noticed was that her floor was covered in the newspaper clippings and journal entries that had once littered her bulletin board. Then he saw that one of her windows was wide open and paused.

What if someone had broken in? He didn’t have anything to defend himself, and he’d left his phone downstairs, so he couldn’t even call for help.

He was just about to back out of the room and find something to use as a possible weapon when he caught sight of a familiar purse on the floor next to the window and sighed.

No one had broken in, Ryan realized, except for the person whose room he was now standing in.

Walking carefully to the bag, he crouched down to retrieve it and any clue he could find as to why Nancy might have snuck into her own house when he caught sight of her closet door slightly ajar. Sighing heavily, he walked over to it and felt his chest tighten at the scene in front of him.

Nancy sat on the floor, her arms resting on the knees she’d drawn tightly to her chest, with her head hiding in the protective bubble she’d created. Her hands were shaking, and he could see her foot tapping softly in a fast rhythm that kept no beat.

Ryan didn’t speak right away but quietly lowered himself so that he could sit next to her. He shuffled backward so that his back was against the small closet wall and made sure he was close enough where she could feel his presence and not feel crowded by him.

“Hey.” He kept his voice low and calm. “If I had known you wanted to stay here tonight, I could have come up with some excuse for you.”

She didn’t reply or even react, to his light teasing, letting him know that something was seriously wrong with his little girl. It made his chest hurt again.

All he wanted was for her to be happy; he hated seeing her as anything but herself.

“I don’t know what happened today or if there’s even a logical reason for these feelings, but either way, Nancy, I’m here. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere until it passes, okay?”

He knew a panic attack when he saw one. He’d had a few of them throughout his life, and he knew that Lucy had too, but he never wanted his child to experience anything like it. Knowing that he and Lucy had passed on this terrible disease to their baby made him feel awful, but at least he knew how to help.

“It’s too much.”

Looking down at her, Ryan’s brow lifted in curiosity. “What’s too much?”

“I did it again.”

“You did what?” His voice was still quiet and calm, but inside he longed to hold her close and protect her from the world.

She moved then, lifting her head and digging her hands painfully into her hair. “I cursed the town. Again.”

“I thought you guys had fixed the security boxes and had gotten a lot of the spirits that had been let out?” She’d told him and Carson about her desperate attempt to save George and the resulting hauntings that came from it.

She shook her head frantically, and he now saw how pale her face had become. “When…when we reversed the Wraith attachment…I didn’t know it was her.”

“It’s okay….”

She cut him off. “No, it’s not okay. I had to…I had to provide blood to get the machine going again. But I gave too much, and now…now she’s back, and she’s cursed Horseshoe Bay because of me.”

Ryan was extremely lost. “Who is back?”

He chose not to comment on her ‘I gave too much blood’ story for the moment.

“Temperance Hudson. Our ancestor.” She said and only then looked up at him.

Tears swam in her red-rimmed blue eyes, and her bottom lip quivered. Her gaze was desperate, and she looked much younger than the strong twenty-year-old he was privileged enough to see every day.

“Can you just…leave me alone, please?” Her voice shook and was thick with tears.

He shook his head as soon as the words were out. “I can’t do that, Nancy.”

“Please.” She begged him, closing her eyes and letting a waterfall of tears run down her cheeks.

He sighed. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know that would happen, and you needed to use the device to save your life. Whatever comes next, we can deal with it, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

She let out a sob now, and it tore at his heart. “Listen, this might sound weird, but can you do me a favor?” She didn’t respond, so he took that as his cue to continue. “Name five things you know.”

She looked up at him again, this time with confusion on her face, but did as she was told. “Um…uh, I brought our murderous ancestor back from the dead.” He didn’t like that she started with that but let it slide for now. “Carson is out of town. I am supposed to be doing girls’ night with George and Bess right now. You’re sitting next to me. We’re in a closet?”

She said the last part as if she’d just now realized where they were, but he moved forward. “Now, four things you can feel.”

She blinked. “My clothes hanging above my head. My hair in my hands. My shoes are tied too tight.” Then she paused.

“Come on, one more.” He coached her.

She bit her lip and grabbed his hand in her own. “You.”

He felt her squeeze his hand tightly as if she was afraid he wasn’t real and squeezed back. The fact that she’d initiated the touch helped ease the tension in his chest.

“Three things you see.”

“Again, you.” She sent him a weak smile. “My bed. The mess I made on my floor.”

“Okay, two things you can hear.”

She paused again before speaking. “Your voice. My breathing.”

He nodded. “One thing you can either smell or taste.”

“Burnt popcorn?”

“Oh shit.” He’d forgotten about the snack he’d started preparing and hoped the smoke detector didn’t go off.

She chuckled at his comment and slumped against him, seemingly exhausted. “What was that?”

He sighed and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. “That was something I learned from my therapist a long time ago. How do you feel now?”

Nancy groaned. “Tired. Worried. Embarrassed.”

“Hey,” He shook his head. “you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.”

They sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again.

“So, I didn’t know you had anxiety.”

It was her turn to sigh, and she moved out of his touch. Standing, she offered him a hand, and they moved to sit on her bed. Then she moved, so she was leaning against her headboard and looked past him.

“I didn’t, or I thought I didn’t until Ted went missing.”

He looked at her in confusion. “George’s sister?”

The redhead nodded. “Yeah. I, uh, I noticed during that case that there were a lot of similarities to the Rose Turnbull case from when I was younger.”

“Your first case, right?” He remembered reading it in the paper.

And if he had gone to the Horseshoe Bay Gazette and asked for a copy of the original article to keep in his wallet, well…he didn’t tell anyone about it.

“I went back to the warehouse where Nathan Gomber…where I found her that day.” She told him. “Carson came with me, and we pieced together that something happened to me down there, too.”

“Did he hurt you? Gomber. If he put his hands on you….” The surge of panic and fear that rose in his body was stilled by her hand capturing his again.

“No. He didn’t…no.” She thought for a moment. “I heard him speaking to this…thing…in the dark. He called it Si-Simon.”

She was getting worked up again, so he moved closer. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about this if it’s….”

Nancy shook her head. “Simon, uh, he made…he made us forget. That’s what he does to children. He causes them to forget what happened. My parents, they took me to a therapist after that. Carson told me I was so calm when they got there…too calm.”

“What did this Simon make you forget?” He was afraid to know, but he knew she needed to get it out.

Tears filled her eyes again. “I was so scared, Dad.”

His breath caught in his throat at the term. She’d never used it before, and though he hoped she would one day, he hadn’t been prepared for the onslaught of feelings that came with it.

“I thought I was going to die.” She continued. “I never would have seen Carson and Kate again. I would never have met my friends…or you. I would never have known my other father, and it just…I can’t imagine it now.”

“But you didn’t die.” He said, emotion filling the ferocity in his voice. “You beat this Simon. Twice, it sounds like.”

“Yeah, I did.” She swallowed thickly. “When I burned the vigil that Gomber and his girlfriend had built for him, it broke his power and brought all these…these feelings back. Fear, anxiety, despair. I haven’t been able to get away from them since.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” He told her sincerely. “I know that doesn’t help you at all, but I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you through it all. I am now.”

She sniffed back the tears and nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You know I love hearing that, but don’t feel like you have to say it. Say it when you’re ready.” He told her.

“I am ready.” She cleared her throat. “It’s nice to have two parents again, and…you are my dad.”

“Yes, I am. And as long as I’m around, I will do everything I can to keep you safe from things like Gomber and Simon. Even Temperance Hudson.” He squeezed her hand again.

A few tears rolled down her cheeks again. “Please. I know you can’t realistically make this promise, but…please don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone again.”

“Nancy…” He moved so that his knees touched hers and put his hands on her face, forcing her to look directly at him. “I promise. I’m not going anywhere. You’ll never be alone. Ever.”

Then he pulled her to his chest again and held her as she gripped his shirt. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one worried about being alone in this life.

They sat there until she calmed down before pulling away again.

“Hey, you know if you are too wiped out to do girls’ night, I can text Bess and come up with an excuse.” He told her, causing her to smile.

“Thanks, but I think I’m okay now.” She squeezed his hand again. “Maybe tomorrow we could do dinner and watch a movie?”

Now it was his turn to smile. “Definitely.”

He helped her up and waited as she gathered her things. Then he watched from the front door as she backed out of the driveway, waving to him before she drove off.

Moving back to the couch, he picked up his phone and scrolled through the numbers he’d saved to his contacts. They’d changed a bit since he found out Nancy was his daughter—having then added the entire group just in case—but he didn’t mind it. Finding the name he was looking for, he pressed it and settled back against the cushions as he waited for the person to answer.

“Hannah Gruen? Yeah, Ryan Hudson.” He paused. “Uh-huh. I need a favor. I need you to tell me everything you or Nancy and her friends have learned about my ancestor Temperance Hudson.”

He wasn’t sure what he’d learn, but at least he’d be prepared for whatever came next.

#cw nancy drew #nancy drew fanfiction #nancy drew #ryan hudson #nancy drew & ryan hudson

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deniigi · 4 years

Note

bro, work made me depressed that I literally left my seat to regain any resemblance of joy or something equivalent before breaking down again. Do you think you can provide a ficlet I involving Peter and Sam to cheer me up?

FUCK CAPITALISM

TAKE THIS

Title: Calibrating

Summary: Sam and Peter talk themselves towards a meaningful discussion.

---------

Peter did this thing—this infuriating thing where he texted shit like ‘come over’ and then Sam had to bend over backwards to be flirty and coy.

It was imperative that he came across as flirty and coy.

Im-fucking-perative, regardless of what Leilani said or Matt’s annoyance at what he called the ‘jungle of depravity’ that overtook the group chat pretty much daily.

Sam didn’t care.

If Peter texted the group or sent any message that might be construed upside-down as something romantic or sexual, Sam not only had to catch it, but he had to volley it back.

This, he told Leilani, sealed their No-Homo contract.

She stared at him.

He decided to demonstrate.

“See, here, look, I’ll show you,” he said, dragging out his phone. “Exhibit A. There he is, see? Asking about the strength of PVC pipe in pounds per meter like a fuckin’ tease. Now I can’t just let him think that I saw that and didn’t think of it as a metaphor, alright? So I say—”

“Sam, why does he need to know the strength of PVC pipe?” Leilani interrupted.

It didn’t matter. That wasn’t the point of this discussion.

“I’m sending a winky-face,” Sam informed her as he did that very thing.

Leilani stared harder than before.

But look, skepticism was unrewarded. Peter texted a kiss right back and said ‘oh boo, you always know just want to say.’

How could she not see the No-Homo? Sam could do this all day. He could and there would be absolutely no problems and he wouldn’t want to suffocate himself in his pillow at the end of it all.

It was fine.

“Samuel,” Leilani said, “I’m going to tell you something and I want you to hear it with an open heart. Will you open your heart for me?”

Sam spun around in his chair and arranged his arms and legs so that they were as open as they could feasibly be without being obscene.

“I am more open than a boiled clam,” he informed her.

Leilani blinked slowly, then shook her head and checked over her shoulders. She waved him in closer. Then closer. And then close enough that he could smell her perfume on her neck.

“You’re the tease,” she said.

Then she left the backroom. And Sam could only stare after her, frozen in horror as his wide-open heart wrinkled in on itself, picking up mass and gravity until it was naught but a black hole.

“I’m the tease?” he whispered to himself in shock.

Oh no.

OH NO.

“SENSEI.”

Matt dropped his collection of folders and swore, clutching at his chest.

“We have discussed volume, Sam,” he said, bending down to collect his paper children.

Sam took the opportunity to throw both arms around his neck from behind as a threat.

“Don’t lie,” he warned. “Swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, amen.”

Matt stood up and Sam felt his toes leave the floor. He hadn’t planned this far ahead.

“Or what?” Matt asked, 110% unfazed.

Sam wished that his feet weren’t kicking around in air here. It really put a dent in his intimidation factor.

“Am I a tease?” he asked.

Matt faced front with heavy eyebrows. Sam couldn’t see his face from this angle, but he knew that aura of irritation.

“If you have to ask the question, then you already know the answer,” Matt said. “Does that help?”

“No, I hate you now, actually,” Sam told him.

Matt dropped him right on his ass.

There had to be a way to attain proof. To determine once and for all that it was Sam who was in the wrong here, misinterpreting things like the genius that he was.

Thankfully, Sam’s experience of growing up as a non-only child for the last two decades had prepared him exactly for this type of conversation.

SC: HANNAH AM I A TEASE???

HC: yes

HC: next question

SC: FUCK.

SC: WHAT IF ITS NOT NO-HOMO?

HC: my dear brother, the only options if something is not no-homo is for it to be no-no or homo-homo.

SC: Murder me

HC: gladly

SC: I’m in possible homo-homo with spiderman

HC: are you sure it’s not no-no?

SC: MURDER ME

HC: okay but like if it’s no-no then this is not a problem, right?

SC: If it’s no-no then I’ve read every sign wrong and I deserve to become a partially eaten tadpole awash in an indifferent boiling sea

HC: okay so we’re leaning INTO the drama today I gotcha. Alright but like, just for the sake of arguing, what if it was homo-homo?

SC: then I need you to bury my body somewhere no one will ever find it because my heart can’t stand requited love you know this about me.

HC: give me your login

SC: thank you I love you you’re the only person who matters

BT: Spiderman.

SM: Blindspot. DMing? You okay?

BT: this is Hannah.

SM: OH

SM: hi Hannah are you okay? Did you need something?

BT: My brother never got tested for reading comprehension but would have failed anyways. Can you arbitrate an arbitrary argument for us?

SM: I’m positive that there is a link between those two ideas that I am missing, but sure?

BT: okay are you ready?

SM: my loins have been girded.

BT: gross. you two are made for each other. Okay: what are your opinions on 24yo Chinese dudes with bad vision who are 5’7” tall, with terrible hair and brains as big and gaseous as Jupiter?

SM: positive

BT: you’re so romantic spidey.

SM: I know

BT: I’m going to tell him now

SM: WAIT DON’T TELL HIM

BT: byeeeeeee

Sam was going to have a heart attack. He couldn’t look at his phone. He was just going to lay here until he wasted away into a fossil.

Mm, yes, what a wonderful way to escape any and all feelings. That was—

His phone chirped and he nearly fell out of his chair in a hurry to answer it.

HC: [image] [image]

HC: you owe me your bones

SC: AFASDFADFAS:FJaf’asdfjahsdlfihasdl’fas

SC: TAKE THEM

HC: if you fuck spiderman you have to get pregnant and demand alimony for your beautiful mixed babies Samuel

SC: Darling sister, we’ve talked about this. it isn’t going to happen I still have yet to steal a womb

HC: try harder

HC: ttyl

Okay, this was fine.

Everything was fine.

Spidey liked Sam back, it was no big deal. Spidey liked everyone back. Even the teases.

Even.

The.

Teases.

Fuck, Sam had to move.

Foggy caught him biting his nails to pieces over the copy machine and asked him if he was okay. He was not. Foggy could read this off him. He didn’t ask again, but he did say that if Sam was feeling particularly anxious about something he was welcome to go have his breakdown upstairs in Kirsten’s kitchen instead of downstairs among the files.

Sam appreciated his offer. He hiked up the stairs, and halfway up, his phone chirped.

His heart stopped.

It chirped again, and then again. By the time he got to the top of the stairs, it was chirping every couple of seconds with messages being typed and sent at mach speed.

He kicked off his shoes and went to go stand over Kirsten’s sink to open the first one.

PP: Sam it’s peter hey listen your sister messaged me

PP: and was asking some pretty invasive questions and I replied to her. I don’t know if you saw them but I just wanted to say that if that makes you uncomfortable in any way know that I absolutely don’t mind and I’ll stop

PP: you can tell me to fuck off if that crossed your boundaries. I shouldn’t have even messaged her back without asking you

PP: and obviously in future I won’t talk to her until I’ve cleared it with you I just wasn’t thinking I’m never thinking it’s a little hard to think sometimes

PP: especially when you message me back and I get caught up in the games and the emojis and stuff and like I’m sure that sometimes I overstep but I don’t mean to and you can tell me at any point if you want me to stop

PP: I guess I just really like to talk to you sometimes and it’s fun to have someone to banter with who actually banters back like not in a mean way but in a really nice and funny way. you’re an easy guy to talk to is what I’m saying

PP: which I’m sure you get a lot. I don’t mean that I want to like tell you all my problems I swear it’s not that it’s just more of a AHHHHH I don’t even know what I’m saying I think it’s sorry???

