#i was diagnosed at like almost 17 and yeah that's a long time to go undiagnosed but uhhhhh i could've actually worked on helping

[ghostselkie]

White raven soulmate AU idea

So I'm probably going to write a white raven soulmate au, likely set in the same time that they lived in cause I want to explore how the social season would look in a world where soulmates existed.

This is going to be a what you write and draw on your skin appears on your soulmate's skin. The question is, how to construct a believable Victorian high society where soulmates exist. Now I believe in this au high society, conversing with your soulmate was a privet affair, and that it was considered rude to ask about another's soulmate. The only information one would get is what was volunteered. Though, if you ever wanted to meet you're soulmate it was almost necessary that you talk about them. This brings us to the social season. Why would a social season be necessary in a world where every one had a destined match. We'll it would be for people who did not disclose information about their soul mate, or where their soulmate was assumed to be platonic, i.e. people who's soulmate is the same gender as them (yes homophobia likely still exists). Yeah, the social season probably resulted in a lot of lavender weddings. Though people who did disclose information about their soulmate, and it wasn't assumed to be platonic still likely participated to a degree as a means of networking. Now I defiantly think Annabel would keep the fact that her soulmate was a woman a secret, so would Lenore. Regardless of weather they do or not, social season and arranged mirage stuff will still happen.

Where the story starts to diverge is after Theo's death. Yes he's likely going to die. Sorry. This is because Annabel and Lenore can communicate with each other. I don't know how old Annabel was when the tree fell on Lenore, so lets do some guess work based on the hints we are given.

Now to figure out how long Lenore was in the attic. We know that the earliest the tree could have fell on Lenore between November 1895 (when the x-ray was discovered) to February 1896 (it's first clinical use in the US) due the reference to the x-ray theoretically being used diagnose a break. We can assume that Lenore and Annabel died in 1901 based on the mug shot art with the year in the corner, something that the Barbie movie did not add.

This gives us a window of roughly 5 years to work with.

Now in the Victorian era, women had their social debut at the age of 17 or 18. But given modern sensibilities, I am inclined to say she was 18.

Considering that Annabel had two social seasons before meeting Lenore, and that they meet in the last year of their life, this gives us an age gap of 3 years. Three years to plan for how they are going meet up.

Now given the time they have to plan, instead of Annabel going to America and white raven meeting by chance, Lenore will be going to London.

#nevermore webtoon #nevermore #annabel lee nevermore #lenore nevermore #annabel lee x lenore #white raven #lennabel #annabel lee whitlock #lenore vandernacht

[secret-sturniolo]

just a long vent. read (or dont) idc

not that anyone really cares, but i just have some things i need to get off my chest because im currently alone in my room crying in the dark.

let me preface this by saying i dont have any friends. i literally do not have a single person i can talk to. i dont even have a therapist because she just quit. the last friend group i had, i found out they had a secret group chat where they were shit talking and making fun of me. so, the closest thing to friends i have are my 151 followers and the people in this fandom. when i log on here and i see that people have interacted with me or like my works, thats literally the highlight of my day. so to anyone who has talked to me or shown me support, i truly thank you and i love you.

if you met my family, you would think we have it all. my parents own a successful business, they (appear) happily married, and my brother and i have everything we could ever want or need. but heres the truth:

my parents are alcoholics. every night its the same thing. they get drunk, they fight and yell and say nasty things about each other until one of them goes to bed and they sleep in different rooms. im the one who has to mediate things. im the one who has to send my little brother to bed so he doesnt have to hear them. im the one who cleans up the spilled drinks. im the one who drove us to the hotel when my dad was being verbally abusive. and when my mom almost died in the ICU a month ago as a direct result of drinking, i was the one visiting her multiple times a day. i was the one at home doing all of the dishes, all of the laundry, all of the cleaning, and bringing my brother to and from school ON TOP OF my own schoolwork and going to work every evening all because my dad is lazy and doesnt get out of bed until 1pm.

they swore to me that they were done drinking. and when they lasted 3 days and got drunk again, i didnt shame them. i didnt say anything at all. in fact, i showed them support.

wanna guess what i get in return for all of that?

i get told that im the one whos tearing our family apart, that if they get divorced its my fault. that maybe if i was nicer we would have less problems.

and god forbid that i have a bad day sometimes like a normal human being, because then i get accused of not taking my medications.

they also like to act like my mental health problems are harder on them than they are on me as if they didnt literally play a role in me developing them. a year ago i had to go to another state to receive inpatient and residential treatment because i was anorexic and suicidal. let me tell you, thats not a vacation. i have clinically diagnosed ptsd from things i witnessed there. all those times they had to take me to the hospital? yeah, not fun for me either. i promise you, nobody has tubes shoved up their nose just for shits and giggles.

you guys, im only 17. i havent even graduated high school yet. if this is what life is like now, im terrified to be an adult.

i mean it when i say that this fandom keeps me going. it makes me feel appreciated, even just a little. so if you made it to the end of this, thanks for caring enough to read this absolute dumpster fire of a post.

love you all <3

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #secret sturniolo

[shadesofnavy]

I'm a bit curious, what's the story with Adams Dankworth? Also, what's going one with Pico's... I guess you would call him biological father, but he doesn't seem like much of a parent.

I believe we'll need to sit down for this.. warnings for heavy topics. Tagging them first for heads up.

[-sigh-]

Also. I should clarify that this entire AU (...yeah my art au i need a fuckin name for this) takes place in an abo-based world. Why haven't I mentioned that before? Well, two reasons: it's not made for smut specifically in mind (or is it..?) and I... just never really thought of bringing it up. Didn't see a need to it until now. Why is it an abo-based world? Idk. I just like certain things about it, and there ain't many FNF aus with it so wth, though it's not just for smut. Abo doesn't always have to be about that. I focus more other stuff, and keep it more or less pg-13. So keep in mind that not all of my art resolves around that specifically.

Anyways. Needed to point that out for that y'all could understand somethings here (and that both Adams and that other deadbeat are Pico's biological parents).

Oki? Oki. Very long post up ahead.

Nothing in Adams' life ever went according to his favor. He grew up in the multi-generational Dankworth family estate somewhere in the bigger cities from the east coast. They were pretty known for their wealth, but the dirt within the name was always kicked beneath the rug.

His family believed only the strongest could achieve any success. Almost all of them were alphas and betas, and they believed omega were weak and incapable of wealth. Being how Adams was the youngest of seven, and the only omega, he was naturally smaller and flimsier than his other siblings. The family didn't believe he could ever be more than a "mere needy wimp". Only a handful of family members actually bothered to take care of him when he was younger, those mostly being an older sister (Otis' mother) and his grandparents from his father's side, though they passed away when he turned 7.

He lacked actual love from his family, proper education, true friendships, and never experienced the joys of childhood. He didn't know what it was like to love, or to be loved. He grew up with a dark perspective in life, often questioning why he ever came to be. When he turned 17, he snuck off and left behind everyone's backs.

Like his son would, Adams struggled to manage through the city, thankfully though he made a few unexpected friends that would help and offer him places to stay every now and then until he could get himself a semi-decent job for his situation. At 19 however, he got caught by an alpha during a heat, and in his frenzied state of mind at the time he gave into temptation, ultimately having Pico on accident. The alpha never stuck around, so Adam's was left on his own.

He took both roles as a mother and father for Pico, but with the lack of experience of a decent family, Adams could never truly love his son, only raise him and teach him how to survive. The only reason he even went through with having Pico was because he couldn't exactly afford another way out, and because of his primal maternal instincts bonding him with the child. Those instincts would be the only thing keeping Adams from leaving Pico, however as the latter grows up, those instincts will ultimately begin to fade as he grows older. Despite this, Pico would live his childhood loving his dad unconditionally, though, the older he got, the more he began to pick up on Adams' bluntness and depression. He'd start to think of himself of a burden because of this.

Adams tried his best to look after Pico, but it was never anywhere near easy. It only toughened when Pico began to develop schizophrenia as a teenager. At the time he wasn't diagnosed, and Adams had no idea. He began to think made he had messed up on something when Pico was still smaller, and he blamed himself. He didn't exactly love Pico per say, but he still felt bad knowing the boy was suffering from something.

Then the shooting happened.

That evening after when Adams came home from getting fired at work for the fourth time that year, having been notified of the event that happened by a friend whose kid was also at the school, he would find his son huddled in the corner of the dreary and cold single room of their apartment, covered in blood and muck, choking through tears and violent tremblings, an unloaded MAC-10 sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, specks of dried blood splattered across it.

Pico would not respond to anything he said or did for the following hours into the night, even when he stopped crying he wouldn't say anything besides the heavy breathing, distraught mumbling and constant jerks his body would do whenever Adams tried to comfort him.

Adams didn't know what to do. All he knew was that he failed Pico. He tried for so long, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't do it any longer. He knew wasn't going to be of help to Pico anymore. He didn't have a job, the rent of the apartment was overdue, and they didn't have any other place to go. He couldn't help his son now.

When Pico woke up in the morning after having the worst sleep of his life, he would find himself wrapped in the single gray blanket he had known his whole life and noticed Adams wasn't anywhere. His suitcase wasn't lying by the door anymore like it always did, and the second pillow over the mattress on the floor where they both used to sleep on was gone.

Pico was alone now.

He didn't like it.

.

.

.

But maybe it was for the best?

#tw #tw neglect #tw abuse #tw ableism #tw abandonment #heavy topics #pico dankworth #adams dankworth #long post #um fuck #pico had a complicated relationship with his dad simply put #asks

[daisychainsandbowties]

how did you figure out that you’re nonbinary and that you specifically use they/them pronouns? /genq

oh okay so figuring out gender was a ‘casper is stupid for 17 entire years’ situation.

i basically came out of the cradle insisting that it was cringe and terrible of my parents to think of me as a girl. i was, emphatically, a Pokémon obsessed little guy since i could form entire sentences. but it was 2002, and frankly i was more concerned with how far i could spit and collecting spiders off the bushes to be worried about it. my parents (bless) were 100% cool with getting my clothes in the boys section & letting me do whatever i wanted (except get ice cream from the ice cream van every day. their one and only instance of homophobia 😔) so i didn’t really suffer, especially, beyond scowling at people in school when they dared to refer to me. 

it was pretty clear to me when i was 11 that having a cursed body was, indeed, going to be a curse. not worth mentioning how terrible and evil 11-14 was for me physically, tho to be fair i also took up swordfighting then so swings and roundabouts.

but yeah, around when i was 9 i knew there was a huge massive problem but then my mom got cancer (multiple myeloma) and… yeah gender crisis took a backseat while we watched her almost die about three times (pulmonory embolism, stem-cell transplant, getting shingles with no immune system bc chemo). my grandmother looked after me while Hospital.

unhelpful to the anti-trans-kids-existing demons bc she was also like intensely indulgent of my refusal to wear anything but my brazil football jersey. she let me eat nothing but artificial cheese slices put on a single slice of white bread and then microwaved because i had the massive trump card of not being allowed to see my mother for almost six months. i think she was grateful that i seemed to find the whole situation too serious to cry over. my best friend was a boy & he was pretty willing to be like ‘ok cool. ur not a girl. can we go on the trampoline?’ 