PP: I’m sorry??? I don’t mean to imply anything that isn’t there and I don’t want to make you feel like you have to either. Ar e you mad? Please don’t be mad okay wait no I’ve sent like seven fucking messages I’m being a creep oh my god IM SORRY ILL SHUT UP NOW OKAY SORRY BYE

Oh nooooo.

The panic-induced infodump was not only familiar but horrendously endearing.

Sam had to explode now.

Man. Bummer.

SC: it’s okay Peter

PP: OH THANK GOD

PP: is it tho??? Are you sure?

SC: I have positive feelings towards people like you too

Sam’s heart pounded. He almost locked his phone and threw it in the sink, but another text came in just as that thought finished crossing his mind.

PP: you do?

SC: yes of course I do

PP: oh nice

SC: yeah

Annnnnnnd cue mutual nerd awkwardness. Great. Well done, Sam, you’ve done it again.

He sighed and turned away from the sink and sunk down onto the floor with his back against it.

Such a loser, Chung. So painfully awkward. Would it kill you to, just for once, slow down and chill for a minute?

God.

PP: hey sam?

No, Sam just wanted to sit on this floor and wallow.

PP: hello? Are you still there?

Sam let his head fall back against the sink. He closed his eyes.

His phone rang in his hand and he nearly had a heart attack. His fingers scrabbled over its face and the caller ID read ‘Peter Parker.’

Oh god.

Oh no.

Be cool. Be cool. Be cool.

“Hello?” he answered to the scratchy phone silence on the other side of the line.

He frowned.

“Hello?” he tried again, a smidge less desperate.

“Hi.”

There he was.

“Hey,” Sam said. “Sorry, just got awkward.”

Peter laughed through the line.

“Me too,” he said. “That was awkward.”

Yeah.

“Yeah.”

A long pause.

“I’m doing it again,” Sam moaned into his hand.

“No, no. Hey, you’re good,” Peter said. “I was just uh. Calling because.” He trailed off.

Sam waited.

“Sam? You still there?”

He startled and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said. “Sorry, zoning out a little bit. You know, busy day.”

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Yeah, I know.”

Sam breathed as quietly as he could. He could almost hear Peter doing the same on his end.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta g—” Sam started.

“Hey, do you like me?”

HNG.

“No?” Sam answered and then punched himself in the leg. “Sorry. Uh. I didn’t—I mean, uh. Yes. Of course I like you. You’re a really good person. I admire you a lot.”

Hannah, oh Hannah, where is thine shovel? Sam needed it to dig this grave deeper, please.

“Oh. Okay, I just—I guess I uh, have a hard time reading the tone of your texts sometimes,” Peter said.

“It’s okay, I get that a lot,” Sam said. “I’ll try harder to be more direct.”

“No,” Peter said. “No, no, you don’t have to change anything.”

“Oh? Okay, well. Maybe I still will, though,” Sam said.

If Peter wouldn’t have heard him, he would have started to try to fit his whole fist in his mouth.

Five minutes of conversation and they were still saying nothing.

“Sam?”

He swallowed.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Next time you’re in the city, would you, uh, maybe want to go out somewhere? With me?”

Out? What like, to a movie or something?

“Yeah, just like that,” Peter said. “’Cause I uh. Would like to. Do that, I mean. With you.”

“With me?” Sam asked. “Oh right, and your other friends, uh, names—sorry, I’m bad with names. N-ned?”

“No,” Peter said oddly abruptly. “Well, I mean—I don’t mean it like that. I just—just with you. For now. That’s what I mean.”

“Oh. Uh. Kinda like a date?” Sam asked through the forcefield of self-hatred that felt like it spanned the entire continental US.

There was a pause. Sam held his breath.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Exactly like a date. If you don’t mind—you know, doing that with me.”

AHAHAHAHAHAHA.

“Are you trying to lure me to a secondary location, Mr. Parker?” Sam asked seriously.

The laugh that met him made all the muscles in his shoulders relax.

“Maybe if the bit at the first location goes well,” Peter said. Then added hurriedly, “If you’re down for that.”

Sam was down for it right now.

Actually, maybe not in Kirsten’s kitchen. But like, right now in a different location.

“If it’s a movie date, we can do it through Netflix Party,” he pointed out faux-lightly. “It wouldn’t be the same, but we could do it this weekend, even. Saturday—I’m off Saturday.”

Peter said nothing for a long time.

“Okay. Saturday,” he finally agreed, “I can do Saturday. Kinda hard to hold your hand through a screen, but I can give it my best shot?”

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFfffffff.

“Oh, I bet you will,” Sam nearly choked.

“You’re really cute, Sam.”

NO. SHUT UP. YOU ARE.

“Thanks.”

“I wanted to kiss you last time you were here, but I was too, uh. Shy. Embarrassed. One of them.”

Sam was going to puke, but in like, the happiest kind of way.

“I like you a lot too, Peter,” he whispered.

“Are you crying?”

“What? No.”

“Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.”

“Shut up, I’m not. I—the old man’s downstairs, his ears aren’t as good through ceilings, but I just want to make sure—”

“Uh-huh,” Peter said. “I’m sure that’s what it is. So I’ll see you Saturday? Maybe Facetime or something?”

“Yeah, Saturday,” Sam said. “I’ll send you a time when I know. I’ve gotta go. Meltdown-alloted-breaktime is over.”

Peter laughed.

“Alright, man, I’ll talk to you later. Bye now.”

“Bye,” Sam said lamely.

He hung up the phone. He did not scream. But he did fist pump and then fall onto his side.

---------

Here’s to hoping things get easier for you anon!!

#fic #ficlet #btsm #samuel chung #peter parker #I just love them being awkward nerds with each other #I JUST WANT THEM TO KISS AND THEN CRY A LITTLE ABOUT IT ITS FINE

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yanderecandystore · 3 years

Note

may i please get a small fic about the loveshrooms?

I didn't expect anyone to like the idea, but I'm so glad you did!

I was going to bring a Yan Bakugou into the mix but- I felt like I could end up disappointing you in a way so I'll just leave it as a ambiguous character, what do you think?

Also, love shrooms is actually a really good name lol!

TW/Tags: loss of sanity and mentions of depressive thoughts // fungal contamination and mentions of diseases (and quarantine) // none gender specific (neither the reader or the character mentioned have their gender assigned) // touch starving // victim blaming mentality.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

In need of help [Yandere!Virus/Fungus x Reader - Short Fanfiction]:

They were laying in their bed, wondering what the hell was happening with their body. It's been a week since they started to feel this way, endless headaches, hot burning skin temperature yet a feeling of always being cold dominated them, as if they were naked in the middle of a blizzard.

One day they started feeling dizzy while they were at work, so their boss has told them to go back home and rest, and they haven't gone back to their jobs in a full week because of some random sickness they got!

That's what they thought back then, they thought that this was all just a little flu that had ruined their days, but no, it turned out to be something completely more different than that.

They have heard about some sort of disease outbreak happening in their town, something that was still fairly new and mysterious to even the highest of doctors and world leaders. It was so sudden, out of nowhere people started to show symptoms of some sort of new illness, something that develops slowly yet quietly.

The contaminated would feel all that they were feeling right now, if not worse, since a lot of contaminated have shown some weird aggressive behavior randomly. Those that were contaminated were told to limit their contact with other people, some were privileged enough to be able to stay in hospitals receiving professional care, but they couldn't do that, they didn't want to believe that they were contaminated by some stupid looking fungus.

They just… Really, really didn't want to see a doctor, even if the symptoms are getting worse and worse, something forced them to keep their mouth shut. They didn't want to go to a hospital, they didn't want any doctors or scientists experimenting on them, they didn't want to be trapped inside that pearly white hell.

They heard rumours about servers experiments being done inside each hospital available, which caused the contaminated to get even more desperate to get out of there.

The thing is, no one knows if the contaminated were the ones who had decided that they didn't want to stay there, or if something else was dictating that decision.

Apparently, the cause of such distress was a little mushroom species that have only been discovered after the first incident happened. An incident where the first contaminated to fully develop the parasite had attacked someone in the streets (well, allegedly attacked, since there is no proof of the guy actually hurting someone, but it doesn't matter now since he was eliminated before he could attack someone). After that the contamination had spread wildly, it was as if the existence of such a dangerous thing had just been announced and out of nowhere, the damn thing had taken a hold of people's lives.

In one second everything was fine, and then in the next they were stuck at home, feeling hopeless. At least they don't have to be the lab rat of some crazy doctor and scientist. Until now, it has been pretty easy to hide the fact they were contaminated, key words being "until now", guess what happened?

"- Fucking- itchy fungus." They yelled as they continued to scratch their itchy arms, there were visible pink and red blotches around them, and on top of that they were now hurting because of how much force they were using on their itchy arms.

They have learned that it takes too many weeks for it to develop marks around the contaminated bodies, and that the mushrooms spread and thrive in cold habitats.

And guess who was the idiot that has come back from hiking in a snowy forest about two weeks ago? Yeah that 's right! This imbecile right here!

"- Ugh, what the hell do you want from me?" It's been three days since they started talking with the fungus growing inside them, since they noticed that indeed, the fucking thing comprehends human communication somehow.

Or maybe they were just insane.

This was basically an everyday routine, the mushroom would get agitated, they would ask it what it wanted, and in a brilliant moment of concentration they would remember exactly what the mushroom wanted.

"- Pizza again? Come on, you're going to make me spend all of my savings on some lackluster pizza?" They said while looking at their colorful arms, they needed to cover them if they wanted to see anyone else soon.

You see, ever since they started to stay inside their house to not spread the contamination, they have been ordering pizza at a very terrible place that sold only the most boring pizza they could have ever eaten. No flavor at a cheap prize!

It seemed like the stupid fungus had taken a liking to the terrible taste of nothingness, so they had decided to obliged with the fungus wishes.

"- Stupid parasite, you're lucky I can't beat you for making me waste so much in daily deliveries." They continued to be grumpy about it as they put some clothes on, normally they love to spend their time alone naked, and apparently the fungus also agreed with the decision. What? It's their apartment, they can be naked if they want.

They took their phone and typed the number to the pizzeria, well, at least they never take too long to deliver their mediocre pizza.

"- Hi, it's Anthony's Pizzeria, how can I help you?" They heard a familiar voice come from the other side of the call.

Oh.

"- What-!" They yelped, almost causing the call to accidentally end right there and then.

It's you, it's your voice! They know it it's, they are sure of it!

"- … Uhn, hey, are you okay-"

"- I'm f-fine, sorry!" They have interrupted your question, they were so caught up about your voice that they forgot to order the pizza.

Oh but your voice! Your voice was so different in the call than in real life, it's so… Interesting! Yeah, that's surely the word they were looking for!

They have called so many times yet this was the first time you were the one to pick up! They guess that because of the contamination and quarantine stuff going on, they were low on staff and you were the one receiving the orders.

After all, you were the only person that worked there that would deliver their pizza every single time. It became such a normal thing that you two even know each other's names!

[Y/N], it's such a beautiful name, it fits the owner. Although they think you're pretty unlucky to have to work at a terrible place and also do deliveries to an unwelcoming neighborhood.

That's the reason why you're the one to always bring their pizza, it's because you're the only worker that they are willing to risk in such a terrible place. Fortunately, their only client around this area is them.

When they were about to finish their order, they asked if you were the one that was going to bring the pizza.

"- Yeah, it is me. You know, low on staff and all, why do you ask?" You ask them with that welcoming voice of yours. A hint of happiness graced your tone, you were happy that it was them ordering again.

Although you still think that their obsession with mediocre pizza is a little concerning, you ended up forming some sort of friendship with them. An odd one for sure, but you're still happy about it.

When you first met them, they would always give you some really scary vibes. They were so, well, cold and closed off. Never smiling, never giving tips, always in a terrible mood, etc.

But recently, they started to treat you with so much respect, even joking about your job with you. The first time you saw them smile, you thought you were seeing a completely different person.

You're still glad you found this new version of them. They look happier and you felt good for them. Maybe they have found their own happiness.

To hear your confirmation was the most exciting thing they could have heard all day! They were sulking in this disgusting room all day, yet hearing that you're coming makes them feel alive!

They can't even hide their excitement, you can hear them being happy and giggly over the idea of you coming over. Even if technically you're only coming there to deliver them their order and all.

When the call ends, they soon are brought back to reality. When they were talking to you, they felt like they were in the best place on Earth, yet when they looked around their apartment they could only observe the clues of a disgusting creature living in this dirty ass place without ever cleaning it, not even once.

It's a depressing sight, yet they have learned to deal with it. It was normal for them to be lazy and an absolute pig, although they are aware that even pigs are a lot cleaner than them.

They should at least take a shower before you come in.

And just as the idea of you being anywhere near them came into their mind, their personality had switched again, from a grumpy depressed loser to… to…

To whatever the hell they are right now!

Seriously, they were feeling like shit all day, yet at the moment the opportunity to see you comes up, they feel like their day it's already 100 times better!

They feel their heart pounding at an incredible passing, the water of the shower hitting their skin helping their temperature to cook down. They don't even feel so cold anymore, they feel- Powerful!

They feel better than the last time they saw you, which was yesterday, so it doesn't even make sense for them to miss your presence the way that they do, but still!

Apparently even the fungus seemed to be happier about this situation, as their arms weren't itchy at all and the headache they were feeling seemed to have stopped.

They thought the thing was only awaiting its meal, as all living creatures do when faced with the opportunity to get food without any efforts put into it.

It was as if the motive to actually fix a little bit of this place had suddenly appeared at the mention of your arrival! It was uncommon for them to do such a thing, even for a guest, and their neighbors can testify.

Not that they would want to be involved in their life either way, their neighbors know how unpleasant they can be, even to those that live near them.

To think your presence has such an impact on them and their life, even though they never experienced anything like this before, their sudden change in mood never really crossed their minds as being bad or unconventional. It just… Happens.

And- It doesn't feel bad at all.

Maybe this lonely loser is finally understanding the importance of healthy social interactions! Good for them?!

After getting out of the shower and putting their clothes back on, they straight up jump out of the bathroom to complete their next task, which was making their apartment seem a little more *pleasant", at least for someone that was looking at it from the other side of their door.

But before they could do much, their apartment bell rang and you called them from the other side of the door. You did something, however, that would soon be proven to be a bad decision.

You have decided to call them by their name instead of the usual "your pizza is here" or whatever the hell you used to scream so the customers could hear. You thought that you had spent enough time with them to be able to use their name in a friendly manner, which was nothing wrong with that, dearest! Is just that-

They haven't been able to hear people say their name in such a friendly way in a long, long time. It's both refreshing and terrifying how they craved that form of attention.

And what is just as terrifying is how fast they throw their body towards the door, like a desperate addicted trying to reach their dose of dopamine. But that comparison it's absurd, right? It has nothing to do with the current situation.

Oh no, wait-

"- [Y-Y/N]!? You came in e-earlier than I thought! How is everything going??" They would welcome you in, but the truth is that they haven't been able to finish all of the cleaning. Basically, they took all of the garbage that was in front of the door's view and put it deeper in their apartment.

Just like sweeping dirt under the rug, you were only able to see a moderately good looking apartment behind them, yet in reality, all of the dirty dishes and clothes that were previously laying around there, were now shoved under some tables in a desperate need to impress you.

Even if a little bit.

Because of how suddenly they opened the door and came into view, you got yourself a little spooked by the taller figure in front of you. They always looked pretty scary in your eyes, yet recently you started to notice that they have a softer side.