& then, when things calmed down & i was about 16/17, i had come out as gay (good for me) about two years before & then i realised i was oh fuck A Bit More Complicated than that i spent a while agonising over it. really a long walks on the beach pondering my gay ass type deal.

but then, just when i was kind of starting to vibe with being enby, I got really really sick, which lasted aboooout 5/6 years where it was just an old school platforming game but titled ‘casper tries not to die while trying to get a degree & two masters’). very do not pass go do not collect 200 of the universe to Do That. but hey. 

so it was around Pandemic when i finally got the brainspace to actually think, & i realised that i was definitely trans, probably nonbinary. i experimented for a while with different pronouns. realised my ‘dumbass nickname everyone has to call me’ was my ACTUAL NAME (never underestimate my stupidity and ignorance) & yeah at first i was thinking of going the hormones path (do not ever please god don’t get me started on how hard that is in this stupid bastard country. 5 years waiting period, on average. have to get diagnosed formally by a team of psychiatrists with what is characterised as a ‘mental illness’. have to ‘live’ - as Some Fucker sees it - as your ‘chosen’ gender for like two years AND be out to basically everybody - realistic and safe i say sarcastically i say while looking into the camera like i'm on the office - oh look i got started. anyway. bullshittery)

but eventually i realised huh nope i just wanted top surgery (same fucking deal with the health service tho) & for people to use they/them generally (i am not too fussed w/ pronouns for myself tho. like, a lot of my friends use he/him because frankly i deserve it most of the time with the himbo behaviour. professionally i insist on they/them for consistency. i get congnitive dissonance with she/her as in i get a weird shock & want to laugh & wonder who the fuck they’re talking about for a sec before i realise it’s me. but like, miffed too much i am not).

also gender is a big pendulum for me it’s an elliptic orbit sometimes for a few weeks i’m like a feminine guy and other times i feel like a masculine gay & sometimes i feel like the autism creature (bc i AM an autism creature, always). 

but i have, essentially, felt nonbinary always. trust me i have a pic of blue-eyed blond 5y/o me sitting on my bed in my Pokemon-themed room wearing a Manchester United jersey and holding my PS2 controller in my hands with a profoundly vacant and himboish expression on my face. it did fully take me 17 whole years to have my ‘oh’ moment about it, but a lot of that was profoundly indulgent parents who were you can’t even imagine how determined to not raise me the way they were raised - which meant, apparently, that if i wanted to be a spider-collecting, bug obsessed pokémon-fixated little guy who kept snapping branches off the bamboo and fashioning makeshift swords out of them - well then that was the creature they’d send to school every day. 

i think the tldr here is: casper stupid. gender a concept. 

#anon #'gender' i don't know her #casper lore dump

[dots3a]

Thursday I had a really bad meltdown because my rapist was at my house for legal things to do with the divorce and I literally went out of town so I would not have to see him and when I got back he was in my driveway. I had to go to the pharmacy to pee and wait for him to leave and because I have PTSD, I was very triggered and panicked and began to have an autistic meltdown.

I didn't want to reach out to my husband because he was at the house with the rapist. I reached out to my oldest friend and in my spiral panic I asked her why no one has shown up for me since my life imploded and she said that "that's the way everyone without a therapist feels."

No, it's not. I don't have a family. I have no mom, no dad, no siblings, no cousins, no friends from high school, no friends from college, my abuser completely isolated me. I grew up in horrific abuse. I was born with a congenital deformity which has caused me lifelong pain and no one believed me when I said I was in pain so it didn't get diagnosed until I was 28.

At the time I just. Let it go. Stopped really engaging. My meltdown was the worst I've had in a very long time and I've been having really bad meltdowns a lot during the process of my rapist taking half custody of my kids and trying to sell the house I'm living in, the only home I've ever known, the longest place I've ever lived because I'm 36 and I've moved 30 times, because almost every year my parents moved us and sometimes twice a year and hey when o graduated high school, I was 17 and alone in a house my parents stopped paying the mortgage for when they moved out of state without me.

But yeah. This is how everyone feels who doesn't have a therapist.

I'm so tired of having to minimize what my suffering is like because other people have suffered as well. My friend's childhood had bad parts. She was in the hospital a lot and her mom moved her to a different elementary school because she was struggling to make friends. The thing is, she was surrounded by people in worse circumstances than her but she seems to think we are all the same as her. I loved her through it. As a child with an undiagnosed physical pain causing deformity and undiagnosed autism, I was there for her as she got help whenever she needed it and her mom believed her and made doctors actually do something for her.

I took time to calm down and then Friday, the day after the meltdown I reached out to her to let her know I am going to take a step back to process feelings about our relationship that came up yesterday. She says i can "take the time i need" but she "is confused and doesn't understand." And that's... Why.

I don't understand why everyone I've been friends with and most people I've dated don't. Actually. Like. Me. But they insist that they do. And then I tie my stomach into knots trying to figure out why I don't feel loved. It's because I wasn't loved.

I don't have to keep that in my life. I'm allowed to not like the way I've been treated. I'm allowed to say it was and is wrong. I'm allowed to give myself permission for space. I always deserved better.

[thebookreader12345]

Non-Stop Bickering

Pairing: Crockett Marcel x reader

Summary: Being a neurosurgeon, Y/N never thought she'd be spending most of her days in the ED, especially with Dr. Marcel, who she claims she can't stand being around

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: slight swearing, mentions of death

Word Count: 1,468 Words

"Y/N," Dr. Abrams shouted to get my attention. "I just got a page about a neuro consult in the ED."

"Okay. And...?" I trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"So go down there and deal with it," Sam spoke.

"But the page went to you," I counter.

"And as the Head of Neurosurgery, I'm making you do it," Sam retorted.

"I hate you sometimes, Sam," I tell my boss.

Dr. Abrams cracked a small smile. "No you don't. Have fun!" It didn't take me long to make my way down to the ED, and when I arrived, I found Maggie, who was standing at the nurses' station.

"Hey, Maggie," I greet the charge nurse. "I was told someone needed a neuro consult."

"Yes. Dr. Marcel," Maggie called out and waved the doctor over. "Your neuro consult is here."

"I asked for Dr. Abrams," Crockett claimed.

"Yeah, well, he sent me instead," I say. "Lets just get this over with. I don't want to see your face any longer than I have to."

"For your information, many people find me handsome," Crockett shared.

"Uh-huh," I hum as we made our way to the patient's room. "I'm sure they do."

"It's the truth," Crockett insisted.

"Right. What did you need me for?" I ask.

"My patient, Jaimie, she's 17 years old and was just in a huge car crash with her parents. I took her to surgery a few hours ago and she was fine after that, but all of a sudden she crashed and has been on the vent since," Crockett informed me.

"Got it," I mutter as the two of us entered the room. I pulled my pen from my jacket pocket and ran it up the bottom of Jaimie's feet. When that didn't stimulate a reaction, I swapped the pen out for a flashlight and shined the light in the teenagers eyes while also glancing towards the heart monitor standing off to the side.

"Well?" Crockett posed.

"Sorry," I apologize and shove the flashlight back into my pocket. "She's never gonna wake up."

"What? But she was fine earlier," Crockett put in.

"Yeah, but she's shown no reaction to pain or light. I'd talk to the parents as soon as possible to see if they'd like her organs to be donated," I advise.

"I told them that she'd be okay," Crockett murmured. "I promised them that they'd get their little girl back."

"You did what?" I hiss. "Crockett, you of all people should know that you can never promise that someone will make it out okay. Not when you work in the ED."

"She was fine when she came in," Crockett argued. "I just assumed...no. Jaimie can't be gone."

I scoffed. "So you don't believe me? You're the one who called me down here!"

"No, I called Dr. Abrams down here," Crockett corrected me.

"Whatever! Dr. Abrams would've come to the same conclusion I just did," I declare.

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna page him down here," Crockett stated.

"Go ahead. But you're wasting your time," I warn him. "She's gone." And with that, I left Jaimie's room to go back up to the neuro wing. I stepped inside the elevator and pushed the button of the floor I wanted to go to before leaning against the back wall and crossing my arms over my chest. Just as the doors started closing, a voice from inside the ED became clear.

"Hold the doors!"

I leapt forwards and slotted my arm between the tiny open space, causing the elevator doors to spring back open. And there, standing before me, was Will Halstead. His cheeks were tinted a light shade of pink, and he seemed to be almost out of breath.

"Thank you," Will breathed out as he entered the elevator. He then pressed another button on the front wall of the elevator which lit up as the doors slid shut, leaving the two of us alone in the small box. As the elevator ascended, it was dead silent accept for the slight dinging that emitted from the speaker signaling that we had passed another floor. "So, I uh, I heard the argument you and Marcel had down in the ED."

"I'd rather not talk about it," I assert as politely as possible. "He asked for my professional opinion, I gave it, and then he questioned my ability to diagnose a patient. That's what happened. End of story."

"I don't think he meant it like that. I think he was just upset about his patient, and he let his emotions get out of control," Will offered. "And you know how he gets when his patients are kids."

For a split second, I felt bad for yelling at Crockett. I remembered that he once had a child who died, a little girl named Harper. And while she had never reached the age that Jaimie had, his fatherly instincts had kicked in. But that all went away at a moments notice when I also remembered that he had insulted my work.

"Yeah? Well you don't see me walking around talking shit about his work," I exclaim as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. "Just drop the issue, Will. I can't stand to be around Crockett, and I don't think I'll ever be able to."

"But Y/n," Will started, only for me to cut him off.

"It's okay. Things will sort themselves out soon enough," I assure him as I stepped out of the elevator. "See ya later, Halstead." I found Sam standing at the nurses' station in the neuro wing typing away on a tablet, and when he heard me approaching, he looked up.

"How was the consult?" Sam quizzed.

"Next time you get a page from the ED that Dr. Marcel needs a consult or whatever the hell else, you're taking it," I grumble and walk right past him.

...........................................

I thought that after telling Sam I didn't want to do neuro consults in the ED for Dr. Marcel anymore, he'd listen and not assign me to do them. So when I got called down to the ED my next shift, I wasn't expecting to be directed Crockett.

"Not again," I mumble quietly as I approached Crockett, who was standing at the nurses' station putting away a tablet. He looked up as I approached, and a small smile graced his lips.

"You just couldn't stay away, could ya?" Crockett questioned.

"Just let me do my consult and I'll be on my way," I mutter. The consult only took a few minutes, and I was glad that I'd be able to leave ED, but just as I started walking away from the nurses' station, Crockett grabbed ahold of my arm.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Crockett seethed. "You didn't talk or even look at me the entire consult."

"Yeah, well, sorry if I don't want to be near the man who insulted my medical abilities," I retort.

"What? Come on. You're still mad about that?" Crockett asked.

"Of course I'm still mad about that! You can't just offend someone's career and expect everything to be okay after that! I mean, that really hu-"

I was cut off as Crockett surged forward, wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me towards him before placing his lips over mine. For a second, I was frozen where I stood. I didn't know what to do. But then my body reacted by kissing Crockett back. Crockett and I had always had a strange relationship. One minute we were fighting, the next we were flirting. And now here we were making out in front of the whole ED staff. After a few seconds, Crockett pulled away from me.

"I didn't think you'd kiss back," Crockett spoke.

"I didn't think you'd ever work up the courage to kiss me," I counter. "After all of our non-stop bickering, I thought you'd pick up that I liked you sooner."

"Believe me, I did," Crockett admitted. "I was just hesitant about approaching you because I didn't want our work to get in the way of what we could have."

"Well, I think I'll actually enjoy coming down to the ED now," I say.

Crockett smiled. "I'll look forward to seeing you. It'll probably be more often than we think since Dr. Abrams never comes down when I page."

I laughed softly. "Yeah, he doesn't like people interrupting his work, so he'll only come down if he's got absolutely nothing to do."

"Right, well, I'm off the clock in an hour, and I'm assuming you are too. What would you say if I asked you to grab a beer with me after work?" Crockett implored.

"I'd say I would love too," I reply.

"Great. Then I will see you after shift," Crockett claimed.

___________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @king-crockett

#one chicago #one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #one chicago imagines #chicago med #chicago med x reader #chicago med imagines #chicago med imagine #crockett marcel #crockett marcel x reader #crockett marcel imagine #crockett marcel imagines #x reader #imagine #imagines

[xmint-conditionx]

tongue tied | myg

pairing: yoongi x reader, f2l

w/c: 3.5k

summary: you've been best friends with yoongi for almost a decade, and you're hopelessly in love with him. he's the most important person in your life, and you don't want to mess that up, so you can never be anything more... right?

written as a response to a request from the old blog -- the requestor was @yoongi--enthusiast; thanks again for your request, i loved doing it!!! "I had an idea... something based off of the song “tongue tied” with yoongi. I feel like it would be super soft with soft smut... I just think it would be nice to read so can you please wright it 🥺👉👈"

tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, outdoor sex, overall a little angsty but super cute too

a/n: i did not know that there was a song called tongue tied by marshmello before i wrote this so... i hope the person who requested this didn’t mean that song because I wrote this drabble over the grouplove song lmaooo but anyway, here goes! thanks luv, enjoy! also reposted from the old blog!!

Yoongi’s laugh is so beautiful. It’s rare, so when you see it, you soak up everything you can about it. The way his eyes crinkle up into crescent moons, the way his lips curl back putting his gummy smile on bright display. You can swear you see his eyes sparkle.

You are in love with him. You are in love with your best friend.

He makes loving him such an easy thing to do; bringing you into his inner world, showing you the sweet and warm center he conceals from everyone else. The way he looks at you, the way he says your name, the way he pouts when he wants a back scratch, all of those little things that make him who he is only deepen your infatuation with him.

You’re with him again this Friday night, making the drive to Bom’s house. It’s been a long week for the both of you; he’s been wrapped up in producing a track and you’ve been nose deep in college textbooks. His track is completed, and your exams are over. It’s safe to say that you both could use a good break.

It’s the end of the spring semester and the weather is going to be gorgeous tonight. The racing summer breeze coming through the open car windows is exhilarating. The sun is setting, and the warm evening light on Yoongi’s dewy skin makes him appear absolutely radiant as he navigates the highway.

You’re just listening to fun little summer jams as you speed off toward the city’s suburbs. Ones with funky little basslines that are easy to groove and sing along to. Ones that make you shout and laugh into the rushing wind. Ones that make you drink in the moment you’re having with Yoongi; ones that make you soak up all of his joy.

And when he steals a sly look your way, one hand still on the top of the steering wheel, you can swear your heart stops.

You’ve loved him as long as you can remember really knowing him. Since you were both 12, bonding over games of tag and basketball and the spilling of secrets to each other. You’d sit beneath the big tree in his backyard and share the snacks you’d bought at the corner store. He’d always let you have the last chocolate.

The only secret you’ve ever kept from Yoongi is the matter of your infatuation, and you are pretty resolute in keeping it that way.

He is the single most important person in your life. He had been there with you through it all; when your parents split up at 13, when your dad got you your first car at 15, when your long time boyfriend cheated on you at 16, when your dream college denied you at 17, when you got a full ride scholarship to a smaller university outside of the city right after that, when you were drugged at a house party at 20, when you were diagnosed with depression at 21, and when you were accepted into your masters program at 22.

You needed him, and because of that, you could never tell him.

You pull into the gates that surround Bom’s neighborhood. Her parents are pretty wealthy, so they live on a golf course. As you pull up into the driveway, you see some other students milling about, catching Frisbee. There’s Eunha, Ireum, Ji-Ah, and Miyeun that you recognize from some of your classes, but there are a few more that you’ve never met.

After a few rounds of drinks and a few lost games of flip cup, you all head outside to the back patio with all of your schoolwork from the year. Bom turns on the bluetooth speaker and sets it on the railing. You take in the night air and gaze up at the sky, wishing there was a shooting star to wish upon.

“Alright, everyone,” Bom begins, “essays and lab reports first, then tests, then miscellaneous homework.” Yoongi helps you dig through your stack to fish out the cursed papers. You all toss the stapled packages into the fire pit, one by one, each hitting with a soft thud. Once everyone has thrown their woes into the pit, Bom tops it with actual firewood and unceremoniously sets the whole lot of it on fire. You gaze into the center of the flame, watching your entire year catch fire. All the hours you spent doing that research project, all the disappointment when your group members wouldn’t follow through. Gone, like it never existed.

Yoongi’s holding your hand in his, and he’s busy drawing little circles with his thumb on your palm. Your head rests soundly on his shoulder, and you sigh into him, comfortable in where you are. The whole group piles in more papers, as you lament about the shitty professors and the shitty group projects and the shitty caf’ food and the shitty grades. Yoongi turns into you and nuzzles gently on your forehead. You feel his soft lips graze your temple, breath warm on your skin, tingles rising through your body, and you’re right where you want to be. Under the moon’s gaze with the person you love.

Before long, the breeze sends a chill through you that even the fire won’t remedy. Yoongi feels your shiver and unceremoniously removes his hoodie and puts it on over you, pulling up the hood and kissing your forehead. You always love when you wear his jackets; they surround you in his warmth, his smell. A smile plays across your lips until you notice Yoongi’s goosebumps.

“Hey,” you pout, “I don't wanna wear this if you’re gonna be cold.”

“I don’t wanna wear it if you’re gonna be cold,” he snaps back, smiling.

“Here,” you say, standing up from your deck chair. You take the step to get you to Yoongi’s chair, and sit in his lap. “This way we can both be warm, yeah?”

It takes him a second, but he wraps his arms firmly around you again, mumbling a “yeah, that’s fine” when you glance at him over your shoulder.

Your attention is called back to the group with Bom asks if you’re going to the Summer Romance Festival by the river next weekend. She’s been pushing you to get yourself out there more. The last time you were in a real relationship was high school, after all.

“I’d love to go; I hear they have the most beautiful fireworks display,” you start, “but I don’t think I will this year.”

“Well,” Bom says, “Why not?!”

“Because I don’t have a date, Bom!” you say, covering your face in the sweater paws you’ve made from Yoongi’s hoodie. “I don’t think I could find one in enough time.”

“Ya, just get Yoongi to go with you! You already do everything together anyway,” Eunha quips.

You notice that the steady rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest has stopped.

“Hey, you know we’re just friends, right Yoongi?” you look to him for backup.

The man nods, looking down and to the left.

“Okay,” Ireum speaks up, “In that case, do you want to go with me?”

“Wait, what?” you say.

“Do you want to go to the Summer Romance Festival with me? As a date?”

Yoongi tenses beneath you.

“Oh, I don’t know…” you breathe, “Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. We can even get dinner before we go. Not too much, though. I’ll want to get us a treat from one of the dessert stalls.” Ireum says with a soft smile.

“Yeah,” you say, smiling back at him, “Okay. We’ll go together.”

Yoongi stirs beneath you. “Hey, can you get off of me?”

“What, why?” you pout.

“I said get off.”

“Yoongi, wh--”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish before he abruptly stands up, forcing you to catch yourself. When you look back at him, he’s walking toward the French doors that lead back into the house.

“Ya! What was that about?”

He keeps walking. You storm after him and slam the door, trapping you both inside.

“Yoongi, I’m talking to you! What’s your fucking problem?”

He whirs around.

“Oh, I have a problem?”

“Well, it sure seems like it.” you spit back, hands on your hips.

“Why don’t you go talk about it with your date, huh?” he says, gesturing out the window to Ireum. “Don’t you have some details to work out? He gonna pick you up? You gonna let him hold your hand? On your nice little extra special romantic date? I guess I’ll just fuck right off and leave you two alone, yeah? That’s what you want, cause we’re just friends and all.”

“Yoongi, we… are friends! You’re my best friend!”

“Did you ever for a second think that I could want more?”

“What?!”

“I fucking love you, Y/N! Isn’t it obvious?! I’ve loved you since the 7th grade. You remember when we played spin the bottle at Ha-joon’s house? Do you remember when you kissed me?”

“Yoongi…”

“No, let me finish. Do you remember the frat party we crashed junior year? Remember when we got up onto the roof and made out until we fell asleep? And then you weren't there when I woke up so I walked back to my dorm and then we just pretended it never happened? What the fuck was that, Y/N?!”

You reach for his arm, but he backs up, flinching away from you.

“I am so in love with you it hurts!”

“Yoongi.”

“But I guess if that guy can make you happy, then whatever,” he sighs.

“Yoongi.”

“Go on your little date and have fun and I’ll just go write some more goddamn songs about you--”

“Yoongi!”

He stills, pain flashing through his eyes.

“Yoongi,” you say quietly, easing toward him, “I had no idea. I left the roof to go inside and get you some water. When I came back, you were gone. You had been drinking a lot that night… and I felt really bad because… I thought I had taken advantage of you… Ever since I first kissed you at Ha-joon’s house, I wanted to do it again. And again. And, you looked so good that night and up on the roof when you were laughing about the quarterback I just… I couldn't hold myself back anymore. I thought surely you didn’t want to actually be kissing me.”

“Why the fuck would I have kissed you back, then?”

“You were drunk, and I--” you’re cut off when he grabs your wrist.“I have wanted to kiss you every time I’ve seen you since you first kissed me,” he says, glancing down at your lips. ”I want to kiss you right now.”

You take no time in closing the distance between the two of you, your lips crashing desperately. You’ve tasted his kiss before, but this time feels different. His hands are winding through your hair, pulling you deeper into his kiss. You moan against his mouth, and he responds with his tongue teasing your lips, asking for entry. You grant it, and he explores. One of his hands holds your jaw, the other still intertwined with your hair. His tongue runs along your bottom lip before he sucks it in, drawing out a small whimper from you. Taking his hand from your jaw, he runs it down your neck and décolleté and then down over your stomach and latches it on your hip, sinking his fingers into your skin. He gives your hair a small tug, just enough to break the kiss and expose your neck. He breaks off and trails kisses up your jawline and then onto your neck, speaking in between kisses.

“You have… no idea how… much I’ve… wanted to tell… you everything,” he breathes onto your neck, and you feel a heat pooling in your panties.

“Please, Yoongi…” you say as you begin to run one hand under his shirt. He stops kissing and looks up at you with the softest expression.

“What is it?” he asks as he grabs both of your hands in his, bringing one of them up to his mouth to sprinkle kisses along your fingers.

“You…” you begin and sigh, “you have no idea how much I want you.”

He stills.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to, I’m sorry, I just…” he trails off, eyes getting lost in the way his jacket is draped on your figure.

Him eyeing you up doesn’t make it any better.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” you say, eyes pleading up at him. “I’m tired of waiting.”

After a beat, he sighs.

“Neither of us are waiting another minute,” he says, landing a quick peck on your lips and going across the room to the couch, grabbing the throw blanket that rests on the arm.

“Come on, I have an idea,” he says, grabbing your arm and leading you out of the front door, across the street, through someone’s back yard until you reach the top of a hill on the side of a fairway. You watch as he scans the area, holding the blanket tight. His gaze lingers on two hills near the green of whatever hole this is, where there are a few more trees and hills to block you from the sightline of those second story windows. He looks at you, eyes asking the question. You smile and nod, and that’s all he needs.

He tugs your hand and you both go running down the fairway, laughing along the way. Once you reach your spot, he quickly puts down the blanket and lays on it. You’re still standing at his feet, hands fiddling with the ends of the jacket sleeves.

He smiles up at you and holds his arms up in your direction and says, “come here, beautiful,” while doing little grabby hands.

You slowly walk up to where he’s laying and sit on top of his hips, feeling how hard he already is. His hand rests on your hip underneath the fabric of his jacket, the other holding the side of your face.

“Let me see you,” he says with a tinge of whine in his voice, and that gives you an idea.

You reach under the still zipped jacket and fiddle around. Yoongi looks up at you befuddled, the corners of his lips turning down slightly as he tries to figure out what’s going on. When your hands emerge, one is holding your strapless bra and the other is holding the halter top you had been wearing. You can’t believe you managed to unzip the back by yourself.

You throw the garments to the side, and watch as understanding hits his face. His eyes glaze over and he licks his lips, clearly shaken up by your little trick.

He carefully dips his fingers below the waistband of your shorts and eases them down. You put your weight on him and give him a few kisses as he continues to move them down your legs. Once they too have been tossed to the side, you sit back up, lips red and swollen from the kiss.

He gently reaches up to the zipper of the jacket and begins to slowly pull it down, letting the cool night air in. You feel your nipples harden at the exposure to both the night air and Yoongi’s hungry eyes. He swallows and licks his lips as he runs his eyes over every new inch of you that is revealed. Memorizing your form, your perked nipples, the way your chest rises with each anxious breath.

He reaches back up to the collar and eases one shoulder of fabric off. You move to take the rest off despite the cold, but he stills your hand with his.

“Keep it on, please. I love seeing you wear my clothes,” Yoongi says, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing them against his knuckles as you slowly grind your still covered core on his length. He groans in frustration, his pants getting tighter. You let go of his hand and run your fingers up beneath his white cotton v-neck, his ab muscles flinching under your touch. You help him remove his shirt, taking in the way his pale skin shines under the moonlight.

Seeing you look at him makes his cock twitch in his pants, and you think it’s time to provide him some relief.

You scoot back and start to undo his belt, getting low and staring up at him through your lashes. His breath hitches when you make eye contact with him, and then it starts to pick up as you undo the button and zipper. You shimmy down the denim, but leave his black boxer-briefs where they are.

You come back up to the waistband after releasing his jeans, and you take the elastic in between your teeth. You tug them down with your teeth while your hands pull them on the sides. His erection springs free, and he sucks in a fast breath when his cock meets the cool air. You take the opportunity to let your warm breath ghost over his throbbing cock, coaxing a deep groan from Yoongi. He puts his hand to your cheek, and you look up to meet his gaze.

“I don’t think I can last if you put me in your mouth, baby girl. We can do head next time,” Yoongi says, and your heart soars at the pet name. You ease back up so that you’re straddling him once more, and reflexively start to grind on him again.