You can't help but associate them with big scary dogs, you guess that they only put some sort of facade to keep themselves appearing to be tough and strong and "scary". You can't lie that they got you pretty good the first time you met.

You answer them, telling how hard it has been to work in an awful pizzeria while the world is burning and a weird disease suddenly has been discovered out of nowhere. They tried their best to continue the small talk, yet it seemed like they didn't need to do much because soon enough you were babbling about your life.

They loved it, you were always so talkative, even to a complete stranger. They wanted to pay close attention to you and what you were saying yet they simply couldn't! Your presence was so overbearingly sweet that they thought they would have a heart attack!

I'm being serious though, their heart started to accelerate out of nowhere and a weird feeling started to arise inside their hearts. They felt so weird and uncomfortable because of the sudden sensations yet- It felt so good in a way.

They felt alive for once, they felt- They felt like they were capable of anything!

Yet they still felt like they needed something more than just… This, whatever the hell is giving them such a wonderful feeling. Could it really be you, the cause of such wonderful emotions to bloom?

Your skin looked so soft, your smile was so gentle even when you were focused on giving them their order, you looked like you cared for them so much that when you noticed their odd behavior you put your hand in their shoulder.

This one, simple little contact managed to get a hold of them and their thoughts, their breathing now way faster and frantic than before.

How long have they been without a human touch? They are pretty sure it wasn't long, yet they still feel… Shamefully needy.

They can't tell what's worse, trying to convince you that they were okay, or trying to convince themselves to not do something stupid. They didn't know what it was, but there was a suspicious feeling crawling up their spine, the feeling that if they didn't control themselves something bad could happen.

They lied of course, saying they were just- Dizzy and a little tired, that they were doing everything on auto pilot, and even if you end up believing them, the moment you take your hand away us the moment they regret not giving in to whatever odd urge they were having a couple of seconds ago.

You were soon about to leave, they didn't even notice that they were holding the pizza box and almost let it fall from their loose grip.

"- H-Hey, wait! [Y/N] I-" they sounded absolutely pathetic, they sounded desperate for your attention but at least it seemed like you didn't mind or simply didn't notice their tone of voice.

You were causing so much frustration yet you remained oblivious to their suffering.

"- Do you… Perhaps, want to hangout later? I-If you're not busy, of course…." They sounded like a teenager who just confessed their crush on someone, well, if they were trying in that situation, normally the other person would at least be aware of their feelings.

But no, of course they aren't and of course you only see their offer as a way to call you for a friendly date.

People sweet and naive like you used to get on their nerves, they used to ignore your type of person yet-

Here they are! Being pathetic and stuttering, the only good thing to come out of this interaction was that you accepted their offer.

At least you're kind enough to accept to meet this poor thing again in a more private scenario. Not in your daily "customer and worker" type of interaction.

And as your form goes away at each step you take, the intrusive thoughts start to come in again. Those thoughts, those pains from earlier, everything was starting to get back.

It really does seem like you're the cause for their problems. Their headaches, their low self-esteem thoughts, the stupid fungus itching their skin, all of that was your fault… Somehow.

In someway or another you were the one that would always show up in their dreams, in their intrusive thoughts. They closed the door to their apartment while slowly placing the pizza on their coffee table, since now their mind was starting to come up with the solution to their daily pains.

This is not about pizza, this is about you! About how you consume their mind, even when you aren't present.

Although, every time you're near them, they feel so much better, like all of their issues have gone away.

That 's it! You're not only the source of their problems, but also the solution! Oh, that 's perfect! They know exactly what they need to do to make sure you cure them.

Yeah… YEAH! YES! They won't need to suffer every day waiting for the next time to see you, they can simply have you by their side, right??!

Please, please tell them, please tell this mad person that you'll cure them of the same thing you contaminated them with!!

Please… They feel so, so cold and lonely. Their only company is a parasite who seems to agree with this person's mad, delusional thoughts.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #sheep's stuff #yandere x reader #yandere fanfics #yandere fanfic #yandere short fanfiction #yandere virus #yandere mushroom #yandere zombie #special delivery request #special delivery short fanfiction

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words-for-holland · 4 years

Text

Quarantine Series: Burnt Out

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Y/N has to work from home during Quarantine, but when she gets extremely busy it’s up to Tom to find a way to help her relax .

A/N: This is my second attempt at this piece. Last time I created this it was super long but it got deleted 😩

All Y/N ever wanted was an opportunity to work from home. Then again, who wouldn't want that opportunity? All she could think about was how nice it’d be to work in the comfort of her own home, not have to dress up in business professional clothing, and most importantly be surrounded by the people she cared for the most. But as the saying goes, “Be careful for what you wish for.”

When a global pandemic decided to take over 2020, Y/N certainly got her wish. Her company was forced to work from home until further notice, but what she didn’t expect was the amount of work she would be given. Y/N was pulled from project to project with deadlines thin as paper, and was expected to pick up the extra work of those that were no longer with the company. There was no time to catch a breath, and there certainly was no time to spend with her beloved boyfriend, Tom. This only made Y/N more depressed and made the Holland boys only more concerned.

“Mate, you got to get her to take a break. She’s gonna overdo it.” Harrison commented to his best friend, as they watched Y/N type away like a zombie from the kitchen.

“You think I don’t know that?!” Tom responded with a defeated sigh. “Every time I ask her, she always brushes it off and claims shes fine. Don't get me wrong, Im proud of her and admire her work ethic, but damn its sucking the life out of her.”

Both Harrison and Tom continued to observe Y/N with a cup of tea on hand, wondering how long it would take before she snapped. Tom hated seeing her like this. To him this wasn’t fair. It’s not fair that her 8 hour shift now became a 15 hr shift. Its not fair that she had to work 3 weekends straight, and it certainly wasn’t fair that her company took precious time away to be together. It was hard enough already that he couldn’t spend time with Y/N like a normal boyfriend would because of filming. Now, that he has the opportunity to make up for the lost time, it’s taken away.

“What if you surprised her?” Harrison quipped.

Tom looked up at his best friend with curious eyes. It took a few minutes to sink in, until the brightest idea figuratively smacked him in the face. “Yeah...yeah!” he responded, a smile forming “And I think I know exactly how to do it.”

As Tom was working through the thought process of his brilliant plan, his younger brother entered the kitchen, looking for his usual afternoon snack. “Hey, does anyone know where —. Oh no...” Harry groaned as he looked up at Tom and Harry. “Whatever it is that you two are planning...Leave me out of it.”

“Come on, mate. You dont even know what were planning.” Harrison defended

“Believe me, I know enough and any plan that involves you in it, is likely to fail 99.9% of the time.” Harry opened up his bag of crisps as he continued to list out the other 99 possible reason why they should have left Y/N alone like she wanted. “Cmon guys, you know how she gets. When she doesnt want to be bothered, she doesnt want to be bothered.”

“You’re right Harry, but she’s so stressed, she’s homesick, and one day she’s going to overdo it. Id be a shit boyfriend, if I let it happen.” Tom reasoned. “Look, Im not trying to do anything crazy here. I just want to give her that sense of comfort and see her relax.”

Harry looked at his brother and then at Harrison, both displaying their best puppy dog eyes, in hopes that he’ll join in. “The face doesnt work on me...but I’ll help for Y/N’s sake.”

Meanwhile, Y/N continued her work in the living room, her eyes firmly glued to the computer screen. After being dragged into the kitchen and the Holland plan, Tuwaine slowly made his way to Y/N. “Hey Y/N.” he happily greeted. “I think it’s time for you get some fresh air, don’t you think?”

Y/N looked up, her glasses slightly shifting forward down her nose. “You know theres this thing called being stuck in Quaratine right?” she responded, continuing to code her project.

“I think the real question is do you really want to work here when there’s just nothing but CONSTANT NOISE !” Tuwaine yelled out, hoping the others would catch on.

“What?!” Tom yelled back. It took him some time to realize what Tuwaine meant by his statement. “Oh...Right!” Quickly, Tom grabbed whatever pot or pan he could grab his hands on and dropped them on the counter. Harrison and Harry gave Tom the strangest look. “What? I gave him some noise?”, he shrugged.

“See?” Tuwaine smiled back at Y/N. “You wouldnt want to distract that working brain of yours with all this going on, right?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as Tuwaine as she looked at him and the closed off kitchen. Did they think she was born yesterday? Of course she knew they were up to something. None of the boys were subtle enough to keep everything hush hush.

Y/N shook her head and decided to just go with it. The faster she complied, the faster they’d leave her alone, which only meant more time to finish her work. Tuwaine helped carry her laptop, mouse, and charger to the porch as he led her outside. “See, arent you glad your outside, breathing in fresh air with no distractions?”, Tuwaine spoke out.

Y/N took her time to admire the view. “Wow”, she whispered under her breath. Y/N couldnt remember the last time she set foot outdoors. Seeing the sunlight hit the flower beds, the gentle breeze rustle through the grass; it was beautiful. Of course, the moment was short lived with a simple ding, which only multiplied by the second.

Y/N dripped her head back, trying to rub out the frustration from her face. “Yes, well it was fun while it lasted. Duty calls.”

“Im sure they wouldnt mind if you just took five minutes for yourself at least.” Tuwaine commented, feeling bad about the amount of work he saw popping up on your screen.

“Yeah well that’s Corporate for you. Doesnt matter if you’re 500 km away or if a virus is hurting the population. If you’re not working, you’re useless.” Y/N shrugs. It wasn’t like her company was completely evil, this was just how business worked.

“I know Y/N, and we all see that you care deeply about your work but we’re all so worried about you too. We want you to be mentally okay as well. I know Tom is worried about you the most...He misses you, you know.”

Y/N’s heart dropped the second she heard him say it. She knew that all of this was gonna take some time away from Tom, but she hadn’t realized how much he would be missing her, even though they’re living under the same roof. “Yeah I miss him too, more than anyone will know. Believe me.” Y/N pondered for a moment as she stared at the work in front of her. Perhaps five minutes couldn’t hurt. “Maybe I will take that break after all.”

“Really?”, Tuwaine was surprised she had agreed so quickly, and at the same time he panicked. Tom and the others were not ready for Y/N’s surprise yet. “On second thought, Im wrong. You should keep going and try to finish up that project of yours or else you’ll never be done.”

“Excuse me?” Y/N asked as she tried to close her laptop. “You just spent a whole half hour trying to convince me to stop working, and now you want me to go back and work?”

“Yeah..I mean what do I know, right?” He laughed nervously. Tuwaine looked back at the door, for some sort of signal. Come on man it’s not like your preparing a break for the Queen of England.

“Listen Tuwaine, if I go back there and you boys break anything in that house...I swear— I’ll”

“Y/N!” Tom interjected as he stepped out to the porch. He wrapped his arms behind her waist, giving her a gently kiss on the top of her head. “How’s work, my pretty girl?” He looked back at Tuwaine and mouthed a thank you to him as he left the love birds alone.

Y/N turned around to face Tom, taking in his features and running her hands at the nape of his neck. “Busy, but what else is new? I’ve been missing you a whole lot”

“Me too, darling. Anyway, Im really hoping you can take a break from all this because I’ve got something special for you.”

“Oh no, babe. You know you didnt have to anything for me. Really Im fine..I-“

“I wanted to. In fact the boys wanted in on it too. So this is really from all of us, if you think about it.” Tom grabbed Y/N’s hand as he led her back in to house. “Come.”

As they both enetered the house hand in hand, Tom led Y/N into the kitchen, where the rest of the boys waited with diner burgers in hand and warm homemade chocolate chip cookies on the side of table. What seemed like a simple meal was a cure for any bad day..at least for Y/N it was. It represented a sense of home for her, while being far from Jersey. Even though she hadnt realized it, Tom and the boys knew she needed it. “Wow” Y/N breathed “I...I dont know what to say.”

“Dont say, just eat” Harrison laughed. “In all honesty this was Tom’s idea. We just wanted to make sure you had the support you need.”

“Yeah you deserve this, so please enjoy it.” Harry added. With that, everyone dug in and bonded over a family dinner, sharing laughs and stories. Tom leaned toward Y/N whispering in her ear, “I have a few more surprises after this.”

The next few surprises did not disappointment. He set up a nice warm bath for the two of them to relax and enjoy each others compny. A few subtle kisses, laughter, and silence was shared between the two. Y/N leaned back into Tom’s chest, feeling the water gently flow back and forth. Breathing in and out, she had forgotten how good this felt. Being close to Tom, was a different experience, one that no one could ever do justice. This was what she really needed.

After the bath, Tom led her into their shared bedroom. For a moment, Y/N stopped him as she pulled his head down to hers, giving him the kiss he rightfully deserved. Her lips crashed with his, his hands gently holding the sides of her tiny face. He picked her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist and situated themselves on the bed. Reluctantly, they both pulled away, catching their breath. Their foreheads touching and noses gently rubbing the others. “I love you. I love you more than you could possibly know.” Y/N whispered to him

“And I love you. I just want to give you the world because you deserve it all. My hardworking pretty girl.” Of course all good things must come to an end.

After a great well spent break was shared between Y/N and Tom, she was back on the work grind. Only this time she was working in their room as Tom was reading a script for his next upcoming project. The more Y/N coded, the sleepier she was getting. It onyl took a few minutes before she started leaning into Tom and her eyes started to flutter. Her breaths became slower and she was out like a light.

Tom turned to look at Y/N, smiling to see the sight of her finally at peace. He removed her glasses and set them by her table side. Tom made sure to clock her out of work abd checked to see if her work was saved. Just as he was about to turn off her laptop, another message popped up. “Great”, he muttered, rolling his eyes at the fact her team is still working at this hour. He couldnt help but read it though. Just how badly did they need her anyway?

We all know how hard you’re working and going above and beyond to get these projects out the door. For that, we thank you! On behalf of the company we’d like you all to take a day off on us!

Tom smiled, relieved that shell finally get some time for herself. Feeling triumphant, he shut off her laptop and set it aside. Crawling back into the bed and covering themselves under the blanket. His arms wrapped her waist once again. “Goodnight, my love. Im so proud of you.” he whispered.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker

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skiller0dani · 4 years

Text

Heart of Stone | Timothee Chalamet

M A S T E R L I S T

smut requests info wanna be on a Timmy taglist? click here

hey guys. so I’m really depressed right now and everything I try to write is shit. so if you want something good it’ll have to be depressing bc that’s the mood I’m in. sad shit is all I’m good at. ahahaha I am useless. just ignore that. hope you enjoy. thank you for all the love, I appreciate all your lil angel baby faces. xx (I listened to ‘diamond heart’ by alan walker before I wrote this. just some inspo)

there’s something broken in me. anyone relate?

He called so many times he was worried you were going to block him.

Tim knew he needed to give you space but he didn’t know how to do that. You’ve been by his side for so long he’s used to calling you about everything. Most of the time he doesn’t even realize he’s calling you until he hears your voicemail. ‘Hey it’s Y/N, uh call me back! If you want, or don’t I don’t care either way you can do what you want. I’m not the boss of yo-’ He always smiles when he hears your rambling voicemail, the beep eventually cutting you off. For the life of him he doesn’t understand why you never changed it but he’s happy you didn’t. It’s so you.

Nothing tasted the same, if that makes sense.

Timothee used to love orange juice first thing in the morning, but now it tasted too sour. He didn’t know if orange juice had changed or if it was him that changed. It was hard to tell anymore. Nothing fit together the same way it used to, like all the pieces to his puzzle didn’t go together. It all felt jumbled, he never thought this would happen. But according to you it wasn’t anything he’d done wrong, it was you that needed to ‘explore emotional experiences’ with someone else. Tim knew what that meant really though. It meant you started having feelings for someone else and wanted to pursue it. A really fancy way of saying she emotionally cheated on him. At least that’s how Tim sees it. You pulled out of the relationship emotionally and began to invest your heart in somebody else. How fucked up is that? Tim tried not to be angry but how could he not be? His heart has been crushed in his chest and he was here, alone, in the apartment you picked to put all his pieces back together again. As if that was even possible.

His desk chair was too twirly. It spun too much. That’s what started this whole fiasco Tim found himself in. His desk chair spun too much. He had gotten a knife to try and pry the chair apart to tighten it when the knife slipped and sliced his hand open. This kind of crap never happened when you were around. You always stopped him whenever he reached for the knife, “Wait, what’s the knife for?” Tim can hear your worried little voice in his head, except this time he decided to promptly ignore it. So he’d cleaned the cut, and instead of getting stitched he opted to superglue it shut and slap a bandage on it. Even pain felt different. Were you a life dampener? Did your love shield him from dealing with crap like this?

Tim leaned his head back against the bathroom wall, his throbbing hand resting in his lap. It was concerning how numb he felt to everything because at first Tim was pissed. He trashed your shared bedroom and smashed nearly all of your dishes. He was currently eating on paper towels until the replacements could be shipped. Normally Tim would have bought more from the store but you know- fucking COVID. He rubbed a hand down his face as the tears built behind his eyes again. Who was better than him? Who stole your heart right from him? Who on Earth could have caught her damn attention? Why did this happen? Tim had a hundred questions and no answers, but he didn’t know if knowing the answers would help.

His friends called, they texted. They even tried to stop by. He didn’t answer his phone, or the door. There was no way he would ever feel comfortable talking about this with anybody- not even Dr. Phil. Even Jimmy Fallen reached out attempting to make some sort of contact with Timothee. But Tim for the life of him could not understand why nobody understood that he didn’t want to talk. He wasn’t expecting you to abandon him, he loves you. He wished he didn’t. Tim wishes he could wake up and for this to be some sort of extremely vivid nightmare. That he could wake up and pull you into his arms with a deep sigh, just inhaling your scent and pressing kisses to your bare skin. Thumping his head back against the counter, Tim squeezes his eyes shut as he feels tingles running south.

He’s always had you here to help him take care of his sexual needs, he doesn’t even know how to deal with his hard ons without you. He curls his fists against his sides when he remembers you on your knees in this very bathroom, swallowing his cock all the way down your throat. Tim can still see you in front of him, your eyes locked on his. Standing from the bathroom tiles Tim pushes out of the small room, needing to get some air. There are tears in his eyes again as he paces the living room. He quickly reaches for his phone but instead of landing on your contact he keeps scrolling to a contact he had saved in his phone a few days ago when he was out at a bar. Tapping his fingers along his phone nervously he prayed to God she would answer.

“Hello?” Her voice was groggy on the other side and in any other circumstance Tim would feel guilty for waking her. Not this time. “I need you.” His voice was nearly a whine as he gasped into the phone, his cock straining against his jeans. He was hard for you not for some girl he met at a bar but goddammit he needed to get off, and you left him.

It wasn’t too long before whatever her name was arrived and as soon as Tim opened the door he was pulling her against his lips. “Not to be rude or anything,” Tim began as her lips chased his in a desperate and fast kiss, her hands grabbed at his curls to tug gently. “But I just need someone to fuck.” He gasps against her lips as her right hand slides down his body. She nods as her lips find his neck, “I know.” She agrees and as soon as she does Tim’s hands are hauling her legs up and around his waist. She ground against his hard cock, and he groans softly. “Sorry but what the fuck is your name?” Tim asks and she laughs against his mouth as he walks them to the couch. She pulls back from him, her blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail. She’s not nearly as pretty as you, but she’ll do. “Ashley.” She smiles but in all honesty Tim doesn’t really care. He just doesn’t want to call her ‘whatever her name is’ in his head anymore.

Tim throws her back against the couch, her pupils dilated as he leans over her to pull her shirt up and over her head. He trails wet kisses down her body until he’s tugging her yoga pants down her legs. “Right to the point huh?” Ashley pants, lifting her hips to help Tim remove her pants. He doesn’t bother answering her as he literally tears her thong off. He doesn’t feel like doing the whole foreplay thing, he doesn’t want to ‘enjoy’ this. He wants to get off.

Tim licks a line through her folds to ensure she’s wet as he hurriedly pushes his jeans down. Ashley hands him a condom, which he quickly takes before tearing it open. “Fuck you’re big.” Ashley muses as she spreads her thighs, watching as he rolls the ‘a little too small’ condom down his shaft. He presses his head into her, and when Timothee sinks his cock inside her all the way. He feels like a goddamn animal.

Tim never was a smoker but he did it occasionally for movies. Tonight seemed like as good a night as any to give it a try. He leaned over the balcony of the apartment, overlooking New York. Ashley was asleep on the couch and he really should make her leave but he doesn’t feel like waking her up. Jeans hang low on his hips and he couldn’t be bothered to put his shirt back on. He feels like a bad person, for having sex with Ashley. It’s not his fault you left him. A cigarette hangs from his lips and for once the ambiance of the busy city soothes the storm brewing in Timothee’s head. He’s not used to you not being here, he doesn’t want some random girl named Ashley on the couch. He wants you on the couch. This fucking cigarette is doing nothing for him, why do people smoke anyway? In every damn movie you always see someone smoking after sex, why? What’s the point?

Tim flicks the cigarette over the balcony with a shake of his head before he hears quick and desperate pounding on the front door. He turns to answer it, seeing Ashley having been jolted awake with a blanket pressed to her bare chest. Without looking Tim swings the door open and the sight before him nearly makes his eyes bulge out of his head. There you are stood, with your bags, at his door. Your eyes flicker to the girl on the couch, and there’s an unreadable expression on your face. “May I come in?” You ask politely, as though the two of you were briefly acquainted strangers. He sucks in a sharp breath before opening the door wider for you, seeing Ashley already pulling her clothes on.

The fireplace created a soothing ambiance, but the current mood in the room is anything but soothing. Ashley hurriedly gets to her feet, her shirt only halfway on as she scrambles to the front door- swinging it shut behind her. Tim reaches for the carton of cigarettes, so this is why people smoke. He lights it, much to your disbelief. “You smoke?” Your voice portrays how utterly shocked you are, but that’s not what Tim is concerned about. “Forget something?” He asks bitterly, turning back towards the balcony. You stand dumbly in front of the fireplace as he turns his back to you, “you know where everything is. Careful there’s broken porcelain in the kitchen.” Tim adds as he steps onto the balcony, needing space from you.

Tim isn’t all that surprised when you step out onto the balcony beside him.

“That’s not why I’m here.” You say softly, careful not to get too close to him. There’s a tension between the two of you that was never there before, and it’s all your fault. You look back inside at the couch, the blankets are messed up and the cushions are squished down. “You had sex with her didn’t you?” You ask, knowing you don’t have any right to sound as hurt as you do. Tim takes a long puff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out into the New York night. “Yeah,” he breathes, although he doesn’t sound very proud of it. You nodded, your eyes looking out at the beautiful city laid out before you. “I think we both know that I made a mistake.” You start, your voice soft. Tim scoffed through a bitter laugh, his elbows resting on the railing.

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t trust you not to hurt him again. “I love you Tim.” You say, your heart betraying you as tears well in your eyes. You wanted to try and remain strong. Tim’s eyes are downcast as the cigarette rests between his lips. Your eyes land on his hand, and you notice the blood soaked through the bandaid. “What happened to your hand?” You asked and Tim briefly glanced down at his palm before turning his gaze to you for the first time since you got here. “Please just tell me what you want.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans away from you. You hate that you did this to him.

“You Tim, I want us.” You tell him, your eyes following him as he moved back inside. You followed him like a lost puppy as he moved into the kitchen.

“But you want him too right?” Tim asks, a look of hurt and anger on his face as he eyes you. There’s a bitter smile on his face, and a look of guilt on yours. You shake your head, “I thought I did. I was wrong, I could never feel for him the way I feel about you.” You plead, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks as you stand and watch him move through the kitchen. “The problem Y/N, is that I knew that from the beginning. I knew right away that I would never love anyone the way I love you. I didn’t need to go gallivanting off with some other girl to figure that out!” Tim snapped, his voice raising as he looks into your eyes. There are tears falling freely down your cheeks now as you pull at the strings hanging from the sweater you’re wearing. It’s Tim’s sweater actually, and you’re sure he knows that.

“I-I know, I wish I had the answer you want but I don’t! I don’t! All I can give you is what I got right now, I-I love you.” You beg, your voice breaking through the tears. Tim holds a glass in his hand, presumably to get a drink but he never gets the chance to use it. He chucks it at the wall, glass exploding off everywhere as he turns back to you. “You love me? That’s fucking hilarious Y/N. If you loved me you wouldn’t have left!” He yelled, the emotion on his face making your throat close. There are tears behind his eyes, and you can see how badly you broke him. You’d give anything to undo this, to go back in time. “What do I do Tim, what c-can I do?” You plead, trying to catch your breath through the sobs. Tim doesn’t bother responding as he storms past you and to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

You stand in the kitchen and cry, you’re not sure this can be fixed. Why are you so stupid? You love him so damn much, why couldn’t you see that sooner?

Tim slides down the door, part of him wants to take you into his arms and never let you go again. But the other part wants to hold you at arms length, wants to scream and break everything in this damn apartment. He hears you slump against the door on the other side, and his heart rate begins to slow. “I want to fix us.” You say softly. Tim rests his head back against the door, his knees are pulled up. “How can I trust that you won’t leave me again? I won’t survive this a second time.” Tim says, his voice calmer than before. It’s true, he will not survive this a second time if you up and decided to leave him. “You can’t, but I won’t leave you again. I promise.” You whisper, turning to press your forehead against the door.

Slowly the door opens and you immediately stand, seeing Tim standing before you. “I love you.” You whisper again, seeing the tears in his eyes. They match the fresh tears brimming in your own eyes. “I-I love you.” Tim breathes through shaky breaths, his trembling hands reaching up to cup your cheeks. Your forehead presses against his as your arms wind around him, and you feel at home again. Slowly, cautiously, you press your lips to his. Tim reacts immediately to you, his head tilting to deepen the kiss, his hands pulling you more firmly against him. The kiss is quick and desperate, but at the same time slow and sensual. You feel tears falling down your cheeks, and tears falling down his as well. You begin to walk him backwards towards the bed, you need to feel him all over your body.

The two of you fall against the bed, your bodies tangled together as your lips continue to slide against each other. Your hands are the first to wander as they head south to his hardening cock. His chest is still bare and your other hand dances around his revealed skin. Tim’s hands push up the bottom of your shirt, slowly working it up your body as your hand dips under the waistband of his jeans. He gasps into your mouth when your small hand wraps around his cock and his grip on you tightens when you begin to slowly pump him in your hand. You break away from his lips to allow him to pull your shirt over your head and he groans when he sees your bare breasts and no bra.

“I missed this.” He mumbled against the skin of your neck, his kisses trailing downward towards the swell of your breasts. Your head fell back as soft gasps escaped your mouth as his lips latched to your left nipple. You continued to work your hand over his shaft, feeling the head precumming all over your hand. “You’re hard awfully quick after the blonde bitch.” You say, your voice sharper at the end. Tim hummed against your skin, his other hand dancing down between your bodies to the waistband of your jeans. “She wasn’t particularly satisfying, just enough for me to cum though.” Tim says simply, kissing across your chest to your right nipple. You feel a sting to your heart but you say nothing because you totally deserved that.

The pad of his fingers makes contact with your aching clit and you nearly cry out when you feel him beginning to softly press against your bundle of nerves. You pump him in his pants faster and when you feel his hips stutter one of his hands snatches your wrist in his hand. “I’d rather cum in your sweet little pussy rather than in my jeans.” Tim mumbles against the supple skin of your breast. You nod immediately as you begin to push his jeans down his legs, helping him remove your own jeans. You rolled onto your back and pulled you with him so that he was hovering above you. “Don’t think this fixes everything, we have a long way to go.” Tim reminds you, his hands planted on the pillow on either side of your head.

“I know.” You say softly, parting your thighs for him. He groans at the sight of your wet pussy, this was definitely a view he missed enjoying. Tim smiles to himself as he leans down to part your pussy lips. He sits back and takes in the view of your glistening folds until you’re squirming under his intense gaze. “Please do something,” You plead softly, watching his eyes flutter over every detail of your soaked pussy. He softly blows cool air on you, causing a soft moan to tumble from your lips before he leans back up over your body. Tim nudges the head of his cock into your opening as he looks down at you, “look..you hurt me but I love you. More than anything.” Tim says sincerely, his eyes flickering between yours. You wrap your arms around him before you press your lips to his, “I love you.” You mumble against his lips as he presses into you.

You wince as he slides inch by inch into you, the last time you were with anyone was him and that was a few weeks ago. You missed the feeling of his cock stretching you open. Tim squeezes his eyes shut with a long groan, “Christ baby you are so fucking tight.” Tim gasps, the feeling of you tightly hugging his cock is making him feel a little lightheaded. “I haven’t been with anyone since you,” you gasp once Tim slid fully inside you. He sat still for a moment, basking in the feeling of being fully inside you. You moaned softly, you loved feeling so stuffed full with his cock. How could you ever think you were better off without him? Or his Godly cock? Eventually Tim pulls his hips back, sliding out until just his tip rested inside you. Your legs spread even wider for him as he thrusted back in, his strokes long and deep. Tim kept fucking you nice and deep, keeping his pace steady as he panted above you. His mouth hung open and his eyebrows were pinched together as he frantically lowered his mouth over yours again.

Your lips moved quickly against Tim’s as you felt the heat building in your stomach. “I missed this pussy so much baby,” He groaned against your lips, his pace picking up a little. You began to moan uncontrollably as Tim began to pound into you, “I-I won’t leave you again, fuck I can’t live without you or your perfect cock.” You cry out, your arms flying around him as he bites down on your shoulder to try and silence his groans. Tim loves hearing the sounds you make for him. “Don’t stop baby please.” You plead softly as his pace slows to deep and hard strokes. Tim reaches down to harshly pinch your clit and you cum around him, your back arching up into his chest. Feeling you tighten around him sends Tim over the edge as he spills into you. Thank God for birth control.

Tim pulls out of you and collapses onto the bed next to you, his arm pulling you into his chest. You both sit and catch your breaths for a second before you feel Tim pressing a kiss to your head. “I know you’re scared I’ll leave again, but I won’t and I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you if that’s what it takes.” You tell him and he offers nothing more than a nod as he squeezes you to his chest. He doesn’t know the future, he only knows right now.

And right now, he’s got what he needs.

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#Timothee Chalamet #timothee chalamet smut #timmy chalamet #timmy chalamet smut #lil timmy tim #timothee x you #timothee x reader #Smut #angsty smut #sad imagine #bittersweet #sad smut #makeup sex

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Note

i want to ask for help. but i cant tell when would be a good time. because u've said before that therapy doesnt work unless YOU want it to, and i dont know WHEN i will want to. i just know that ive been feeling like this for as long as i can remember and that if i dont do SOMETHING about it, i might not even live.

i feel like im scared to ask for help because what if? what if i actually do better? i cant imagine living without thinking about dying every second. there is a scary sense of comfort in it, but its familiar and its me but its ME and i dont want it like that.

i,,, i dont know why this is going to you, but i do know i admire your opinions and i guess i just want to know. when. when does it get better.

When... hmm, as Yoongi has said before, these kinds of feelings are like seasons. I don't personally think they ever "go away" - you have good times and bad times, sometimes with reason, sometimes for no reason at all. At least, that's how it is with me. Going to put the rest under a break.

"Get better" is a vague term. You can argue you're already "getting better" because you recognize something needs to change, but that doesn't really feel statisfying because you're still in the same mental state, right? Then, is "getting better" a generalized state of more happiness? Could be. But, if you've always been in the darkness, well, shit, how are you supposed to know the light is the light? You've never seen it before. Then, does "getting better" mean... being like everyone else around me that seems like they're "good"?

That's the greatest lie of all.

I've said therapy doesn't work unless you want it to, not because you need to feel a certain measure of desire to change, but because you can't walk in there thinking the therapist is going to change you. If you have the means to try, you should to to therapy and just try it, because knowing you need to do something indicates that you already want to change. Reaching out to someone, stranger or not, already indicates you don't want to be like this forever. It might work, it might not. Therapy really depends on the therapist and finding a good fit is very difficult.