“Please let me take care of you. Look how wet you are,” he says, running his fingers over your clothed slit, dipping one finger in to collect a bit of slick. He tastes his finger and says. “Yeah, we’re definitely going to need to do head next time.”

You blush at the thought of him buried between your thighs, vulgarly slurping up everything you have to give him. You clench just thinking about it, and Yoongi notices. He pulls your panties to the side, takes the head of his cock and presses it to your clit, teasing your entrance. His precum mixes with your wetness, and you can’t resist him any more. You’ve resisted him for years, and you’re done.

You slowly ease yourself down on his cock, only making it halfway down before you have to wait for you to adjust. You both look at each other; Yoongi’s jaw is set and his eyebrows are furrowed together. Your mouth drops open as you raise and lower yourself again, feeling the delicious stretch that accompanies it. You bottom out and begin setting a slow and gentle pace.

Your body is rolling steadily, moonlight creating beautiful shadows on your body as you take him in over and over. As many times as you’ve dreamed of this, you still didn’t fathom it being this good or it feeling this right.

Yoongi is everything you had imagined he would be and then some. The way he is looking up at you, the way his soft little moans escape every time you bottom out, the way his eyebrows furrow together at the sight of your dripping heat enveloping him. Perfection.

He takes his hands and trails them up the curve of your waist, stopping just below your breasts. He runs his thumbs over your nipples, making you shudder and arch your back, pushing your chest into his hands. He palms them, kneading little circles around your areolas.

You lean forward, putting your weight on him again, and he meets you eagerly with another kiss. He wraps his arms around your back, keeping himself under the jacket, and you pick up the rhythm. Yoongi scratches his nails all the way down your back. Once he gets to your ass, he cups it, squeezing gently. You place your forehead against his, and your eyes meet.

“Y/N,” he whispers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “you look so beautiful on top of me like this. Please let me see this sight for the rest of my life.” You whimper at the praise, and pick up the pace.

“Please,” he continues, small grunts mixing in with his words, “Don’t wake up tomorrow and pretend like this never happened. Please... don’t break my heart,” he pleads.

“Not a chance, Yoon. I can never let you go. You’re everything to me. You’ve always been.”

“Baby, I am so close. Can I--”

“Come with me, Yoongi. Let’s do it together,” you say. Yoongi’s hands are on your hips and he’s thrusting up into you with an unrelenting pace. At this angle, you can feel his head graze against your cervix with each thrust, sending white spots in your vision.

You both reach your end at the same time, breaths mingling as you come down from your highs. You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat gradually slow. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head and sighs into your hair.

“So…” he begins, “do you wanna go to the festival with me?” Yoongi asks.

“Are you gonna pick me up? Let me hold your hand? Have a nice little special romantic date?” you fire back, trying your best to sound like him. You sit up on your arm, letting your hair hang over to one side, and watch the light dance in his eyes as he laughs.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “I might even get us a little snack from one of the desert vendors.”

#bts smut #bts smut reactions #bts smut one shot #bts fanfiction #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi smut one shot #soft!yoongi #yoongi--enthusiast #send me requests

[indecisive-behaviors]

Originally I was just going to add this as a reblog to my previous post about the parking lot scene in KK2 but it’s almost 2k words so now it’s getting it’s own post. Be forewarned- this is fucking long.

TW for discussion of PTSD, child abuse, neglect, injury, and death, in relation to topics surrounding the show, under the cut-

Obviously, Cobra Kai is a show based around the premise of “what happened to that Lawrence kid after he got kicked in the face?”, which is honestly a pretty cool idea for a show. Johnny’s story is never explained past sitting on the sidewalk with his head in his hands at the tournament, and there are no real context clue’s to figure out what may or may not have happened.

In the show we get to learn early on that Johnny’s life spiraled after the tournament, going from bad to worse to “holy shit how are you still alive”-dropping out/never going to college, working jobs he seems to hate, becoming an alcoholic, presumably many dead end relationships, and not being there for his kid. And yeah, obviously, this would be a hard pill to swallow for anyone watching the show if Johnny had just lost the tournament. If we never got the scene in KK2, he would have just been some kid who lost a tournament- we see at the end of the first movie that(through tears holy shit Billy) that Johnny is the one who gives the trophy to Daniel with his famous line, “You’re alright, LaRusso.” There’s a level of grudging respect in that moment that isn’t lost on anyone who sees that movie- that Johnny, who throughout the movie only sees Daniel as some whimpy kid, gets proven wrong and respects that. If we didn’t have that scene, there’s reason to believe Johnny would have apologized, tried to make amends, Something, even if it was just being less of a dick at school.

But then, we get the parking lot. We get a far off shot, intended to distance you from the scene, framed over Daniel’s shoulder. This makes sense, Daniel is the main character, the protagonist, the underdog hero- why wouldn’t it be framed in his perspective? But the scene is about Johnny. We get the shouting match, the back and forth- “No, you’re the loser man.”- and again it’s fairly obvious how Johnny sees this situation. This is a man who we assume(and is later confirmed) to be a surrogate father figure, who set his friend up for failure, and then basically forced him to do the same by targeting an injured opponent, and forcing him to fight without honor. This same man presumably follows a teenager out to the parking lot, to harass him, to tell him he’s off the team, to tell him he’s a loser, that he’s nothing.

But at that point, Johnny knows the truth, even if subconsciously. At the end of the day Johnny knows that Daniel LaRusso was a worthy opponent, and that regardless of the cheating and manipulation, Daniel could have won anyway, and did win, despite of it.

And then Kreese grabs him, too fast to react to, Johnny too surprised even knowing that Kreese is the bad guy here, not believing that he would ever willingly hurt him- and Johnny isn’t strong enough to fight him off, none of the boys are, so Johnny is forced to suffocate for almost a full 30 seconds(which I double checked for the record- also as a reference, 30 seconds is about the average time it takes for a person voluntarily holding their breath to pass out- this does not account for the oxygen lost during a struggle, and the lack of preparation from both surprise and panic. The only silver lining here is the fact that Kreese was most likely compressing his windpipe, not his jugular, which would have made him pass out in about 5-10 seconds, and would have caused permanent brain damage or death in about 15).

Now, PTSD is a complex thing. I’m not a psychiatrist, and what small amount of information we have is all we have to work off of, but I feel fairly comfortable in saying Johnny mostly likely developed it after the incident. This not an uncommon take in the fandom as far as I’m aware either. But, if we assume this, we also have to assume that after the fact nothing would have been done about this. Not just in the sense that we still don’t really know everything that happened right after the tournament, but that in the early 80s, PTSD wasn’t really a thing yet.

Sure it was absolutely a condition that existed, but Post Traumatic Stress Disorder wasn’t even added to the DSM-III until 1980- and for a long time afterward, was only seen as a condition that affected primarily war vets. Even after an event as traumatic as having a man you considered a father trying to kill you, in public, without remorse, would not have been seen as something to warrant the diagnoses, let alone treatment.

Johnny Lawrence was 17 when Kreese tried to kill him, and this boy would have been offered no resources beyond filing charges with the police. And as we see in KK3, either this didn’t happen either, or someone(presumably Silver) got the charges dropped. So on top of almost being murdered, Johnny had to live with the fact that the man who did that to him was still out there, and to top it off, still ran a dojo at least for a few months after the event. The only relief he could have gotten is after Kreese faked his death.

And sure, Mr Miyagi may have gotten Kreese to let go eventually, but as several people have pointed out in comments and tags, left him and the other boys alone with Kreese still standing there in the parking lot and just... drove off. Kreese has already been established to be a psycho with no problem hurting children, a little bit of glass might not have prevented him from trying again.

So why did I talk about all of that? Because it all contributes to why Daniel LaRusso works as a credible antagonist in season 1 of Cobra Kai.

Think about this- Johnny blames losing everything on Daniel in season 1, but we specifically get a shot in KK1 and later KK2(”You’re alright, LaRusso” and “I did my best” come to mind) where he seems to be at least mostly accepting of the fact that he lost(with what was actually an illegal kick but that’s a rant for another time). So why does he blame him for everything 30 years later?

Because 30 years later, Johnny is forced to go outside, go to work, and pretend like he doesn’t see what feels like every street corner(including right outside his apartment mind you), a literal billboard sized reminder of what happened to him.

The rest of this is mostly speculation but it makes sense in my head so bear with me.

When we get introduced to Robby, it’s made pretty clear that Johnny has not been in his life for a bit. In season 2 we get Johnny’s heart to heart with Miguel, where he divulges that he missed the birth, because he spiraled after his mom’s death. This however doesn’t suggest that he stayed gone, especially knowing that it wasn’t long enough for Robby to not consider seeking out his dad. Because tacked up to the fridge, is a picture of Robby in his soccer uniform as a kid. It’s an early detail you can see in previous episodes, and says a lot about how Robby grew up. To be fair, this could have been given to him by Shannon, and not taken himself, but it’s the sport Robby’s playing that makes me question this. KK1 dedicates an entire scene to Johnny being on the soccer team in high school. Soccer, while maybe not as important to him as karate, is still part of his character. Robby does not know karate in season 1, Johnny obviously didn’t share it with him, but that doesn’t mean Johnny didn’t share anything with him.

So Johnny’s back in his kids life, maybe doing better for himself, maybe cutting back on the drinking. LaRusso Auto is already established to exist at this point but it’s in Encino, a place Johnny has no reason to go to, and probably doesn’t want to. He’s trying again and things are okay. But Robby knows enough about Daniel to know that going to him will piss off his dad. So Johnny had to have talked about him at some point. The billboards here are what’s important- they’re in the first episode, the first scene montage, Johnny draws a dick on one of them as some petty revenge.

The first billboard goes up in the late 2000s to mid 2010s. Johnny sees it, maybe he has Robby with him at the time, maybe he goes home and says something there, but he says something in a way that sticks with even a child as being important. More billboards go up. Dealerships starting popping up more and more. Daniel’s face, and by extension, the memories, the flashbacks, become inescapable. Johnny, for a third time, spirals again. Before he even knows what’s happening, he’s lost his relationship with his son. And it’s all Daniel’s fault. Of course Daniel doesn’t do it deliberately, but the constant reminders are enough to send him back into a tailspin and Johnny blames him for it.

Because it’s Daniel who is a constant reminder of his failures- it’s Daniel who caused him to lose the tournament and almost get killed, Daniel who put up the billboards that trigger his flashbacks, it’s always Daniel Daniel Daniel.

And then Johnny gets it in his head that he wants to be better. He opens a dojo, teaches Miguel and the other kids, wants to try again- and he almost succeeds.

Johnny up to this point has not deliberately antagonized Daniel in any way. Sure he named the dojo Cobra Kai, but Cobra Kai is all he knows. Besides Johnny doesn’t blame karate for his failures, his best memories are Cobra Kai and he’s trying to be better than Kreese. So what’s the harm in this really? His building is in Reseda, there’s no reason for Daniel to ever be there, he doesn’t do it out of spite, it’s because he lives there and rent is cheap. He doesn’t know about KK3, doesn’t know about Daniel’s own trauma. This isn’t an attack. Johnny sincerely just doesn’t know.

Enter Daniel, stage left. Daniel makes no attempt to talk to him- he simply makes demands and accusations, before he starts making active attempts to put him out of business.

Sure, we as the audience know Daniel has good reasons to not want Cobra Kai back. But Johnny doesn’t. All Johnny knows is that the kid he picked on in high school- who won, who got everything Johnny wanted, who grew up to be successful, has a wonderful wife, two kids who love him, a thriving business- is doing everything he can to make his life hell 30 years after the fact.

And this could only have happened because in 1986 John G. Avildsen decided to add in a scene meant for the original movie into the sequel, for absolutely no fucking reason.

#meta analysis #ranting about cobra kai cuz I can #johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #cobra kai #karate kid #I will never get over the fact that that was an actual scene that they filmed #and then got no resolution #FOR 30 YEARS #I apologize to everyone for this post #obviously I have a lot of feelings about this

[dp-marvel94]

For the 'fanfic writers asks':

(I tried to ask not so many, but I've got curious :) )

7, 17, 20, 26, 28, 32

In reference to this. Thanks for asking, my friend! I've got a lot to say so see below the cut.

7. What story/headcanons do you feel the proudest of?

I see you picked a hard first question. XD I'm proud of all my stories. Double Discovery is special to me because it's my first multi chapter story. I'm proud of my Invisobang story from last year because I thought the idea was really unique. A lot of emotion went into that story too; it tackled difficult topics for me. I'm really proud of Hope too, because of the thoughtful and careful foreshadowing I put into the story. And of course, Face to Face is really special to me, both for the length and the content. I haven't talked about this a lot but I've drawn a lot from my experiences as a autistic person and dealing with ablest attitudes from my family and internalized beliefs. I wasn't diagnosed until I was almost an adult and it's taken me years to be able to say that I'm autistic and not feel ashamed or like I said something taboo. Writing Face to Face was a big step in getting there.

17. What fanfic tropes do you gravitate to writing for?

I have said that my favorite genre are stories where Danny talks to himself. XD So I'm gonna write all the split Danny/ separate Fenton & Phantom and Clone content I want.

20. What feedback makes you the happiest to hear?

I love hearing if a particular line really struck someone. Also, comments about the characters' arcs. It's really nice to know that the reader can clearly get where I'm trying to take the character.

26. Are titles for your stories easy to come up with?

Generally no. I love events like DannyMay and Ectober because they make coming up with titles so easy. XD But I also use a lot of song titles and lyrics. It's excited find a song who's lyrics or message really fit with the story I'm trying to write. As long as that happens before I name the story at least. XD

28. Is there a part of Face to Face you’re surprised no one has picked up on yet?

So I picked Face to Face for this because it's my darling. It's not a content thing. But I've posted about the song (Face to Face by Wolves at the Gate) that the titles from multiple times and to my knowledge no one's listened to it! I'm really excited about how well it fits, especially now that I'm getting close to the end of the story.

Here's the chorus:

"Listen closely, every seed must die before

Die before it can grow

Sinking slowly, to be planted in the dust

Long before it can grow"

I touched on it in the latest chapter but Danny's really grown a lot over the events of the story. That theme of death and rebirth goes hand in hand with the story I'm trying to tell.

"Standing at the great divide

I fell into the ground and died

The taste of death was bittersweet

I fell into the ground and died

But death made me alive

Death made me alive"

And the bridge! I mean, do I even need to explain?!

https://youtu.be/jN-nfjQA1sg

Seriously, please, I'm begging anyone reading this to go listen to the song. I even posted the link to the acoustic version. 😅

32. What story do you think showcases your signature style the most?

My signature style... well, that's probably a story with lots of crying and hugging. The central conflict is an emotional one and it ends one a happy or hopeful note. And oh yeah, there's probably more that one version of Danny in it. 😅 I've already talked about a few so I'll pick out something that isn't one of my long, multi chapter stories.

From Phic Phight 2021, The First Night.

A sixteen years old Danny Fenton helps his fourteen year old counterpart through his first night as a ghost.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31122332

#Danny Phantom #my post

[tfw-adhd]

I am not diagnosed but I'm trying to see if I have adhd, doing as much research as I can. Problem is I'm 17, a girl and woc and from what I've been seeing, it seems almost impossible to get a diagnosis. I was hoping you could help me. God, this is way too long I'm really sorry to bother you. You don't have to answer if yoh don't want to

Some of the symptoms I feel like I may be experiencing are:

1. Hyperfixations: the most recent one I can think of is star wars, specifically one ship. I got into it in April 2020 and boy, I am obsessed for the lack of a better word. I literally of it when I wake up, when I go to bed and all the moments in between.

I (this is embarrassing omg) literally didn't attend a single class this year because I can't stop thinking of that ship enough to focus. I have an exam today, and I still can't stop reading fics or scrolling through ship twitter instead of preparing. Maybe I'm just lazy? Idk man I don't even have friends so idek what is normal and what is not anymore.

And I seemed to have hyperfixations throughout my life. It was Percy Jackson till 9th grade. Then AOT till 11th. And before that, dinosaurs and science of all things. I would literally buy notebooks to write science and dinosaur facts in. I only have one thing i am attached to for months at a time. To the point where if people ask me what fandoms I like I can't even give more than two or three because that's all I consume. I can't watch another show or read another book without feeling like I'm somehow cheating on star wars lmaoo

2. Focus is a big thing. I don't have it. I remember with physical exams I would have to stop in between because the focus would slip away, and I'd just spend a good ten minutes staring at my paper not taking anything in because my thoughts are too loud. With Internet exams, I'm more accustomed to having tumblr, twitter and reddit open for when I inevitably lose focus. Studying is a struggle. Fuck that, reading is a struggle. Often not able to get past one or two sentences without immediately feeling irritated (?) Not the right word but I can't think of anything to describe the fuzziness in my brain.

I daydream a lot in physical class and while eating and watching movies. And when I try to sleep. And when I'm in waiting rooms or trying to study. Literally everywhere to the point where I often forget they're in my head.

3. I am very forgetful. Fuck, i forgot what the things on this list are. I forgot to take my medicines. I forget what I'm saying half way through the sentence. Literally a pain in my ass.

4. Idk if this just stress or something else, but ever since I was a child I would suck my thumb (still do), bite my nails, pick at my skin and hair. I would pull my hair and eyelashes qnd eyebrows. Rubs my skin. Scratch till it's bleeding. I feel very horrible if I don't do it.

5. Xakwdlkdkalkdadkod I literally can not remember I had a whole list figured out and I can't remember it anymore because I got distracted in between oh god.

6. Oh wait, restlessness. Always shaking my legs or ripping up tissue or tapping my fingers, picking at my body or sucking my thumb. Anything to keep my occupied. Without any sort of physical activity i feel very fuzzy. Like somethings not right.

7. I've heard about rsd and idk if this is it but I'm literally the type of person to overexplain and apologise quickly even if the other person gave no indication of being hurt.

My mother could ask me how my studies are going and I get very defensive and angry because I feel like she's trying trying imply I'm not studying enough even though that's not her intent.

I'm sorry for going on for too long. I hope you can help me figure out if this is normal or not. Thank you so much and I hope you and your family are safe, healthy and happy.

Unfortunately, you’re right that it’s harder for both girls and POC to get ADHD diagnoses. Even though both sexes show equal numbers of people with ADHD, it goes under-diagnosed in AFAB individuals.

But everything you just described sounds exactly like ADHD, yeah. The Neurotypical brain doesn’t fixate on things like that (not to the point of skipping loads of classes and it being all they can think about, anyway.)

And the one about sucking your thumb sounds like stimming, something neurodivergent people do.

#adhd #long post #nucleic-acid03

[jackrrabbit]

it will come back [pt. 1] /// Yandere Shigaraki x f!Reader

Summary: You have a bad habit of picking up strays, and the half-dead villain you find bleeding out in a dumpster is no exception. [Part 2] [Part 3]

A/N: Low budget yandere for my greasy king. This concept has definitely been done before, but I couldn’t resist. This is my first non-smut on this acct and I’ll be so sad if it bombs 😭

Title from the Hozier song: “don’t let it in with no intention to keep it / jesus christ, don’t be kind to it / oh honey don’t feed it / it will come back.”

Tags/warnings: light yandere, minor injury, angst, Shiggy likes you, reader needs a friend and a good night’s sleep. [In later parts but not in this one: violence, sex, more yandere, 18+]

You’ve always had a soft spot for strays. Maybe that’s why you became an ER nurse—from the first abandoned puppy you brought home as a kid to the patients you refuse to give up on even when it looks hopeless, you’ve never been able to turn a blind eye when something needs your help. Sometimes (times like this) you wish you knew better. It’s hard enough to take care of yourself these days.

Today’s shift was…what, 16 hours? 17? The 20-minute walk from the bus stop to your apartment building feels like it takes twice that long in the rain. God, you need a shower. And a decent night’s sleep, preferably for at least 12 hours. Tomorrow’s your day off, and you’re ready to take advantage of it the best way you know how: Netflix, soju, and your favorite vibrator. But tonight? As soon as you’re clean, you’re going to pig out on leftovers and collapse into the bed that’s the only halfway nice piece of furniture in your shithole apartment. You really do deserve a break; you’ve earned it.

Unfortunately, as usual, the universe has other plans.

You hear him before you see him: wheezing, choked breaths, like someone’s trying to breathe with an anvil on their chest. You’re not quite out of nurse mode so your mind starts trying to diagnose the issue before you even register what you’re hearing. Fluid in the lungs, possibly blood. That hacking isn’t good. Broken ribs? Definitely bruised. But probably not a puncture…

The breathing is coming from down an alley next to your building. It’s dark enough that you can’t see from the street what’s making the noise. And you’re not a fool, you know it’s a bad idea to walk down pitch-black alleys late at night, especially in this area—a neighborhood you’re living in by necessity, because it’s the only place cheap enough for you to get by. But the coughing…it just sounds so awful. It sounds like it hurts.

Your phone’s already in your hand with 119 dialed and ready to call (standard practice when you’re walking home by yourself), but you turn the flashlight on and shine it down the alleyway. “Hello? Anyone there?”

Nothing responds, but you can still hear the breathing. You step in a little deeper, swinging your light from side to side and looking over the heaps of trash bags overflowing from the dumpster. The raindrops make clicking sounds as they hit the plastic, and you can hear gurgling from a rain spout down the side of the building, but the wheezing doesn’t stop.

One more step. And then one more. You wish there was something you could do to make the splash of your rain boots in the puddles a little less loud. Something about this situation—the rain, the dark, the flat grey light from your cellphone, and that horrible hacking breath—it makes you feel like you’re walking into a horror movie. But you don’t stop walking.

The hacking is coming from a man propped up on the wall between a few XL bags of trash. The black outfit he’s wearing almost blends into the bags, but a mop of grey-blue hair gives him away. His head is slumped onto his chest, and if he’s conscious he doesn’t show it. “Hello?” you ask again, even less confident that you’re going to get a response.

No answer.

The smell of garbage is…ugh…hard to ignore, but on top of it is an oppressive stench of copper coming from the man passed out in the trash. You kneel down to get a better look and yep, he’s covered in blood. It’s hard to make out in the low light, but there’s a trio of long gashes in the man’s abdomen, cutting apart the skin and flesh so deep you can see traces of a slim layer of yellow fat between all the inky clotted blood. It looks like he was attacked by an animal. Or someone with an animal quirk. There are a lot of villains in this neighborhood.

And the coughing...definitely internal injuries. Whoever this guy is, he needs treatment. You hold up your phone to hit the call button on your pre-dialed 119—

“Don’t.” The voice is a growl, low and surprisingly firm despite the scratchiness. You jerk back and clutch your phone to your chest, caught off guard not just by the interruption but by the intensity of the face glaring up at yours.

His eyes are red. “You need an ambulance,” you tell him in your calmest nurse voice.

“If you try to call the police, I’ll—kill you,” the man says, but the threat is a little less threatening when he has to stop in the middle to retch blood onto his own chin.

You glare back at him but don’t call the emergency number. There are a lot of of reasons why he wouldn’t want to go to the hospital, but the most obvious one is probably true. “You’re a criminal. A villain?”

He doesn’t respond, choosing instead to keep glaring at you like you’ve committed some mortal sin against his ancestors by having the nerve to check on him and try to help him. Somehow it pisses you off. When you were getting your ADN, you once took a temp job doing health screenings at a local middle school and you would always get so annoyed at the kids. Didn’t they see you were just doing your job? Why is it so hard to understand that what you’re doing is for their own good?

Stupid kids. Stupid villain. “You’d rather bleed out and die?”

The man bares his teeth at you, and it’s a pretty disturbing scene considering how they’re covered in scarlet. “You think they’re going to save me? Think I’ll go to the hospital and get all my HP restored?”

He’s mocking you now. You only have a second to move out of the way before he spits off to the side. “I mean…that’s how a hospital works.”

“If you think I would—make it out of that ambulance alive, you’re—dumber than you look.” His voice is interspersed with coughs.

“Well, you’re not going to live if I leave you here.” You hold up your phone, ready to call the ambulance, but in a shocking display of agility the man lunges forward and grabs it out of your hand. “Hey, wait! Give that…back…”

Your voice trails off as your phone crumbles—literally crumbles to dust in the man’s fingers. Once he’s satisfied that there’s no way for you to call the cops, he slumps back onto the trash bags and closes his eyes, apparently exhausted from the effort.

Goddamnit…! For a second, you can only stare blankly at the pile of dust that used to be your $300 smartphone. And then you’re seized by something, maybe not hatred but an annoyance so strong you can feel it in your throat, and you decide right then and there that this villain is not going to die. You’re going to save him. Out of spite.