I'm going to tell you a bit about my journey. I have no idea if it will help you, but maybe you're interested.

I grew up not knowing love. My parents had an arranged marriage and, in their case, they did not love each other. Probably still don't. They're still married. I guess they tolerate each other, I don't know. In any case, it was very dysfunctional. I didn't know anything about maintaining healthy relationships, showing affection, or the value of people. I was seen as a means to an end, not really as their child. It was mostly my mom, but my dad was neglectful and wasn't really part of my life even though he was there the entire time. Because of this, I didn't value myself. I became very depressed and, if you've read my work, there's hints of what I've done to myself. I thought about dying. A lot. All the time. Planned it, dreamed it, wished for it.

Then, I moved out and entered the next phase of my life. Made a shit ton of mistakes. Destroyed friendships, had a ton of questionable relationships, chased love that was never there, fell apart. I was an "adult" but I was still the same - still wanted off this fucking Earth. But there was a difference. This time, I finally realized something.

These had be been my desicions.

My choices put me in that position. Nobody made me do anything. I was being self-destructive because I wanted to. And just like how I put myself there, I could take myself out.

So I did.

Not easily, mind you, but I did. I switched my surroundings again, put myself among people who had my best interests in mind, found my close friends, had a great time. Did shit everyone else did, went on cute dates, hung out with friends, traveled a lot, took pictures of delicious food, had an Instagram life.

Hated it.

I wasn't myself. I had pushed down my past and pretended like that shit wasn't real. I had a good life, so I'm good, right? I'm cured! I have what everyone else wants - I do what I want, have a good job and loving people around me. Yeah, no. I was "better", but I wasn't better. Far from it. I used to draw, write, create. In this phase I did none of that. I felt empty. But I was happy! Shit, what else can I do?

And then I discovered BTS.

Music does a lot of things. In my life, they defined the phases of my life. Rock and metal saved me from ending it when I was stuck in the darkness. In the time of empty happiness, I listened to music, but nothing stuck. I did, however, broaden my horizons and listen to everything, finally learning that all music has its merits and that I could find something I liked in nearly every genre.

However, I wasn't committing to anything, and that was because I couldn't commit to myself.

At first when I listened to BTS, I thought they were really cool. I went from era to era, mostly listening to title songs. Then I was bored and listened to their other stuff. I was curious about the lyrics I liked. They were usually rapped by this one guy, and I learned to recognize his voice and wait for his parts, because they always ended up being my favorite.

Yeah, just guess who it is. :)

I thought, well shit, I have no idea what he's saying. I should look it up. Went to look up the lyric translations of their songs, finding SUGA's parts and yet another epiphany.

Why am I pretending?

I'm reading these lyrics and I'm like, shit. This is it. This is me. These are all thoughts I've thought and they're here. They're real. Someone else thought them in the same way I have. And I am, indeed, still feeling these things, but pretending I'm not. Pretending it's impossible to acknowledge the person I am, that teenager wondering why I have to live when I could just fucking not, and who I've become, an adult with no sense of self but happy, and how they somehow can't coexist even though they already do. They're all me.

It wasn't very fun facing those feelings again, but I did it because I needed it. I needed to work through them and stop pretending so I could be myself. And now I am, because I can see it. You can see it. I create, not for anyone, but because this is me.

Maybe a little hypersexual. Kind of insane. Borderline cocky (but I am hot though, I'm just saying). I write, I draw, I create, I have fun, I cry, fuck, I do it all (swallow dick real fucking well too!). I do everything I want to and live how I want to.

This is just one way, one life among billions. You might not go though this (technically, you're already on the BTS phase, you know) and most likely your journey will be different. Because "getting better" is a personal thing. It is what you want in life, who you want to be, and I didn't know who I wanted to be until I lived though all kinds of shit, learning about other people's lives, and found someone who let me know, hey, you can brush past or you can soak into a heart. Change will always happen. You can live however you like. In some ways, you grow up and become an adult. In some ways, you stay the same, always young, always learning, always growing up. Sometimes people give up their young self because they think they have to. And maybe they do. You don't really have to though. You only have to be open to the idea there is also comfort in other things, that the you that you've known all your life is not the only you that will be.

To live a full life is to have many things, not physically, but mentally - memories, thoughts, past, present, whatever you want to hold on to, hold on to. No one can take them away from you. You will become more than just that. Every day, you will wake up to a new self that encompasses all your other selves before that. If you're impatient and want it now, run. Read up on things, surround yourself with all kinds of people, try activities you've always wanted to try, experience shit and find out what you like, what you hate, what you can modify to suit you better.

Find out what it means for you to get better and you'll discover, hey.

You're already there.

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leahseclipse · 3 years

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The Reichenbach Fall: Aftermath - Chapter One: Happy Death Anniversary, Detective.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x GN!Reader (With some Fem mentions)

Warnings: S2 FINALE SHERLOCK SPOILERS, Major character death; death topic, mourning, suicide mentions, depression mentions... (lemme know if I missed stuff.)

Summary: Two years after the death of Sherlock, what could be next?

Word Count: 4.0K

A/N: Hey there! I've finally found the motivation to post my Sherlock fic here. If you prefer AO3, click here :)

Sherlock used to call at midnight, he never cared whether you were trying to sleep, or if you were actually sleeping- he’d just call.

Sometimes to complain that technology was futile given the multitude of defaults it contained (his phone, for example)- or to talk about an article in a newspaper, thinking we’d be interested in it.

It’s been two years since the last call. No one could bring themselves to delete his number since; and I understand the reason for it. We all had some hope inside us, it was small given all the time that went by, but it was there.

We all wondered if he wasn’t alive. Movies aren’t real, so the whole fake-death scenario couldn’t have been real but we all thought “why not?”, it could happen. That was over a year ago, but I still believed it, I wasn’t quite planning on giving up; and when my phone rang a bit after midnight, I still had a glimpse of hope, each time.

That glimpse was cut short when I read the caller ID. It was John. I did like him, he just wasn’t who I expected to see, but I picked up the phone, just to not be rude. Voicemail is awful. “John? What’s going on?”

"I...I don’t really know, actually. Guess I...needed to feel less alone. I don’t even know."

“Hold on.” I glanced at my bedside as I put the phone on speaker before sitting on the bed. "...so, you couldn’t sleep?"

"Yeah, I’ve been trying for an hour, certainly because of..." He stopped, hesitating with his words.

Who else other than Sherlock would it be, honestly. The man’s always been in our thoughts, and now that he’s gone, we have to be reminded that he’s stuck in our minds. The only way to hear him is through memories, and probably some of us are afraid to forget what he sounds like through time. He wasn’t the guy to make documentaries on him, film himself- hell, he rejected every interview he was offered. The only thing we have is pictures, which isn’t enough.

"It’s him, isn't it?" I presumed.

"Yeah, Sherlock." He confirmed. “It’s the anniversary of his death, in two weeks.”

See, that was the kind of thing I didn’t want to recall as it made me think of what I didn’t want to accept, but at the same time, if I stopped thinking about that, might as well forget Sherlock completely.

"It kept me awake too." I admitted.”I can’t believe it.”

No one really does, to be honest. We all wish that it could be fake, that’s what we would need, even if it’d hurt to see him while we mourned all this time.

"It still feels a bit weird without him, even after basically two years."

“It didn’t seem right without him, at first."

"It took us a bit to get used to it, and still...I think I didn’t get used to it fully to this day."

"Neither am I, John. I don't think I ever will. Time will make the pain less...painful, but it’ll never erase him, he'll be in our thoughts from the moment we wake up."

"I wish it was all a dream. I hate to wake up and not see him. He annoyed me sometimes but...he was my friend."

"He was annoying but a good friend, yeah.” I said, “It’s just...not right. Nothing is right. I feel like everything has gone cold. I swear that I haven't seen a single ray of sunshine."

"It's probably time fooling around, I don't know." He said.

"It could but, when he was there, there would be some sunny-ish days. I haven't seen one since. He left, and it's like he took the sun with him, John. The whole world is falling apart.”

"I felt that too, for a moment. But, I don't really trust whatever I think about these days. I don't pay much attention to whatever I do."

"You should be careful though, I don't need you to die because you didn't pay attention out there. And before you say anything, there's no joke in there. I mean it, Watson.”

"I wasn't going to say that, trust me."

"You better. I need you there."

"Same goes for me. You've been of great help since…"

"Yeah. Since." I paused. "It sucks."

"It does.” He agreed. “Well I...I’m gonna go back to sleep, I don’t want to bother you all night.”

“You didn’t bother me, don’t worry. It helped to talk. I could even stay a bit more, if you’re not planning on going back now.”

“Alright, then.”

It’s like the weather watched me plan the day, rain is on time. It couldn’t be more depressing on top of me dressed in black, but I just didn’t feel like coming in rainbow clothes would be appropriate, even if he wouldn’t care how I dressed anyway, even if he’s dead, yeah.

It feels weird to go, I always expected this was all a dream, or that it’d just...never happen. He’s the kind of person that outlives everyone, and Sherlock was this kind of person, he’s always been that person. He even used to say he’ll always be there, that he’d never leave, and now I guess we’ve both made mistakes, he’s not here anymore.

I never thought that would happen, I can’t tell how bad I prayed to whatever god to wake up, but that did nothing but make me a fool, nothing changed.

His apartment remained empty, as ours, he’d consider each house he could sleep at, his. I remember that he stayed at John’s for a week, before having to go back as John was “not entertaining” enough because he slept too much- As if we got to sleep all day.

He used to think everyone was like him, barely sleeping, barely tired, because I don’t think I’ve had the opportunity of seeing him elsewhere other than a room full of piles of papers.

He did sleep, but not at night, it was kind of like a cat, throughout the day, when possible. I always laughed about it along with John, and he never minded, he’d either pretend to not care, or join the conversation, and I already miss this kind of talks.

They’d either be incredibly short, or extremely long, you really had to clear your schedule for an hour or two when he’d talk. It’s not that it bothered me, it was more the others, those who didn’t know him. They’ve always found an amount of weirdness in him, which I had when I was like them, a stranger.

I never thought we’d get close, I didn’t even think anyone was close with him, he seemed quite the lonely guy, very private. Even after getting to know him, he remained quite private, as I thought, he wouldn’t share much, even with John and Mycroft; but, it didn’t matter that much, we still managed to have a great friendship, and I’ll always miss it.

Not any person will be like him, he was one of a kind. Not anyone could copy him without being seen as a fool. Sherlock Holmes was unique, he didn’t copy anyone to rise up, didn’t take anyone as a model, he did it all himself, he was a model himself.

He didn’t wish to be like anyone, it was the contrary, everyone wanted to be at his level, have the recognition he had, the fame, all the things that made him known, that made Sherlock be him. Even I won’t find a mentor like him, not any of them will be better, they’ll all seem ridiculous to me, even if they have more experience than him.

Nothing will be the same. This world won’t be the same without him being here, he’s gone now.

He took a big piece of whatever thing, when he left, and whatever thing he took was a big one, because it left us all empty. The kind of empty feeling that won’t quite go away, we’ve all been so used to having him around so much that it was a habit.

And now that he’s gone, nothing feels right, even living doesn’t feel right. It won’t ever feel right without him.

I almost feel guilty for being alive, I’m not as smart as him, I won’t contribute to anything. He was the smart one, we really lost an important person and I don’t think it wouldn’t have changed much if I had died instead, people would just be sad, I think.

It wouldn’t be that bad.

His death is bad to the point that the world he left behind can’t function as well as when he was alive. The whole puzzle is missing, hell, the whole world, if I go out of the metaphor.

...Sherlock would have been the corners of it, the foundations of it, what made it whole, what gave a start to get the rest of the puzzle.

He would have corrected me with hundreds of better metaphors if he could hear me, I really suck at this. He never did, though.

In fact, most of his talking contained metaphors, it was his signature, his day couldn’t feel right if he wouldn’t tell at least one.Now the whole ‘no day without a metaphor is a bad day’ is falling on us, and nothing or no one will make that feeling go away.

It’s strange, and funny that he managed to create all of those special feelings, memories, that we only felt with him. Sherlock’s had quite the special part in our lives. He changed our lives in such a spectacular way, and to be honest, life felt less depressing, even if our job is full of dead people and mysteries that make our sleep schedule non-existent, quite rare.

He made us forget all of that shit, whenever he could. That’s why I looked up to him, and thought about him so much. Whenever I had a problem, I’d call him first. Of course, I did call John, and Mycroft, but Sherlock was like my emergency contact, he’d always pick up, if possible.

Somehow, he always knew the answers to everything, and when he was clueless (which only happened twice, in five years)- he'd attempt to find something close to it, and even if his explanations didn’t solve anything, I didn’t care.

It probably made him sort of happy to explain it, share his big knowledge, so as long as he enjoyed himself, that was enough. I did hope he did enjoy himself, I never thought about asking and now that I think about it, I probably should have, it’s too late now.

If he can hear me, a sign would be great, probably. A good thing if he enjoyed talking, and a bad one if I annoyed him? It’d be nice to know even if he probably won’t answer, he must still be working; I know it.

He would be bored if he didn’t have his face in newspapers and whatever case. I always said Sherlock not to overwork, but he never listened. I hope he’s not doing it right now, that man was a total workaholic, right to his last breath, he never stopped.

I just hope he’s okay, wherever he is.

He deserves peace, enough things happened to him, he almost died a couple times, almost lost us if we hadn’t survived all of the wounds and things that happened, almost lost himself because of depression- all of these could have killed him.

He would have stayed alive, but he would have died inside, I just know it even if he didn’t show it much. But he did feel, he did have feelings.

I know he liked us a lot, even though he didn’t show it much; he did enjoy living even with all of the problems he had so, let’s hope he’s not in pain, stressing, suffering, whatever feeling that makes him feel bad.

You can take it easy now, we’re taking care of what you couldn’t finish for you, we’re taking care of the legacy you couldn’t pursue for you, we’ve got your back, Holmes. John, Mycroft, myself, and whatever person you know will tell you everything that happens so you don’t miss anything. You’ll be able to debate about the events, you won’t miss a single thing of what’s happening.

Even if I have my pride, and don’t want to admit I’m depressed about you being dead, I’ll tell you everything, I know you’d be here to tell me how to deal with the death of a person, the whole five stages of grief. You said them to me so much that I always have them in my head.

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance.

I’d say that I’m at the last phase, but a lot of anger comes in it. I still wish it had been me, sometimes. It’s not fair it happened to Sherlock. I just hope he’s not too mad. If it had been someone else, he’d probably try to talk some sense into me, get me to tell more logical things.

If ghosts were real, I know he’d tell me to stop putting the blame on myself, even if I don’t even know why I blame myself, we don’t even know what caused him to jump from a damn building. And even if someone explains it, we won’t know if it’s real no matter how much they’ll prove it’s the truth.

The only person that can tell us that is gone.

So, unless we don’t find...a diary, or a note, proving it all, we won’t know.

The last thing we’ve heard from him was an apology, the ‘note’ he left behind was the call John received, which means the presumed note I mentioned doesn’t exist, only the call does.

After leaving his note, he fell from the roof and he died on impact, his pulse was long gone when he reached the floor, and it didn’t come back. I didn’t believe all of it happened, even when I heard John telling it, none of it seemed true...until I saw the death certificate.

The whole world stopped, and it still is frozen now. I wish the grave I’m standing in front of wasn’t real, I wish that my eyes were betraying me.

If only.

“Turns out you lied, Sherlock. You left.”

I hate you for what you did.

“You could have explained all of this a bit more. Even if I would have preferred not to, I would have prevented you from dying if you gave me a note...before.”

I wish I had known, I should have known. He didn’t have to die, he wasn’t supposed to die, certainly not like that.

Not now, that wasn’t his time. He was supposed to die of old age because of natural reasons, after all of us. Outlive us all.

Damn Sherlock Holmes wasn’t supposed to die at 35 years old. It's too young, too soon, Too much to bear.

“What am I supposed to do now, I mean- what are we all supposed to do? None of us can replace you, we’ll take twice the amount of time you barely took to resolve cases on our own, you left us in a really bad situation, you know that? It’s not going to be the same if you’re not here with us.”

And I miss you like a little kid.

“You could have made us take classes to become a close version of you, at least. I’m saying ‘close’ because no one will ever be like you. Not even that detective that had 30 years of experience, he wasn’t even close, really. I’d say he looked like a newbie, next to you.”

I even started to lose the habit of calling him when he’s not directly on the field and I hate this. I’ve only known him for a couple of years, and yet, he’s going to be ironed in my mind for a lifetime.

That man, I swear.

He didn’t think that sticking so close to us, getting to know us, sharing things about him would affect us so badly now that he’s gone. Real gone.

It hurts to say that, I wish I could just pretend he wasn’t gone, but that’s not really...healthy? It’s not really healthy in the way that if I pretend he’s still there- while he’s six feet under ground would drive me crazy, it’d completely destroy the whole ‘acceptance phase’ I’ve been working on. He’s dead, and there’s nothing we can do to bring him back.

That’s what my brain has to acknowledge, pretending he’s alive wouldn’t do any good.

Sometimes life gets to an end, and we have to accept that. I know that Sherlock, his brother and even John wouldn’t want to see me like this- ignoring reality, building a fake world to protect me from the real one.

Hurting sucks. Getting reminded that I won’t be seeing him anymore sucks, but everything sucks in life, and that’s what happens when you live. You can’t have a perfect happy life with all the shitty problems, that doesn’t exist.

But even if this sucks, I also get to remember all of the great things Sherlock has accomplished, the hundreds of memories we’ve made all together, whatever makes me happy- but there’s still a lot of hurt to go through before being able to think about them without crying because I miss them.

I wish that could be happening right now, I must have filled an entire bottle of water with all my tears. It’s even worse when that happens at 2am after you wake up from a dream about them.

Speaking of dreams, I don’t think I’ve ever had so many dreams with him compared to when he was alive. It’s as if he's haunting me, and even if I like him, I’d wish he wouldn’t do that so often, a little peace and quiet would be nice, even if I don’t want that to stop.

I’m afraid I’ll forget Sherlock if I stop thinking about him, block the memories to prevent me from the hurt that comes with it. I don’t want that to happen, he doesn’t deserve to have his legacy ignored because of my stupid feelings that hurt, he deserves to have his legacy remembered, discussed about, shared, not to have it trapped in newspapers, or in a corner of my head.

I like to imagine him being proud when I do that, even if I wouldn’t have known he was. He wasn’t the expressive kind, but he liked to show he was proud of you through a facial expression, a word, whatever could be ‘decrypted’. He wasn’t as cold as people saw him, he was extremely kind, even if he was broken in millions of pieces inside.

But yet, he overcame everything and came back even stronger. Every single time. He was amazing in so many ways, and that’s why I wish I could be like him.

So much.

I sighed, adjusting the grip I had on my umbrella, as I squatted down in front of his grave. “Did you know we went through your closet yesterday? There’s really not a lot, your clothes are so...similar. We can easily buy the same to be ‘like you’. But I don’t want to touch them, they’re kind of like precious pieces you can find in a museum.”

I hope he doesn’t think I’m crazy because of that.

“And...yeah, we went through your place because we can’t bring ourselves to sell it, I don’t want someone else to live in there and ruin it with their own belongings. But at the same time, living in it would be weird, I don’t know. I can’t find an explanation, just that it’s weird, living in the apartment of a dead person. Kinda creepy.” I explained, looking up from my umbrella as I realized the rain had gone down, letting a few rays of a ‘somehow’ sun. “Look, the sun listened to me. It’s coming up so I can give my emotional speech full of hope.” I sighed. “I don’t...I don’t even know what to say anymore. Kind of ironic as I always have something to say.”

I actually kind of know, but I don’t want to say it.

He’s gone. No miracle will bring him back, but I’ve kept hearing John saying it, I heard him last time we came; and even though I can’t bring myself to say that, I want to so badly. That’s all I’ve been wanting to happen since you died, I don’t want anything else and I don’t care about love anymore even if you always wanted me to be happy.

You’re what made me happy, you were the definition of love. Maybe what I’ve been feeling was that but I never brought myself to admit it.

I have loved you since the first day, but you always said that whoever fell in love with you should find better as you considered yourself a forever loner, unable to feel and give love, but I know you were capable of it, if you had tried, I believed you could have done it.

“Look at me, in front of your grave, exposing the feelings I’ll never have the answer to, I don’t even know if you liked me back. You really took all your secrets to your grave, huh? What a selfish prick, you could’ve shared that, at least.” I complained.

I don’t think I’ve ever known someone that hid so much stuff, he really was a whole mystery to himself, that man.

We can’t even solve what caused you to commit suicide, we’ll probably never solve it. You were the only one that knew why, and yet he can’t just pull a miracle and live again for a few minutes as a zombie to explain. That would be of great help, even if I’d prefer he’d live again.

That’d be an awesome miracle, even better than what happens at Christmas.

“Can you do that for me, though?”

Just that, I won’t ask for anything else.

“Just one more miracle, Sherlock, for us.” I said, putting my hand on the polished surface. “...don't be dead.”

It’s too easy, you can’t be dead, Nothing can kill you. I know John, and a shit ton of people saw you fall, but...let me believe all of that isn’t true.

Just a fake accident, Do that for us. Please. We need you more than you can ever imagine, you were so important to us, you were family.

A reason to fight for, to live for.

“Don’t be, please.” I pleaded, as I got up from the ground. “I uh...I’ll be back whenever I can, okay? Work’s been crazy since you’re gone, it’s incredible. I don’t know if it’s because we don’t have your help, or because it’s always been like that.”

Probably a mix of the two, I don’t really know, it’s been complicated to think properly these days. Sherlock would be the one to help with that, usually.

“I’ll have to ask someone else, I guess.”

I still haven’t found this ‘someone else’, by the way, It’s been two years, I know. But I still haven’t found someone that can help me the way he used to.

He still remains unique after all this time.

“I’ll be on my way, then. You’re awfully quiet today, guess you’re not in the mood, so I’ll go.”

I wish I still didn’t have to say goodbye, but this is the only thing I can say when I leave.

The weather had even gotten better, as if it only rained to have a full dramatic effect, there was only wind, which didn’t seem to announce a storm, for now. The sound of the leaves being crushed by my feet as I walked was to be heard, as no other sounds were around, it was very quiet today.

The silence did feel weird, I never liked it.

Not when it caused me to think of…

“Got time to spare for me?”

...him.

“Sherlock.”

|Chapter Two|

#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock fic #sherlock holmes #bbc sherlock #sherlock #lexies sherlock #sherlock holmes fanfiction

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always-there · 3 years

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About consent

OK guys, buckle up, because today's topic is depressing as hell.

Today I'm gonna talk about consent. I usually ponder about this while I cook, in the shower, late at night when I'm applying all my learned hypnosis techniques to force myself to sleep.

I was never taught about consent. All I had going for me was the classic "Rape is bad, avoid rape" chant the world of the 90's society thought was enough. All I saw were girls being advised to not dress like sluts and avoid being provocative in public. I got a good couple of different versions of that, mind you, as I grew up in a conservative Catholic school.

Nobody told us about the universe of potential situations contained within that fucking "Rape is bad, avoid rape". We thought rape happened when a man forced himself on a woman that was actively trying to resist him.

Black and white. No grey areas. Pretty simple.

I was fine with that. I was even judgmental towards victims, once I saw how they were dressed when they were attacked. Or if they were drunk or walking by themselves on areas widely known to be dangerous.

And then I grew up, entered the nasty-ass world of adults, and the Universe took pains to kick my ass in so many ways during 30 years that have finally lead to this post today.

So, I'm a list person. I like making lists. So here goes my one and only...

CONSENT LIST

• Dudes get raped too. Yeah. I know it's basic, but I scoffed at the concept for years. I know many people who still do. Dudes get raped too, get it into your mind. And no, it doesn't happen when they are effeminate weaklings. No. Any man can get raped. And they deserve to be treated as proper victims, with respect and compassion. The few times I've seen testimonies of male rape survivors, they reported even the police was skeptical or treating them like pussies or jokes.

• If your partner is sleeping, it's not consent. No, I don't give a fuck if you guys have been together for 20 years. No, I don't give a fuck if they wake up in the middle of it and decide to continue. I don't even give a fuck if they say they like it. If you touch, penetrate, make whatever sexual advance on a sleeping person, you are raping them. Any unconscious person is unable to give consent.

• If you're in the middle of it, having a good time, and suddenly your partner wants to stop... guess what, it's time to stop. You don't stop? You ask them to hang in there for just a while more until you're done? You power through it? Yeah, no. That's not consent, buddy.

• If you're ABOUT to do it, and the foreplay was great, and they were so into it, but when the time comes to actually go all the way, they change their mind... time to go home. Or put on a movie, or do whatever the fuck you want that is not forcing or trying to persuade your partner to go on.

• Subtle denial is a big-ass NO as well. They have a headache? Leave it. They are tired? Leave it. They have to wake up early the next day? Leave it. They fear a phantom clown is gonna haunt the bed if they indulge in intercourse that night? Leave-it. Don't persuade your partner to have sex if they don't feel like it. You know why? Because they DON'T want to have sex. Persuading or wearing someone down to say yes is not consent. It's pressure. Which takes us to the next bullet...

• If you insist that YES always means YES just like NO always means NO, I will smack you in the head with a frozen lamb leg. YES can be induced. Can be pressured. You can actually intimidate, scare, threaten and bully a person into saying yes. Maybe they are not ready. Maybe they are not sure about the relationship. Maybe they are not feeling well. Maybe they are fucking scared of you. It doesn't matter. If you have to lobby for it, leave it. You're being a creep.

• Drunk people. Good God. I can't believe this has to be an item. Leave drunk people alone! And I don't even mean passed-out drunk, I mean intoxicated but still dancing people, still talking people, I even mean, yes, dizzy or tipsy people. A person under the influence is not able to consent. Why do you think we drink, why do we call it a social lubricant, and other funny jabs? Because alcohol fights the restraint and common sense we'd had otherwise. It's a fun way to loosen up and get relaxed, but if someone has been drinking, don't hunt them for sex. I can't believe the number of movies and series that broadcast dudes trying to hit on drunk women. It still happens today, and not in a Law and Order episode, in your common everyday rom-com. This applies to every person under the influence of whatever substance they took that clouds their judgment.

And no, I won't hear it. They didn't put themselves in a position of danger. You are the danger, a threat that should not exist in the first place.

• So far so good, right? Well, tell me what you think about this. Let's say your partner doesn't want to have kids. And you do want them, for whatever reason. So, what do you do?

You mess with their birth control. Or you lie about you taking birth control. Or you lie about using a condom, or about the physical integrity and expiration date of said condom. Bam, presto manifesto, a bun in the oven.

That is fucking rape. And if you still need to ask why, because for whatever reason that was not creepy enough for you, I'll spell it out. It's rape, because the other person did not consent to that.

And now, if you still don't feel the need to go and take a shower until December, I have yet another list.

Are you in doubt? Are you not sure you are a rapist or not? Worry not! Below you'll find a funny little questionnaire ready for you to clear your mind and heart:

CAN I RAPE SOMEONE IF...

• ...they are dressing provocatively?

Answer: They could be walking down the busiest street of the city during rush hour completely naked and with a big, red silk bow on their ass, and still, nothing in the fucking world gives you the right to touch them. You are not entitled to another person's body because of what they choose to wear.

• ...we are dating?

Answer: Not if you are dating, not if you are married, not if the zombie apocalypse finally wiped out humanity and God himself descends from Heaven to pronounce you Adam & Eve 2.0 and gives you the task to repopulate the world. Dating only means you two are seeing each other on a regular basis for fun or to explore the possibility of a future together. It doesn't mean that your partner's body becomes your property, ergo, you have no rights whatsoever over it.

• ...they are seducing me?

Answer: Half of the time, nobody was seducing you, genius. If I have to hear another anecdote of how a bartender or barista o waitperson were throwing themselves on someone, I will barf in my own mouth. Servers are required to be nice, it's on their job description. But anyway, let's say for the sake of argument that yeah, they are indeed seducing you: no. Showing interest in someone is not an invitation to fuck, nor a provocation to fuck, so let things go their way and don't be a creepy jackass.

• ...I have done nice things for them?

This one I actually heard from a former, and I can't emphasize the former enough, friend. Their case was something along the lines of, I took her to dinner and a movie, later coffee and dessert, and one other lame activity I can't remember (probably drinks), paid for everything, took her home on my car... and then she refused to let me go upstairs!

Dude. Duuuuuude. And dudettes too, of course. No. If you want to get your money's worth, go to a proper sex worker, who will charge you accordingly for their services. Don't expect the other person to feel obligated to pay you with their body just because you fed them and threw a movie ticket in the package!

I had one friend go on a date with a guy. The date didn't work out, so they went their separate ways... until the guy showed up on her doorstep asking her to reimburse him for coffee and a donut. I shit you not. She was so dumbfounded she actually paid him back so he would leave, and I'm glad she did, because that, my friend, is rapist material on the making.

• ...they are a sex worker?

Answer: No, you creepy freak, absolutely not. Every single point I mentioned above applies to every human being on the planet and active or inactive Space stations. You cannot force yourself on anyone, you cannot violate consent ever. It doesn't matter if you're fooling around with the biblical whores of Babylon or the entire cast of Full Monty after a round of the blue pill. Consent protects everyone, no matter what they do for a living.

I'm so happy that all these points are not gonna be news for most of you. Awareness is spreading and the new generations are taught about consent since they are little kids. My generation, and most of all my generation in my country, dominated by a traditional patriarchal society, heard nothing of it. "Rape is bad, avoid rape" was taught mostly as a warning tale for girls. It was the girls' responsibility to prevent rape. Don't walk alone at night. Don't use slutty clothes. Don't be provocative towards men. Don't drink too much. Don't stare too much. Don't go to non-respectable places. Don't put yourself in danger.

I think things would significantly change if the song was played differently. Don't teach girls how to prevent rape. Don't teach boys that rape is bad and that "real men" don't need it.

Teach everyone about consent. Rape is only one of the grim consequences of violating consent. There are thousands of different traumatizing situations that could be avoided if we only respected consent all the time, if we were taught about healthy boundaries and personal integrity since kids.

But hey, we're getting there. I hope. I wish.

• Disclaimer: actually, I think disclaimers like this should not be needed, but still. In case you feel the urge of accusing me of speaking from theory... nope. I speak from experience. Personal experience. Experience I wish I didn't have, and that I had a very hard time harvesting to learn and become stronger. So yeah. Shut the fuck up, go out there and respect the shit out of people.

#consent #coercion #harrassment #r*ape #r*pe mention #victim blaming #it's 6 am here why I am writing about this at this ungodly hour

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foxtophat · 3 years

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i dont have much to say about this one!!! it’s just a story about carmina’s tenth birthday, and how the town of fall’s end is coping a decade after the collapse. uhhh there are some random children in it? bean is there! and of course john shows up, too, because that’s KIND OF THE POINT of mercyverse lol

technically there’s a story that comes before this, but i don’t have the vibe yet for it so i haven’t worked on it in a while. instead, i’ll probably just keep moving forward and throw up that one if the rest of the plot becomes at all relevant to the real main storyline. uhhh the next one will take place in the spring of 2029 and we’re going to start getting into some fun stuff that i’ve planned out for a while!!!

until then, uh, the usual: love you, please like/share/reblog/kudos/comment, whatever you feel good about doing, because i sure do love to share my universe with other people! hope you’re doing well and hopefully i’ll see you with another fic in a few weeks!

also as usual: the story text is below the cut for those of you who wanna stay on tumblr :)

It's Carmina's tenth birthday, and there's a party in town. The two things aren't exactly related, sure, but Carmina's used to sharing her birthday with the Collapse, and she's not about to turn down a bunch of free food. How can she not go to a real Hope County barbecue after her parents had hyped the experience up so much in the bunker? She'd hoped that her ninth birthday would have gotten a similar treatment, but the town just didn't have the food or people for it at the time. Her parents had told her that next year would be better; Carmina does her best to keep her imagination from blowing the whole thing out of proportion.