You’re not sure how you manage to half-carry him from the alley to your apartment, but you do. You’re lucky it’s ass-o-clock at night and no one’s in the lobby or the elevator, or you’d definitely be getting some looks trying to lug a maimed body around. What would you say if someone did call the cops? Don’t worry, don’t worry about it officer, it’s just my friend drank a little too much, oh those wounds? We were at a costume party, haha…

But no one sees you, and no one calls the cops. The man is unconscious the whole time you’re carrying him, and by the time you have him laid out on a shower curtain on your living room floor his breathing is a little bit shallower than it was before. You’ve got your tools—nothing fancy, just some gauze and closures and antiseptic from your personal first aid kit. It’s not much, but it’ll have to be enough.

“Let’s get to work, asshole,” you tell the unconscious body in front of you, and you crack your knuckles.

///

The day after you pick the villain out of the garbage, your body decides that it’s not going to let you sleep in no matter how much you need it. You can tell because the huge windows in your bedroom—the only saving grace of this apartment, honestly—are depositing golden-pink sunrise light over everything you see when you open your eyes, including the villain’s face. Which is about six inches away from yours.

“You smell like death,” you tell him sleepily. He doesn’t move.

He’s…probably in his early twenties, you think, but it’s hard to tell because of all the wrinkles. His hair is on the longer side, and it’s striped with rusty brown smears from his blood. Again, you notice how red his irises are. Have you ever seen someone with eyes that color before? You’re pretty sure you haven’t.

“You slept for a long time,” the villain says, finally moving back so he’s not breathing into your mouth.

“Yeah, I was tired. From saving your life.” You sit up and rub your temples. “I’m thirsty…”

Before you can finish your complaint, the villain is holding a glass of water out to you in an awkward 4-fingered grip.

“Um, thanks, I guess.” You suck down the water and immediately feel better, enough that you realize how wrong it is that he’s up and moving around and probably undoing all your hard work. “You should be lying down.”

“The floor hurt, and I was bored.”

“Lie on the couch then. You can watch TV. But first—“ He’s sitting on the edge of your bed next to you, and you make him lie down flat so you can look at the injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as they looked last night—no walk in the park, but at least you won’t have a corpse in your apartment in a few hours.

When you’re done inspecting him, he sits up and asks you for a shirt. You had to cut his off, not that it was any great loss. The thing was shredded. Him pointing it out is the only thing that makes you really realize he’s shirtless, so you give him an oversized pajama shirt of yours. It has the name and motto of your old high school on it, and the villain reads it out in a half-mocking tone when you hand it to him.

“Beggars shouldn’t be choosers,” you snap. “You should be grateful.”

“I am grateful,” he says, putting the shirt on. “But I don’t understand.”

“I mean, you need a shirt, right? It’s cold—“

“No. Not that.” He’s staring at you again, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact. “Why you didn’t leave me where you found me last night.”

There’s a lot you could tell him, all of it a little bit true. You were curious. You believed him when he said he wouldn’t make it out of the hospital alive. You couldn’t leave him alone the same way you can’t leave abandoned puppies alone. You wanted to prove to him that you were right, and that being stubborn wouldn’t get him what he wanted. But you don’t say that. “You killed my phone, so you owe me a new one. And I can’t get that back if you bleed out.”

He’s looking at you like he doesn’t believe you, and you fidget under his gaze until he sighs and says, “Whatever.”

You have to let him lean on your shoulder when he walks back to the living room to lie down on your couch. How the hell did he even get to your bedroom by himself? You really didn’t think this through—what are you supposed to do with an infirm possible villain who can barely walk unsupported without opening his injuries back up?

But that’s a problem for tomorrow you to deal with. Today, you’re content to set your laptop up on the coffee table so the two of you can watch TV in…oddly companionable (if you’re not imagining it) silence. It’s almost the lazy day off you were daydreaming about before you got yourself into this mess, and the atmosphere is so relaxed that before you can really decide whether to force the man to go to the hospital or turn him out on the street (or…?) you’re dozing off on your couch like there isn’t a potentially dangerous stranger lying beside you with his head just a few inches from your lap.

When you wake up, your problem is solved for you. He’s gone, and it’s like he was never there—except you’re down a cellphone and a pajama shirt, and your shower curtain is drenched with blood. You wrap it up with the rest of the soiled medical supplies and toss all of it in a dumpster a mile away from your building without knowing exactly why.

///

It’s not the last you see of him, but somehow you had a feeling that was going to be the case.

He scares the shit out of you the first time he visits (over time, that’s how you’ll start to think of his little unannounced drop-ins: visits. Like you’re being visited by a ghost or something). You’re coming back from another grueling shift in the ER, so tired you think you might be sleepwalking, and what do you find when you come in your apartment but a strange white-haired man sitting on your couch eating dry cereal out of the box and flipping through one of your books?

You nearly piss yourself.

He doesn’t seem surprised, which makes sense, considering he’s a villain and he’s probably used to pulling this dramatic entrance thing on people. He certainly doesn’t seem the least bit threatened when you brandish the mini canister of pepper spray on your keychain and demand that he tell you how he got in if he wants to retain the power of eyesight.

“It was unlocked,” he says.

“It was not unlocked,” you reply, rolling your eyes. You may be sleep deprived, but you’re not careless. Never careless.

“Whatever. Calm down. You’re not going to use that on me.”

He’s right, but you don’t want to admit it. If he wanted to do something to hurt you, he could’ve done it that first night. And you’re too tired to really put up a fight, so you just put the cap back on the pepper spray and flop down next to him on the couch. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He looks at you curiously from between his shaggy bangs, like you’re the one intruding in his home and not the other way around, then reaches out to hand something to you. “Here, payback.”

It’s a cell phone—not a smartphone like the one he destroyed, but a flip phone circa the 2000s, the kind that forces you to press “9” four times to get the letter “F”. You stare at it for a second, then look back at the villain. “Are you kidding? Did you get this from a museum?”

“Take it or leave it.” His feet are propped up on your coffee table, but you can’t make yourself care. Actually, it looks nice…him stretched out with an odd look of comfort on his lanky form.

You lean back on the couch and kick up your feet next to his. “Fine. Thanks, I guess.”

He shrugs.

“How are your wounds healing?” Why are you trying to make conversation with this guy? He’s…a villain, right? Not that you’ve ever received affirmative confirmation of that fact, but the hesitance to call the police and the breaking and entering are pretty good tells. But…it might be weird, but since you picked him up that day, you’ve felt a kind of kinship with him.

Alone. Abandoned. No place to go. No one to save him. It’s not a pretty comparison, but you can’t deny it rings true.

Maybe that’s why you pick up strays.

“They’re fine,” he tells you after so long a pause that you’ve almost forgotten your question. “Doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

You take a long look at him, at his posture—he’s relaxed, but his abdomen is crunched a little bit, curled in on himself so subtly that even you wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t looking. It’s not your problem. He’s an adult, and you’re sure he could be seeking real medical attention if he really needed it. You’re in no way obligated to perform some kind of checkup on this arrogant dick who literally broke into your apartment to give you a shitty phone and eat your cereal. The sensible thing to do is to tell him to forget that you live here and hopefully never see him again.

His head tips back to rest on the top of the couch, and he holds your book up to read. At this angle his long hair is out of the way of his face, and you notice among the deep-set creases in his skin a pair of wide scars across his right eye and on the corner of his lips. They’re pale and faded—old, then—but they look off to you, and after a while of snatching glances at his face you realize it’s because they’re healed badly, extraordinarily badly, the kind of healing that you don’t see very often because it only occurs when a stubborn patient tries to let a particularly nasty injury heal on its own. The part of you that isn’t sensible wonders how old he was when he got those scars.

Has he learned his lesson?

You doubt it.

“Lie down,” you sigh. “Let me see the cuts.”

Which is how you find yourself examining this annoying villain again, checking on his injuries and giving him recommendations for care like you’re his personal nurse or something. It’s not a role you enjoy playing, but at least he takes it without complaint, and you start to wonder if maybe this is why he broke into your apartment in the first place. If anything, he looks calmer when you’ve flipped up his shirt and prodded at his wounds, his eyes closing slowly and freeing you of that scarlet-red gaze.

He’s like a cat, you think, and then you shake your head and remind yourself that it’s a terrible idea to think of this man—this grown man who is probably a great danger to you and others—as a wild animal you’re trying to domesticate.

When he finally leaves (only after you drop a couple dozen unsubtle hints about how long you’ve been at work and how exhausted you are), you take a moment before you sink into bed to look at the flip phone. It’s no nicer than your original impression, but as you scroll through the screens you notice that it’s factory-new, except for one thing: there’s a contact programmed in, a phone number with an area code you don’t recognize listed under “T”. And you don’t want to be curious…

…but you are. Shocking.

Down the rabbit hole it is, you decide. So you text him.

///

[You: 12:03 AM] > Hey it’s (Y/N) > (the girl whose apartment you broke into) > What does T stand for? [T: 12:07 AM] > What do u think [You: 12:09 AM] > ?? [T: 12:09 AM] > My name > Dont you know who i am [You: 12:10 AM] > Are you famous? [T: 12:10 AM] > You dont watch the news do u [You: 12:11 AM] > Not really > What’s your name then [T: 12:12 AM] > … > Didnt u say u had to sleep [You: 12:15 AM] > Oh yeah > Whatever I guess > Good night

[T: 2:34 AM] > Its Tomura > Dont look it up

[You: 8:02 AM] > Ok > I won’t > Tomura

➠ [Part 2]

#Shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura #yandere bnha #yandere shigaraki tomura x reader #bnha imagines #feeling real shy posting this 👉👈 #bnha #yandere shigaraki tomura #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #mha #my hero academia #mha imagines #my hero academia imagines #shigaraki tomura/reader #yandere shigaraki tomura/reader #yandere

[skylights2000]

Moving On (Life Update)

Hey everybody,

I know it’s been a really long time since I’ve posted anything other than responses to people, and I’m here to offer an honest explanation and tell you some things I’ve been avoiding.

I don’t really want to go all the way back, but I think it’s needed for context, so bear with my rambling for a minute.

I’ve never been very good with people. That may seem shocking to some of you, but that’s because you haven’t met me. Online, I can think and put my thoughts into words, but in real life, I’m not good with words. I often say things wrong because I don’t know how to express it, and a lot of people get annoyed with that. I never really had friends because of that. The only friend I had through childhood was my sister, and that…It wasn’t a good relationship. I’m well aware that siblings fight. That’s normal. But, fights with my sister were far from normal, and they only got worse over time.

I was diagnosed with depression for the first time when I was 7 years old, though I didn’t really understand that at the time. I was put on antidepressants that my parents called ‘happy pills’. They didn’t want to tell me what they were actually called because I was a curious kid, and they knew I’d look it up or ask someone about it.

Over time, I learned to manage it, and they eventually took me off the medicine. For a while, everything was fine. Then, the bullying started. There’s never been a time in my life that I wasn’t bullied by someone. Some of them were outright violent while others were emotionally violent. My sister was the worst of them though. She was manipulative and mean. She talked her friends into hating me and quite frankly, made my life hell. I ate alone in the corner of the cafeteria to avoid people. I flinched every time someone walked too close to me. I would push my dresser in front of my bedroom door because it didn’t lock, and I was afraid of my sister. The saddest thing was that I thought it was normal. I thought it was normal for me to be treated that way because I had never experienced any different. My parents both worked hard to make ends meet, so they weren’t around often, so I really didn’t have a loving relationship with anyone. Even when I learned that I wasn’t supposed to be treated that way, I still didn’t fight back. Maybe it was just because she was the only real constant in my life.

Things kept getting worse though. My sister became physically and emotionally abusive. She treated me horribly, but the worst part was that she convinced me that I deserved it, that I had done something disastrous just by being born. She treated me like I was a disease that she couldn’t get rid of. So, I tried to do the job for her.

I started self harming when I was in 8th grade. I failed classes, lost my will to do anything, and slept through most of the day because nightmares kept me up at night. I wrote my first suicide note that year. I never used it, but I never got rid of it either.

Remember how I said I wasn’t good with words? Yeah, I meant that. I was so bad at them that I wrote my mom a note explaining that I needed help because I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t even say it to her face. Pathetic, huh?

Either way, I got help and was put back on antidepressants. Things didn’t get better though. The abuse escalated, the bullying got worse, and the self harm became more frequent. It was a vicious cycle that I dealt with until 11th grade. The worst year of my life.