They leave a little bit after breakfast. Since John is coming along, mom has no excuse not to let Carmina ride in the back with him. He's not excited to be heading into town, but then again, the town isn't usually excited to see him, either. And considering what day it is, they're likely to be extra rude to him. Carmina doesn't get it, honestly, but she's just glad that she can ride in back without her mom grabbing onto her at every pothole and bump in the road.

The first surprise of the day comes as her dad parks just past the church, giving her a chance to stand up and look out over the town. She hasn't been here in a while, and so she's surprised to see that they've cleared out a lot of the dirt lot behind the usable buildings — and there are a lot of people hanging out there. Carmina's never seen so many people at once — she loses count around twenty and can easily guess double that. It's enough to rattle her nerves for just a second, before she catches the looks on her mom and dads' faces and realizes that this is probably a good thing. Sure, John looks like he wants to hop back in the truck and go home, but he always looks like that around strangers. Her parents, on the other hand, actually seem happy for once, and that's what matters to Carmina.

The second surprise is just how many of the adults seem to know her. Her parents move slowly through the mingling crowd, usually coming up with names for faces before Carmina's even looked at the strangers who call her by name. She gets lots of comments like, "I remember when your parents were expecting you!" and "I was wondering how the Rye's little girl turned out!" and even a few, "Glad to see you made it," comments that make her parents side-eye each other pretty fiercely. She doesn't need to introduce herself to anyone, not even people who her parents don't know so well — it's like everybody's always known her, and her family. It's kind of cool — but also kind of weird. Pastor Jerome always said that their family was a pillar in the community, but this is first-person evidence, right here in front of her.

Plenty of the adults wish her a happy birthday, too, but she knows their hearts aren't in it. It's one of the big drawbacks to sharing her birthday with the end of the world — nobody asks how old she is, nobody wants to know what she did on previous birthdays, and all of them have to make some kind of depressing comment. Like trying to get her to relate to birthdays before the Collapse: all they want to do is tell her about all the things she could be doing, or would be doing, if only the world hadn't ended. They want to share their birthdays from the past, but Carmina's never been to the movies, she doesn't know who Disney is, and she has no idea why they'd need a cake and candles for it all. Somebody tells her she should be graduating to the fourth grade, and she just stares back because what even is the fourth grade? What does that mean?

They mean well, so Carmina does her best not to upset anybody, but she knows that nobody appreciates how little she cares about life before the Collapse.

At least there are other kids in town today. Her mom had been telling her about some of them — kids who don't have families, who the town looks after — but Carmina's only ever met one of them, and that had been only for a few minutes. But Carmina can see them hanging out in the field, and as soon as her mom lets her, she heads right out to them. It's about time that she met people her age — she's getting tired of only ever talking to old people.

Of course, meeting strangers is still difficult for her, but she's saved from too much embarrassment as she recognizes the chicken brothers hanging out in the small group. She can't remember which one is Tom and which one is Matt, but they seemed really nice when they helped her pick out her chickens. She also recognizes the oldest boy in the group, although she can't remember his name at all. She's never seen the others before — two teenage girls, another boy her age, and a kid a couple years younger than her — but hopefully she won't make a total fool of herself.

"Hi," she says as she approaches, waving.

"Hey, Carmina," Matt-or-Tom says, stepping aside to make room for her in their makeshift circle. "I thought we would see you today."

"Yep," Carmina smiles, "Here I am!" She sees the teenagers' curious looks and tells them with little fanfare, "Today's my birthday."

"Oh," the oldest boy says. "That sucks."

One of the girls elbows him. "Don't be mean," she says.

"No, he's right," Carmina says. "It does suck."

"Well, happy birthday anyway. How old are you now?"

"Ten."

"Wow," the girl says. She looks at the boy, then back to Carmina, and says sympathetically, "You weren't kidding. That's rough."

Giggling with relief, Carmina waves once more. "It's okay. My name's Carmina, by the way. It's nice to meet you."

Being polite works like a charm, and the oldest boy is quick to go around with introductions. "Well, I'm Jason — this is Caroline, and this is Flower. The little kid there —"

"Hey!"

"— Is Bean, and... Sorry, man, what did you say your name was again?"

The other ten-year-old looking boy frowns and shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. "Luke," he says.

"Okay, Luke. And you know Tom and Matt."

"We were talking about the bison out in the field," Tom-or-Matt says. He points in the direction of home and asks, "Did you guys see the big one when you were coming into town?"

"The one that's all white?" Carmina asks, "With the big scar over its hump? We see that one all the time when we come out this way —"

"No, no," the other brother says, "Jason says there's a bigger one."

"I told you guys," Jason says, "I only saw it once, and it was late at night while I was up in the crow's nest. I don't think it comes out during the day."

Carmina frowns. "What big one? What do you mean?"

"Oh, boy," Caroline sighs, "Don't listen to him, Carmina, he's full of shit."

"Hey, language," Flower laughs.

"Look, I was pretty far away, but I had the sniper rifle and I wasn't sleeping on the job. Uh, so..." He points out over the field, towards a squat set of huts surrounding a tall, busted silo that's still standing. The view from up there must be great. "Jerome has me sit up in that tower sometimes, you know, to practice. So I was up there, looking around, and it was probably midnight or so... and I just see this glow out in the field. I think it's a fire, right? Maybe somebody made a camp out there on their way to town or something. So I look out through the scope — and it was a bison."

"A glowing bison?" Carmina asks skeptically.

"Yeah. Like, a monster bison. It was all dark and scaly looking, except for the way its belly glowed. I thought about shooting it, but..."

Caroline laughs. "He got scared. Or it wasn't real, and he's making it all up."

"I wasn't scared, and I'm not making it up! It's not like it could've hurt me up in the nest. It... just didn't feel right. You know, it was just grazing with the rest of the herd. And it moved off over the hill before I could change my mind or call anybody up to confirm it."

"Sure, Jason."

"I'm serious," Jason insists, "I really saw it, okay? I told Jerome about it and everything." He frowns at the dirt. "He said it might've been mutated after the bombs. Then he told me not to go looking for it."

"He's right," Flower says. "Even regular bison are pretty dangerous." She smiles. "That's why I like deer — they won't hurt you. If you sit really still, sometimes they'll even come up and lick your face."

"Oh," Carmina says. "I usually just shoot them. They eat all our vegetables otherwise."

"Yeah," Flower sighs, "Sometimes I do, too. But they're also nice to watch."

Tom-or-Matt looks to his brother. "I wonder if that's what we see outside at night?"

"What, deer?"

"No, dumbass." He turns to the group and explains, "Sometimes, when it's real late and I gotta use the bathroom, I'll see something glowing out in the woods. Dad's cut back a lot of space so it never gets very close, but... maybe it's another mutated animal."

"At least you'll see it coming when it tries to attack you," Carmina suggests.

"Gee, thanks."

Carmina knows he's probably teasing, but she still feels guilty for being so blunt about it. The least she can do is try to reassure him. "Well... most animals don't attack near houses, I don't think. When we first came out of the bunker, there were wild dogs and wolves that would watch us, and my dad was real worried about them — but now they mostly stay away from the property. I think it's because of the fence. You guys have a fence, right?"

"Yeah, plus a butt-load of chickens that freak out over anything out of the ordinary." Matt-or-Tom grins at her and asks, "Don't they wake you up with every little thing?"

Carmina briefly considers mentioning John being attacked, then decides against it. She also doesn't want to tell them that the chickens live mostly indoors at night now — the last thing she wants to do is kick off a whole big thing about the cult on her dang birthday! It's already hard enough pretending to care about them around her parents; she's not sure she could even force herself to bother here. And if she's not careful, the kids in town might start to think about her and her family the same way all the adults do.

"They're pretty docile, actually," she says, "And we only really see deer around our place... It's not like they eat chickens."

"Well.... maybe there's a mutant deer out there that wants to eat you," Tom-or-Matt teases.

Carmina rolls her eyes. "I'll shoot it before it gets past the hangar," she replies.

Of course, her dismissive confidence leads to a sprawling discussion on who might be the best shot out of the group. Carmina does her best to defend her skills, considering she can't prove any of it right now, but all three teens insist they're dead-eyes, and even Bean says he's "getting pretty good at the aiming part." On top of that, the kids from the town have gotten pointers from Aunt Grace herself, which means they might actually be better shots than Carmina expects.

"Maybe we should have a competition," Caroline suggests. "I bet Pastor Jerome and Aunt Grace would be okay with it."

"Sure," Jason laughs, "But you know they'd make us spend forty minutes disassembling and cleaning our rifles before and after. Like I don't know what I'm doing — I'm almost fifteen!"

"Have you guys been to Aunt Grace's?" Carmina asks. "She has a shooting range there."

"Maybe she'd let us use it!"

"I've never been to a real shooting range," Bean says.

"It's not a real shooting range," Jason points out, "Those all got blown up. Do you even know how to use a gun, Bean?"

"I just said I do! My dad taught me! I... just don't like the loud noises it makes."

Matt-or-Tom boasts, "We learned to shoot in our bunker. Mom collected Airsoft guns — they don't use bullets, so they can't kill you."

"What's the point of that?"

"I dunno, I guess practicing underground?"

Tom-or-Matt laughs. "Dad was convinced the Peggies were gonna get us, so he wanted us to know how to shoot."

The quiet kid, Luke, finally speaks up. "Lucky," he mutters, "Easier to learn underground, I bet."

"What about you?" Carmina asks. She tries not to cringe away when he stares back at her like he didn't expect anyone to hear him. Maybe he doesn't like people talking to him? "Um... my mom and dad had a bunch of gun magazines in the bunker, but I never got to shoot a real gun until we came outside. Mom and Aunt Grace have been teaching me, though, and I'm way better than my dad is."

Luke hesitates. "Kind of the same. We came up early, though. Had to."

"Me, too," Jason replies. "It was just me and my brother. I was five when we got stuck in the bunker — we went through our supplies in about three years, so we had to come back up."

"We... only stayed down until I could walk," Luke admits. "It was still really cold when we came up. And mom got real sick for a while."

"Yikes," Bean says, "That sucks!"

"Come on, bean," Jason snaps, "You don't say that."

"You just said it to her!" Bean shouts, pointing at Carmina.

"He's... right," Luke mumbles. "It sucked. It... still sucks. But things are getting better now." He looks up at them, then drops his eyes back to the dirt. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Carmina insists, "I asked first!"

"That's kind of the mood today," Caroline adds. "Don't worry. We can talk about something else."

The change in topic comes abruptly as Bean points towards the Church and asks, "Who is that with Pastor Jerome?"

Carmina doesn't need to look, but since the rest of the group does, she might as well too. John has his hat pulled low over his eyes, as usual, which makes him look suspicious, as usual. Knowing him, he probably didn't even leave the truck — just waited there for Jerome to come talk to him.

She can only hope that Tom and Matt keep their mouths shut since they're the only other kids who know what John looks like nowadays. Unfortunately for her, that hope is pretty quickly dashed.

"Oh," Matt-or-Tom says, like a jerk, "That's John, I think. Right, Carmina?"

"Wait," Jason says, "You're that Carmina?"

Carmina ducks her head. "Um... it depends, I guess?"

Flower, looking too sympathetic for Carmina's liking, tries to mediate. "He just means, well... Jerome talks about you sometimes."

"And he talks about that guy," Jason adds, pointing without any subtlety at all.

"Everyone talks about that guy," Caroline says with a sigh. She gives Carmina a sympathetic shrug as she does, as though she wishes she could stop the conversation from happening, too. That only makes Carmina worried that this isn't the first time the teenagers have sat around gossiping about John and the crazy people who decided to take him in.

"Wait," Bean gasps, way too loudly, "That's John Seed?"

"Oh my God," Matt-or-Tom sighs, "You gotta keep up with the conversation."

"Wait, what's he doing here? Why's he going into the church? I thought he wasn't supposed to come to town? I thought he was locked up!"

Carmina groans. "It's my birthday," she whines, "I don't wanna talk about John today!"

"We don't have to," Caroline says. "Guys, come on."

"I mean, he did kill a lot of people. Isn't he, like, a psychopath? Isn't it weird to live with a murderer?"

"Jason!"

Luke mutters, "I heard he used to cut off people's skin."

"That's true," Jason replies, "My brother has a huge scar from when it happened to him. Boy, I hope he doesn't see that jackass is here..."

Matt-or-Tom finally seems to realize what he's started, frowning as the conversation spirals crazily out of control. It's too late to stop it, though, and so he shuffles his feet and looks apologetically towards Carmina.

Fine. If she can't get around the subject, she's just going to have to tackle it head-on. Even if that sounds really scary. She doesn't think that these guys are going to flip out like the caravan last year did, but she's still a little worried that she might be in for a fight if she says the wrong thing about John.

"I know John used to be a bad guy," she says. "Like, really bad. My dad's got one of those scars, too. But he's not like that any more. All he does nowadays is help my parents with chores and stuff. And he's just like everybody else — he doesn't talk about what happened before the Collapse to me or anybody. So I really don't know anything more than you guys.

She probably knows less than them, honestly, but she's not about to say so and get a brutal lesson in everything John's ever done wrong.

"So he's just... different, now?" Jason asks, frowning unhappily at the church.

"I guess so," Carmina replies with a shrug. She looks over to make sure that John and Jerome are inside, just in case. "He's not... scary, or mean, or anything like that. Just quiet. Kind of... lonely, I guess. Ever since he found out his brother is alive but still crazy, he's been really beat up about it." He's also been literally beaten up over it, but now's not the time to try and make the others feel sorry for him. John would probably be irritated at the idea of a bunch of kids pitying him.

Matt-or-Tom is quick to help her out, which is nice. "She's right," he says. "The Father is still out there in the woods with all those crazies, but John's repented. Dad said he made amends with God, whatever that means. He... uh, still doesn't like us being around him, but when we helped him load the chickens in he seemed okay. Just real quiet."

"That's John, alright," Carmina sighs.

Bean looks seriously disappointed by the news. "You mean he doesn't talk about it at all?" he asks.

"No," Carmina says, snapping for good measure, "And he gets really upset when you ask about it, so don't."

"I'm not gonna go talk to him!" Bean gasps.

The idea that a kid might be scared of John is pretty funny, considering how uncomfortable he is around her, but Carmina's not about to say as much. John probably wouldn't like her sharing a weakness like that with a bunch of strangers, and she wouldn't want them using it against him later.

Flower slowly lifts her hand, looking embarrassed. "Some of the adults in town say the Bliss messed him up. Is that... true?"

Well, at least she's trying to be nice about it. "I dunno," Carmina admits. "He was super weird when he first started living with us, but that might've just been because he was stuck in his bunker for so long."

"Oh, that happened to a guy my dad knows!" Bean supplies helpfully. "Dad calls it bunker shock. Says living underground too long is bad for you when you're all alone!"

"Glad I didn't live in one long enough for that," Luke says. When everyone looks at him, he clams up for a second before continuing on. "A neighbor came up just this year. He's... real weird. I don't like him much. He still sleeps underground, hoping he'll wake up and it'll all be a dream." He scuffs his boot against the dirt, sniffing loudly. "That's what my mom says, anyway. I try not to be around when he comes by."

"He wouldn't be the first adult to be like that," Jason says. He gives the church one last look before nodding his head towards the party. "I mean, that's why we're all the way out here, instead of hanging out around the food. Right?"

"No," Bean replies, "I'm out here 'cos I can't eat another bite! I didn't know you could be this full."

Caroline laughs. "Yeah, the adults have been stockpiling for weeks, it looks like... I guess everyone was really looking forward to it — or, well, I guess that's what it is."

Flower gazes over at the gaggle of adults. Carmina recognizes her dreamy smile from the way her mom looks around the house sometimes, like she's getting a new, better look at the place.

"It feels like things are starting to look up," she says. "Maybe they can all be happier now."

"Hey, don't jinx it!" Tom-or-Matt laughs.

Bean looks around at the rest of them and for a second, Carmina is worried he's going to ask more about John and restart the whole ugly conversation. Thankfully, it looks like he's still a baby, so he's quickly distracted.

"So, what do we do now?" he asks, pushing his too-big glasses up his nose.

Carmina has never actually played with other kids before, so she doesn't have any good suggestions — especially when shooting is off-limits. Thankfully, she isn't the only one. The teenagers don't know where their soccer ball went, and Luke says he doesn't even know what soccer is. Bean says he usually plays word games by himself. When Tom-or-Matt suggests they play something called "capture the flag," it manages to make its way to the top of the list just because Jason and Caroline have both heard of it before.

Well, at least something is better than nothing. The older kids explain how capture the flag works, using Jason's shirt for their team's flag while the other kids band together around Matt-or-Tom's sweaty tank top. Carmina imagines that one of them should sit out for even teams, but the older kids seem confident that they can handle it. Too confident, in Carmina's opinion — maybe they need to be brought down a peg.

Capture the flag turns out to be more fun than Carmina had expected — and a lot harder, too. Trying to outmaneuver the older kids is tough work, but she and Tom-or-Matt figure out how to flank them pretty quick. There's nothing better than the moment when Carmina manages to dive out of the way when Jason tries to tackle her, and even if she gets dog-piled by Flower halfway back to Bean at home base, she holds Jason's shirt up for another teammate to take.

Unfortunately, the game ends without a winner as a sharp whistle pierces the air. Bean looks up and shouts, "That's my dad! I better go!"

He runs off at full tilt without so much as a goodbye, and Carmina has to squint against the setting sun to watch him go. She hadn't realized how late it had gotten.

"I should probably get going, too," Luke says, sweaty and almost smiling for once. "I want to get another plate of food before we go home."

"Ugh," Carmina sighs, "And the chickens need feeding."

"Just make John do it," Matt-or-Tom says, apparently not learning his lesson about mentioning John.

"It's supposed to be my job," she says. "And anyway, he already feeds them in the morning when I don't get up in time."

"They're gonna like him more than you," Tom-or-Matt laughs.

Jason frowns. "He feeds your chickens?"

"I mean... yeah. He does whatever we need him to." Carmina shrugs, glancing back towards the church. She hasn't seen Jerome or John leave — maybe she should go see them before she rounds up her parents? Nah, it's better to leave them alone until the very last minute.

"Just... didn't think you'd let him near livestock, that's all."

"What's he gonna do, poison the eggs?" Carmina huffs. "He's good with them. I think he likes them 'cos they aren't judgey."

Caroline frowns, which tells Carmina she might've been a little rude. But Jason's been rude about John all day, so she's not going to feel sorry about it!

"Well, I guess if your parents trust him..."

"Sure they do," Carmina replies, even if that's not... exactly right. She knows her parents trust John enough to help around the house, but she thinks they only want to trust him with all the other stuff.

"I really better go," she says, pointing towards town.

"Sure," Flower says. "It was nice to meet you, Carmina."

Carmina gives them her best grin, relieved when it's returned from the others. Jason even waves like there's no hard feelings. "It was nice meeting you guys," she says.

"Happy birthday again!" Matt-or-Tom says, "And be careful!"

"Yeah," his brother laughs, "Wouldn't want to have a glowing deer attack you in the outhouse tonight!"

Carmina laughs away the dumb attempt to scare her, waving goodbye before turning to head for the party. Halfway there, she glances over her shoulder and sees the group turned back to one-another in conversation. None of them are looking back, but as she continues on, she's chased by an unfamiliar sense of discomfort. She can't help but wonder if they're still talking about John in the church.... If they're talking about her.

At least she can distract herself while looking for her parents. There are plenty of adults who say hello; some of them even point her helpfully towards her mom's last known location, or towards the table with the cookies her dad really liked. Some of them check in to make sure her birthday has been going well, too, which is nice of them, but a lot of adults are pretty drunk and deep in their own conversations.

She eventually finds her mom and dad standing around a grill with Marjorie, one of the adults in charge around town. Carmina's met her a couple of times. She's nice, but she can talk a lot. There's no telling how long they've been talking for, and if Carmina doesn't interrupt, who knows when they'll finish. While she could probably grab some food for the road, first she has to make sure that they're actually going to be leaving sometime before the next Collapse.

Besides, it looks like her dad's already got a box of leftovers in his hands. If Carmina wants to eat, she's going to have to interrupt.

"Hey dad," she says as she comes up to them, "The chickens are going to need dinner soon."

Her dad grins at her before handing over the squat, open cardboard box. There's chicken, ribs, corn and roasted potatoes, and even a handful of cookies and flatbread; it takes everything in Carmina's power not to make a desperate grab for more food. She doesn't have to worry about going hungry tonight, so there's no need to eat everything put in front of her.

"Here," he tells her, "You take this, alright? My arms are gettin' tired."

Yeah, right. As soon as she takes the box, he uses one of those tired arms to grab one of the ribs. When Carmina frowns suspiciously at him, her dad only shrugs.

"I coughed on it."

"Uh-huh..."

Laughing, her mom reaches out to give Marjorie a hug. It might've run a little long, but her mom obviously enjoyed the talk. "We'll be back in a week or two with the tractor parts," she says. "You're going to get the fields back in shape in no time."

"Already got a good start," Marjorie replies. She shoots Carmina a warm smile. "Happy birthday, by the way! Don't think I got to see you much. Hope those kids weren't giving you a hard time."

"No," Carmina replies., "They're all really nice. We want to practice shooting together, maybe have a contest. Jason said he's better than anybody else."

"I bet you're gonna give him a run for his money!" Marjorie laughs. "Well, the better a shot you are, the better off you'll be. You won't see anybody here stop you kids."

"Yeah, but tonight, I have to feed the chickens," Carmina says, just in case her parents need another chance to get out of here.

"We've got a few other people to say goodbye to," her mom tells her. "Why don't you take the food back to the truck? We'll meet you there."

"Should I get John, too?"

As soon as she asks, Carmina decides she probably shouldn't have brought it up. Too late, though; by the look on Marjorie's face, there's no way to pretend she didn't hear it.

Her dad shrugs. "Probably oughta," he tells her, as if he doesn't see Marjorie staring at them like she is.

Marjorie definitely doesn't like that, judging by the way she squints, but she doesn't say anything about it. "Well, I hope you had a decent enough birthday for once," she says, "Hopefully we'll be having a party around this time every year from now on."

"That would be nice," mom says.

"Just you wait, we're gonna turn this ship around one way or another." Marjorie gestures with her hands and says, "Alright, you better go, before those chickens of yours eat each other."

Carmina frowns. "They don't do that, do they?"

"Uh, let's get moving," her dad says. "See you soon, Marg."

"Take care!"

Her mom and dad have to stop a few more times to say goodbye to people Carmina doesn't know, but she pushes on without them and nobody stops her for more than a quick birthday greeting. She catches sight of Luke packing up some food with his parents, but he's too distracted to notice her. At least she isn't the only one carrying a box of leftovers out of here; it would feel selfish of her if they weren't sending leftovers home with other people.

Her parents haven't caught up with her by the time she reaches the truck, and John is nowhere to be seen. She figures he's probably still in the church — he and Pastor Jerome always take forever when they're talking. They'll probably be there until dad goes in and breaks them up.

Eating by herself in the back of the truck doesn't feel right, especially not within walking distance of the church. Leaving the food tucked in the corner by the cab, Carmina heads for the building herself. Even if nobody was in there, she'd probably go wander inside for a few minutes; it's a comforting, quiet place in the dry, dusty town. But right now, she's pretty sure John is hanging around inside, and he probably hasn't eaten anything all day, either. She should at least let him have first pick.

She knows a lot of the adults dislike the church, but Carmina personally enjoys how its sun-bleached siding stands out against the sky. Besides the house, the church is one of the few places Carmina wishes she could have seen in one piece. She's seen old, faded pictures from ancient newspaper clippings, but it's just not the same.

The doors are open wide enough for Carmina to slip in without a sound. The air inside is cool, almost chilly, and it smells like dirt and grass. From the entrance, there's only a narrow gap keeping Jerome and John out of sight. She doesn't mean to hide, but she doesn't want to interrupt Jerome mid-sentence...

It's too late, she's eavesdropping.

"It might not be much, but it's something," Jerome's saying. "He even stayed a few nights, when the wind got bad and brought too much pollen over the river."

"It would be better for everyone if he stayed here permanently," John replies. "Wallace went further down the path than the rest of them, and they clearly don't know what they're doing."

"They're trying, John. And we don't have a say in the matter. It's got to be his choice. Remember?"

John grunts, clearly annoyed. Carmina doesn't think she's ever heard him say so much before. Does he talk to her mom and dad this much? Is he really only quiet around her?

"I don't like it," John says.

"For what it's worth, neither do I. But Sharky's taking things seriously — they all are. You're going to have to trust them."

"Trust isn't exactly one of my virtues," John grumpily admits.

Jerome chuckles. "You just need practice."

Well, Carmina definitely feels guilty now. She had only been waiting for an opening, but if she waits any longer, she's really going to be breaking John's trust. Pastor Jerome's, too, for that matter.

Thinking on her toes, Carmina pushes on the already open door as though she's just showing up. Of course, the hinges squeal in protest as soon as she does, so she stops before she breaks something.

"Are you guys still in here?" she calls. She's pretty convincing about it, in her opinion.

"Yes, Carmina," Jerome responds, apparently none-the-wiser, "We're here."

John regards her neutrally as she steps into view, but he's always wearing his poker face around her. She needs to get better at reading it.

"I guess it's time to go, then," he says.

"Yeah. Um — I mean, I can meet you back at the truck. Mom and dad will be here soon..."

Jerome speaks up before John can get the chance. "No, you two go on. I think we were just about done ourselves, and I'd like to sit here for a little while, before it gets too dark." He and John shake hands, and then he comes over to give Carmina a hug. "Happy birthday," he tells her. "You be good for another year, alright?"

"I'll try," she says.

"That'a girl," Jerome laughs. "Keep an eye on her, John."

Sometimes, it seems like Jerome is the only adult in Hope County that doesn't think John is a bad influence on her. Even her mom and dad, who are basically the only people on John's side, get uncomfortable if she tries to talk to him too much. But Jerome is a special case. He used to be weird about anything John-related, but nowadays? Honestly, Carmina's pretty sure he's John's only friend at this point — well, okay, other than mom and dad, but they don't count.

John waits until they've left the church to speak. He's chilly and dismissive, as usual.

"How long were you listening for?"

"I wasn't," Carmina begins — but she can't lie to him. Lying only ever makes things worse. So she corrects herself reluctantly and admits, "It was only a minute. I didn't mean to... it just sort of happened."

"Hm."

Normally, Carmina can't get a read on John's poker face, but... huh. She can't help but feel like she might've... hurt his feelings? She definitely wasn't being trustworthy, that's for sure. And now he's trying to casually out-pace her on the walk back to the truck.

"I'm sorry for eavesdropping," she says, picking up her pace to match his. "I promise, I won't do it again."

John glares at her, but she's pretty sure he's not angry. Maybe just confused? She's not sure, he's never looked at her longer than two seconds before.

"I... appreciate it," he replies instead, which makes it the first time he's ever accepted an apology of hers. Usually, he just tells her not to worry about it.

Carmina grins at him, but he's already looked away, so of course he doesn't see it. Instead, he looks to the field, where the three teens from town are still hanging out. Carmina can't tell if they're looking this way or not. She sure hopes they aren't; John would know immediately that they gossiped about him, and she's already messed up with him once today.

"Have you ever played capture the flag?" she asks, hoping to distract him. "The chicken brothers taught us the rules but I think they maybe made some of it up."

John cracks a small smile. Well, Carmina will pretend it's one, anyway.

"The chicken brothers," he repeats.

"You know, Tommy and Matt."

"Do they know that's what you call them?"

"I mean, I've never said it to their faces..."

"That's probably smart."

They reach the truck, which marks the invisible barrier that keeps John out of town. Of course, mom and dad still aren't here. If Carmina climbed up on top of the truck, she might be able to spot them, but it's not like she could get their attention from this far away. So, she's going to have to kill time until they get back.

"Did you eat?" she asks, climbing up into the truck bed.

"I'm fine, Carmina," John replies, a little wearily. Like she's not the first person to bug him about it today — or, maybe like he lacks energy from not eating all day.

She rolls her eyes, but John doesn't see. "Uh-huh." She sits down, pulling the box of food into her lap as she leans back against the cab. "Dad was surprised that there were cookies. Um, not exactly the same, I guess? But still really good." She's not going to give him a chance to turn it down, grabbing one and shoving it in his direction. "Here, try one!"

John, leaning against the side of the truck like he is, is clearly more interested in looking for her parents than humoring her. He definitely looks like he wants to say no. But to her surprise, he actually takes the offered food. It would be weird to stare at him while he eats, so she goes back to debating between a chicken leg or one of the last ribs in the box.

"Not bad," John comments, which is like, crazy, because Carmina definitely isn't goading him into talking.

"They're kind of crumbly," Carmina says, "I dunno if that's what it's supposed to be like. But all the food is really good." She counts the chicken legs out again, just to make sure there's one for each of them. "Um... hey, John? Uh... do chickens eat each other?"

John frowns, chewing the question over with the rest of the cookie. He swallows, then says, "Most animals cannibalize their own if they're desperate enough."

"Oh."

"They would need to be left alone for a lot longer than a few hours," he points out. "Or they would have to be sick. It's more likely a dog will get them before they turn on each other."

Well, at least Carmina can trust John to tell her the truth, even if it's probably not the way her parents would want him to do it. She doesn't even mind him being so blunt about it, either; she's just surprised he's willing to talk to her. She can't help but wonder if this is going to be a normal thing, now that she's ten — is he going to stop being so weird around her? Or is this just a special treat, because of the day? She sure hopes not. It'd be a lot less awkward if John didn't act so scared of her all the time.

Her parents finally join them at the truck. Her mom wrinkles her nose at Carmina sitting in the back again, but she doesn't say anything. Her dad doesn't seem to mind; once he spots the box in Carmina's lap, he reaches over to grab one of the shortbread cookies for himself.

"Sorry about that," he says, "We got held up a couple times. John, you try one of these yet?"

"I did."

"Crazy having home-baked goods again, right?" Her dad waggles the cookie in John's face; John rolls his eyes and circles back around to the tailgate, climbing up into the bed. "Here, Carmina, give me that box so the food doesn't get too cold on the way home."

"You're just gonna eat everything," Carmina objects, handing over the box anyway.

"Nah, come on. Here, you guys grab something for the ride home." He nudges Carmina's shoulder with the box. "You probably worked up an appetite bullying all the older kids out there — and I bet you didn't eat much of anything, either," he adds in John's direction.

"I had a cookie, didn't I?"

"Yeah, I'll bet nobody forced you into it, either."

Carmina grins as her dad winks at her. Her mom rolls her eyes, but doesn't keep dad from bullying John a little. "Grab something so we can get going," she tells John, "And make sure she doesn't stand up once we're in drive."

John reluctantly takes a towel-wrapped ear of corn and a single rib, while Carmina goes right for that piece of chicken she'd been eying from the start. That helps her make peace with sitting safely, at least this one time. Next year, she's definitely going to get to ride in back by herself, she can feel it, and she is going to do it standing up!

As Carmina watches the town shrink behind them, she congratulates herself on another successful birthday. It'd been better than she'd expected — she was a little uncomfortable around so many people at first, but now she's pretty sure she can say she's made some friends? And seeing the town full of food and laughter and music... It had been sort of what Carmina imagines Fall's End used to be like. Her parents probably wouldn't agree, but maybe that's okay. Maybe when she's older, she can try and prove to them that things can be just as good as they used to be — even if it's a different kind of good.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #fcnd #new dawn #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #carmina rye #far cry fanfic #my fic

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