That was the year they found my old suicide note. I was put in inpatient care at a hospital that dealt with trauma and mental disorders. That’s where I was diagnosed with Social Anxiety, Depression, and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

I got out, and things were better for about two months before things went right back to the way they’d always been. 5 months after that, I tried to overdose on my sleeping pills. Obviously, that didn’t work out since I’m here writing this.

Things actually did start to get better after that. My parents finally realized just how far the damage went, and my sister finally saw just how much pain she’d caused.

Both of us started going to therapy, both, seperate and together. The bullying at school stopped after word got around about what happened. Some of them even apologized to me, and I eventually learned how to forgive them. It didn’t erase what they did, but holding onto all that anger and pain was only hurting me. It was still hard to let it go. I didn’t know what I would be after the pain was gone. I was afraid of finding out. But eventually, the pain of holding on became greater than the fear of letting go, so I’m sure you can imagine which one I chose.

I started writing when I was in 7th grade. I really got into it though shortly after I turned 17. It was my escape, a place where I could dream of anything and live a better life, even if it was only temporary. Writing and Music were my passions. They still are. I have more music than I do anything else, and I have hundreds of documents of things I’ve written on my phone.

I started this blog on a whim as a way of escape for me and anyone else that needed one. This blog grew far beyond anything I thought it would be, and I’ve met so many lovely people because of it. That’s why I’ve been pushing myself so hard to keep posting new content, but one day, I just stopped. I couldn’t think. Ideas were few and far between, and motivation, or lack thereof, became my biggest obstacle.

I felt useless when I wasn’t writing because so many people were using me as their escape. Things got shorter and more rushed because I was trying to cram every ounce of creativity I could into something before my motivation vanished again. It wasn’t good, and after a while, I started to see that my escape had become a chore, something I did just because I felt like I had to, and I hated that.

So, I just stopped posting. For a while, I stopped writing altogether. Then I got in this huge fight with my family, and my sister slapped me for the first time in almost a year. In a way, it was almost like I reverted back to my old self. I pushed the dresser in front of my bedroom door, brought out this old, bulky pair of noise canceling headphones, blared my music, and started writing. I made it through the entirety of my ‘Favorites’ playlist (which is 253 songs) before I took a break, and it felt good because I wasn’t writing for anyone else. I wasn’t writing to impress other people. I was just writing for me.

That’s what I want. I want to write without the worry and pressure. That’s why I’m putting this blog (and all my other writing blogs) on an official hiatus. I’m not saying I’ll be gone forever or that I’ll never write here again. I’ll still be around. You can still message me. I’m not disappearing. I’m just taking more time to let myself recharge so that the times I do come back here, I can come back with the full force of my imagination.

I’m not leaving you guys, so don’t go thinking you’ll never see me again. Whether you send a message, leave a meme, or just like something, I’ll always be there. I’ll always be here.

I love you guys,

Madison (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

#i love you guys #this isn’t a goodbye #it’s just a see ya later

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Take Your Father to Work Day (S2, E4)

As many people have said: This is one of the STRONGEST Prodigal Son episodes to date. It was incredible. My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below. 

I reference Malcolm’s mental health and sexual violence in this one. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:16 - OMG. Destiny’s Child. Whoever is in charge of the soundtrack for this show needs a raise. Or an award. It’s SOO GOOD.

0:18 - How great is this montage of Martin’s prison life too? I mean the insane mundanity of it combined with “Survivor” and Michael Sheen’s incredible acting is some perfect mix between hilarious, captivating, and just brilliant. 

1:06 - I feel so bad for Mr.David. He has to deal with Martin’s theatrics every day. Poor guy looks done in this episode.

1:35 - CAN HECTOR BECOME A BIGGER CHARACTER?! PLEASE. He’s hilarious and I love him. “Bro. You got your ass jumped at Sunday School.”

2:09 - Wait. What? Jerry’s getting released?!? I mean, I understand that he’s no longer in need of psychiatric care......but he still killed someone. Shouldn’t he just be getting transferred to a different prison?

2:25 - Does Jerry have a death wish?!?! He’s talking about being released in a room full of jealous murderers. Everyone looks sooooo pissed at Jerry. 

2:54 - Martin is such a liar. However - Michael Sheen’s performance is astoundingly good. Like he shines brighter than usual in this episode. 

 3:17 - Poor Malcolm. “What’s going on?” Poor boy looks terrified. 

3:23 - I love everything about this scene. I love how freaked out Malcolm is. I love you extra Jessica is. BUT HANS. Holy shit. I want Hans in every episode. He’s crazy in a good way and such a beautiful comedic relief. 

3:30 - OMG.  “Skinny milennial” might be the best thing anyone has ever called Malcolm. Someone please tell JT and Dani - hell, even Gil. They would tease him forever and I want to see it. 

3:45 - 1) Malcolm is a terrible liar. 2) Jessica knows he’s lying. 3) This story about the wine is interesting. I wonder when and how Malcolm first told Jessica the story. Was it the same night? AND HOW DID ENDICOTT’S BODY END UP IN ESTONIA?!? I WANT MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THAT NIGHT. 

3:54 - “Ainsley and I came back from the hospital after Gil’s stabbing.”....we never saw Ainsley at the hospital. Was she there and left before Malcolm got there? Or is this a plot hole I need to ignore?

4:05 - The way that the flashbacks of Endicott’s murder is spliced into this scene with Malcolm’s cover story is so perfectly executed. It’s so captivating and so so well done.

4:14 - Malcolm’s eyes look quite manic during the retelling of this story. Poor guy is desperate to have everyone believe the story. Poor guy probably wants to convince himself that the story is true. 

4:16 - Wait. What? Ainsley has always been clumsy? .....interesting. I’ve seen no evidence of it but I’ll believe it for the sake of the plot. 

4:23 - “At least one of you has a soul.” Holy shit.  hahaha Hans is brutal. I love him so much. I also love how this line makes me, as a viewer, think “does that mean the writers want me to think that Ainsley doesn’t have a soul?” ...or more likely that she doesn’t feel emotion (which can be interpreted as a lack of a soul). That she’s a psychopath like Martin?

4:27 - OMG. Jessica loves Hans. He speaks to her dramatic rich woman soul. So entertaining. 

4:30 - Poor. Malcolm. This boy is always in some sort of emotional turmoil. For once I wish he was happy (but also I love the emotional whump so if that could continue that would be great). 

4:44 - “It’s so much more than that.” *chef’s kiss* comedic genius.  I would watch a whole episode of Mr.David making fun of Martin. But can we all just take a minute to appreciate that Martin doesn’t seem bothered at all that Mr.David is basically verbally telling him that he sucks? It’s almost like Martin thinks they’re friends?

4:50 - Martin is strangely chill talking to Mr.David in this scene. It’s a little off-putting. He almost seems normal. He’s not putting on his usual theatrics or ranting about doctor stuff. It makes you wonder how many different sides of Martin that Mr.David has witnessed. 

5:01 - “Oh no. Not Jerry.” LMAO. HOLY SHIT. Michael Sheen needs an Emmy. His delivery of that line might be the funniest thing this show has ever given us. hahahahaha

5:29 - Damn. This is not Gil’s month. First Jessica dumps him. Then he has to deal with Martin Whitly in the flesh. That plus the on-going drama of worrying about Malcolm’s mental health and the stress of reintegrating into work after a STAB WOUND.

5:31 - Gil’s face. hahahahaha he’s like, “Kill me. This can’t be happening. I hate everything. I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.”

5:37 - “Yeah. Why’d you do it?” GIL. OMG. I’m so proud of Gil for dissing Martin to his face. BUT ALSO I worry that that’s going to give Martin more of a reason to hate Gil. I’m genuinely scared that the writers have Martin escaping as the pre-finale episode and Martin trying to kill Gil as the finale. Maybe Gil shows up trying to save Malcolm, AInsley, and Jessica (whom Martin is trying to abduct or hurt or something) idk I just feel like it’s going to be a likely subplot somewhere. I don’t want an attempt on Gil’s life to become a season finale tradition. 

5:56 - Ew. “Gilly” That is a terrible nickname. I think I threw up a little. 

6:00 - Damn. I love this scene. I could watch Martin and Gil pretending to be civil to each other for years. So entertaining. 

6:29 - hahahahaha OMG. Gil’s reaction to Martin saying, “Thank you” PLUS Edrisa’s sudden excitement at realizing she’s 10 ft away from Malcolm’s Dad - a medical legend, is magical.

6:35 - Not gonna lie. When Edrisa said, “Ok. I’m gonna play it cool.” I had to pause my TV and walk away to calm down. I was experiencing a mixture of second hand embarrassment for Edrisa’s inevitable behaviour, excitement for what is to come, and fear that Martin would be a jerk to our precious Edrisa. 

6:44 - Edrisa and Martin interacting was everything I’d hoped. It was strange, funny, sweet, and disturbing at the same time. The sweet, eccentric girl who attends cuddle parties is getting buddy-buddy with a literal serial killer. Hilarious. Even better is Gil’s background reactions as he desperately tries to keep Edrisa away from the psychopath. hahaha <3 

7:12 - Gil is currently living in a nightmare. hahahahaha 

7:47 - I love this. I love how Malcolm and Ainsley interact. Malcolm is such a good big brother. IDK something about these two adult siblings chilling on a couch and warning each other about Mom’s current rampage reminds me of myself and my younger brother. <3 Warms my cold dead heart. <3 PLUS has anyone else noticed that (as long as Ainsley isn’t hounding Malcolm about a story or airing out his mental health diagnoses like the bs from Q&A) Malcolm is extremely calm around Ainsley. Like maybe the calmest we’ve ever seen him?

8:20 - “Oh Ainsley, that’s a horrible idea.” This is adorable. Malcolm is totally acting like Ainsley’s surrogate dad. He’s trying so hard to protect her. <3 

8:42 - There’s something about the way that Malcolm says, “Hey Gil” that makes my heart swell. Idk why. I just their father/son relationship. So much. And it makes me so happy to see Malcolm having semi-normal interactions with people in general. 

8:48 - This. Is. The. Funniest. Episode. Of. Prodigal. Son. To. Date. Holy shit. The comical dread on Malcolm’s face. Martin’s glee on the phone. Gil’s general “done with life” body language. Ainsley’s utter joy at her luck. MALCOLM DRAINING THE ALKA-SELTZER. Ainsley saying “chug chug”. So perfect. 

9:27 - Is it just me or has Jessica been showing way more concern for her children’s well-being this season? At first I thought it was because she was so happy with Gil....but that’s not a thing anymore (because Jessica is a MORON - seriously if this show gets cancelled before Gil and Jessica are living happily ever after I will riot) so now Idk. 

10:02 - EDRISA WHY DID YOU NOT TELL GIL AND MALCOLM THAT THE SURGEON WAS ON THE PHONE?!? For a hot second, poor Malcolm looks like he thinks he’s hallucinating. 

10:40 - Gil hanging up on Martin and then telling Edrisa that she needs to make new friends is everything. It’s vicious. Gil looks absolutely furious in this scene and I love it. 

11:07 - Yo. Edrisa’s got some baggage. hahaha Malcolm looks soooo uncomfortable with her outburst.

11:18 - I would pay good money to watch Martin and Gil have a pissing match in front of Malcolm every episode. It’s amazing. They’re constantly trying to one-up each other. The tension is palatable. And someone Malcolm is the only one acting like a mature, working adult. Malcolm. My mentally unstable, skinny millennial. 

11:34 - OH SHIT. Martin did not just bring Jessica into this. Oh SNAP. Does Martin know that Jessica dumped Gil?!? 

11:56 - “I’m going to need a little more than that.” Damn. Malcolm looks pissed here. Pretty sure he hates that Martin just brought up Gil/Jessica. Malcolm’s bio-dad and real dad are fighting and it’s very clear that Malcolm is on Gil’s side.

12:17 - The look that Gil and Malcolm share here is perfect. I love it so much. You can see how annoyed they both are, how much they hate that they need Martin on this case, how much neither of them want Martin’s help. <3 

12:23 - SOMEONE GIVE GIL A MEDAL. This man just grit his teeth, smiled, and let MARTIN WHITLY - the man who tried to KILL HIM work on his case. Why? Because Malcolm silently asked him to. Because Gil loves Malcolm and knows that it’s better for Martin to work with them officially than for Malcolm to work with Martin in secret. At least this way he can look out for Malcolm. 

12:42 - “It’s taken Dr. Marsh years...” soooo was Dr. Marsh the name of the Asian doctor leading group therapy last season? Is this just a new actor, same character scenario? OR am I supposed to forget that Asian doctor existed last season? 

13:04 - I can’t tell if Gil hates this whole “father-son in group therapy idea”. He looks kind of like he hates it (although he is looking at Martin in the shot). I’m inclined to think that Gil is worried. He doesn’t like how nice Martin is acting toward Malcolm. He doesn’t want Malcolm to get hurt again. BUT I also think there’s probably a part of Gil that thinks group therapy might be beneficial for Malcolm’s mental health? I mean it was only ever going to be terrible or amazing. Nothing in between. 

13:12 - “They hate you don’t they?” GIL BRINGING THE FIRE. hahahaha angry Gil is really funny.

13:43 - OH HELL YES. More Hector. <3

13:46 - hahaha YES. Hector this is Malcolm - the son. You know, the one you had to role-play? hahaha I feel like Hector is a really cool dude (aside from the murder). 

13:53 - Damn. Hector pays attention in group. He has a lot of info about Malcolm. I would’ve thought the other inmates would just tune Martin out when he starts his monologues. 

13:59 - “He’s got a thing with hands?” hahahaha OMG. How did I never connect the hand thing. DOES Malcolm have a thing with hands? ....I kind of want that to be cannon?

14:00 - “You’re crazier than me.”  Ouch. That must’ve hurt. Think about it - Malcolm is ridden with guilt about Endicott. He’s haunted by what he experienced as a kid and by what his father is. Malcolm believes he’s broken beyond repair. On some level Malcolm thinks he’s crazy. Now a literal killer just told him he’s crazy. That just affirms what Malcolm already believes about himself. :( PLUS right after Hector tells Malcolm that he’s crazy - the camera pans to Martin. MARTIN looks scared. Martin is losing control of the situation and he doesn’t like it. Martin knows on some level that he ruined Malcolm’s mental health. He almost looks a little guilty?

14:31 - FINALLY. We have a cannon occurrence of someone calling Malcolm “Mal” (or “Malc” if you’re going by HULU’s subtitles?). I hope the writers start having people call Malcolm by Mal/Malc more often. 

14:35 - I can’t ignore it anymore.  DID HECTOR HAVE THAT SCAR ON HIS FACE LAST SEASON?!? I DON’T REMEMBER IT. 

14:38 - YES YES. Malcolm looks angry. I LOVE IT. Scream at him Malcolm! Give him hell!

15:03 - Yikes. Malcolm sounds like he’s about to cry here. :( My heart breaks for him. .....I wonder if this is the first time Martin has ever heard how much pain he caused Malcolm straight from Malcolm? Martin looks hella uncomfortable here. 

15:25 - The inmates (literal murderers) empathizing with Malcolm is twisted, beautiful, and haunting. These guys understand how much it sucks to hang out with Martin. These guys can see the real pain in Malcolm’s expression. They know he isn’t lying. Part of me honestly wonders if one of them is going to try and hurt Martin for Malcolm. They looked pissed enough by the end of the conversation that I kind of believe they might. 

16:00 - Malcolm is not acting here. For once he’s not projecting his problems onto potential suspects. He’s just venting to suspects. No pretence. I love it. BUT 100% of me wants to know where Gil is during this session. Is Gil listening? Is the session being recorded for evidence? There’s no way Gil (or Dani) wouldn’t confront Malcolm about this. Even if they just asked him if he’s okay. 

16:10 - hahahaha look at Doctor Marsh. He’s like “ooookkkkkaaaayyyy. I’m a psychiatrist in a psychiatric facility for people who have committed violent crimes. BUT THIS IS THE NUTTIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN.”

16:12 - Look at the way Martin narrows his eyes. He’s trying to figure out if Malcolm is acting. He’s finally realizing that Malcolm truly hates what Martin subjected him to as a child. I honestly think this interaction will cause Martin to shift his “become a murderer like me” agenda from Malcolm to Ainsley. He’s finally seen the depth of Malcolm’s hatred and pain and knows deep down that Malcolm will never turn into a serial killer. But there’s still hope for Ainsley. That’s not to say that Martin won’t stop gaslighting Malcolm - he totally will.

17:10 - Martin has been at Claremont for 20 YEARS. How is it that he didn’t know a gold card existed?!?

17:21 - I honestly thought Marsh was going to get shanked. For the gold card. No other reason. 

18:07 - It’s not supposed to be funny but Burt freaking out and punching Marsh is HYSTERICAL. hahahahaha

18:10 - That guard who pushed Malcolm out of the room and into a safe area? He’s in my good books. Every time I watch him push Malcolm to safety I want to give him a hug. Just for doing his job. What the hell is wrong with me?!?

18:18 - UGH. I hate that creepy, satisfied look that Martin gives Malcolm. It’s the same look he gave baby Malcolm in the pilot. It’s the “we’re the same” look and it clearly bothers Malcolm. :( 

18:26 - Oh look. 18 minutes into the episode and we finally have a Dani appearance!! annnnnnd no mention of JT. I mean, I get it. He’s on paternity leave. I’m happy for him. BUT TWO EPISODES WITHOUT A JT APPEARANCE IS TORTURE. At least give me a throw away line about how happy JT is or about the baby!?? Honestly - it’s my biggest gripe with this episode. 

18:56 - soooo either Dr. Marsh is a terrible psychiatrist OR you can’t “cure” murderers. 

19:08 - The NYPD knows that Martin cured Jerry?!? HOW? Did Mr. David get Martin to admit to shocking him? Did Mr. David tell the police?!? I don’t remember Martin telling Malcolm. I specifically remember Malcolm saying, “I don’t want to know”

20:02 - Damn. I want Ainsley to go dark so badly. I want to see how badly it would destroy Malcolm and Jessica. I am evil. 

20:52 - Malcolm’s burgundy jacket is gorgeous. That is all.

21:10 - Malcolm knows that Martin wants to escape. This is good. I love this. 

21:55 - THERE’S A WOMENS WARD?!? REVOLUTIONARY INFORMATION. I THOUGHT THEY HAD A SEPARATE HOSPITAL. 

22:00 - Oh wow. Finally - a perk to gender inequality. 

22:52 - This Brightwell scene is so cute. I love watching Malcolm be excited about solving the crime. I love watching Dani gently tease him about how weird he is. I love watching them subtly flirt. Is Malcolm ready for another relationship - hell no. Do I think Dani has forgiven him - not totally. If they got together now it would end badly. But I do want them to be endgame. 

23:11 - Andre is really suspicious throughout this whole scene. I’m convinced that if Dani and Malcolm weren’t too busy flirting Andre would’ve become a suspect really fast. 

23:15 - Why do people get released from psychiatric prisons?!? This is a genuine question. I would’ve thought that everyone in Claremont has committed some seriously heinous crimes and only a very small portion of them are actually sick. The rest of them just pleaded insanity and had good lawyers. But even if they are/were sick. I don’t think the types of mental illnesses that drive people to murder and/or rape is something that can be cured.  Sooo why are they getting released? I guess I just wonder because there’s this guy that’s been in my local news on and off for like 10+ years. He’s molested/raped many young women between the ages of about 16-25. He’s been arrested and released multiple times. He keeps getting released to different major cities in my province (usually a city with a big University) and reoffends within 6 months of being released. Most recently he was arrested last month after being released in October 2020. Clearly he’s going to keep reoffending - so why does he keep getting released? I guess I just don’t understand what the criteria are that allow an inmate who has committed that sort of crime to be released. Here’s a link to one of the more recent news stories if you’re interested: https://vancouverisland.ctvnews.ca/police-warn-of-high-risk-sex-offender-moving-to-victoria-1.5149264

23:23 - hahaha Andre is like, “Yo. This dude is freaky.”

24:15 - Look at how proud Malcolm is of his whole “lobster = murderer” profile. <3 So freaking precious. <3 and Dani looks so amused with him.  <3

24:37 - Sooooo Mr. David isn’t listening to this conversation? He left the room?

24:40 - Jessica going to Martin for parenting help is terrifying. This is a woman in crisis. 

25:20 - But Jessica was right to be paranoid in 97′. She wasn’t being cheated on romantically but her husband was murdering people. 

25:24 - Martin is so selling his kids out here. He knows it. He doesn’t care. He’s having too much fun torturing Jessica. He’s rejoicing at the fact that he gets to play the “I turned the kids to the dark side” card. 

26:40 - Poor Jessica. She looks suspicious and scared. Scared that she raised a killer even though she tried desperately to prevent that very behaviour. 

26:56 - Damn. Martin is having a really good day. First he gets to annoy Gil Arroyo in the flesh. Then Edrisa talks medical with him. Then he gets to work with Malcolm. THEN his ex-wife calls him and he gets to toy with her mind. THEN his daughter, who has literally murdered someone comes to visit him. He is a proud Dad right here and he’s having an amazing day. 

28:00 - Rhonda is terrifying. This girl has perfected the “I’m sweet and unthreatening” while lying and manipulating people. I swear she’s a teenage Queen B personality with a side of violence. 

28:30 - I love how protective Malcolm is of Ainsley. Look how positively livid he is that Marin is talking to her. Malcolm is terrified that Martin is going to purposefully and successfully turn Ainsley into a serial killer. Malcolm doesn’t want to lose his sister. He doesn’t want Jessica to lose her ‘stable’ child.

29:09 - This scares me. This is the kind of Ainsley behaviour from last season that made me believe she is the Whitly child most like Martin. Her ruthlessness and lack of a conscience when it comes to looking for a news story is extremely upsetting. 

30:11 - What the hell happened to Tevin? AND WATKINS?!? We got no closure on those guys. Are they dead? In prison? Is Tevin still in Claremont? Were they transferred to facilities outside of New York State?

30:28 - Malcolm yelling at Martin is perfect. *chef’s kiss* Finally this boy is being honest with his father and he isn’t holding back. 

30:40 - Michael Sheen is an incredible actor. This is an Emmy worthy scene. By Sheen AND Payne.

30:48 - I love how you can see Mr. David just chilling. Sitting outside the door and staring across the hall during this scene. It’s just....can’t he hear the screaming?!? Is he just like, “I can’t take anymore of this today. Not my circus and not my monkeys.”

30:55 - Soooooo this is Martin showing his true colours. There’s definitely a part of Martin that hates Malcolm. I honestly wonder if that part of Martin actively tries/tried to emotionally torture Malcolm now and throughout his childhood. 

31:00 - “And your mother. And you ruined HeR!!!”....does this mean Martin was trying to make Ainsley a serial killer? Maybe after the camping trip when he realized Malcolm was too “weak” to kill anyone? Is this Martin saying that Ainsley is ruined because she didn’t become a serial killer? Or that Ainsley is ruined because she killed Endicott?

31:05 - “But that’s not me.” hahaha OMG. Michael Sheen just flipped between two personalities like nobody’s business. Respect.

31:08 - Martin’s outburst hurt Malcolm. Badly. You can see it all over his face. Even now, when Malcolm is being strong and showing some backbone to Martin, Martin can wound Malcolm with a single phrase. :( 

31:41 - soooo where has Gil been for the past 10 minutes of this episode?

32:02 - Sooooo did Andre kill Jerry for Rhonda? Or did he just know about the murder and keep quiet for Rhonda? Or is his oblivious to the fact that Rhonda killed Jerry? I’m honestly confused here. 

32:20 - Holy shit. Rhonda is crazy. Andre is dead now. Right?

32:48 - Wait. Why did Andre have a gold card? Mr. David only has red. What kind of qualifications does a guard need to get a gold card vs blue, green, or red?!?!

32:55 - Claremont isn’t a punishment for Martin. Solitary is. Martin should live in solitary. He deserves to suffer for his crimes (and the ongoing torture of his son). 

33:05 - How messed up is it that Mr. David’s job is to protect a serial killer? I don’t think I’m brave enough to do something like that. I also don’t know if I could do that for moral reasons. 

33:14 - Damn. That elevator looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since it was installed. It’s sooo much nastier than the hallway outside of the elevator. 

33:50 - Sooo does this mean Martin is eventually going to try and murder someone down here?

33:54 - HE CALLED FOR BACKUP <3 <3 <3 OUR BOY IS GROWING UP AND I’M SO PROUD. <3 

35:40 - FINALLY SOME MALCOLM WHUMP. <3 THIS SEASON HAS BEEN LACKING IT. 

36:00 - This is really interesting to me. I honestly wonder if Martin has some sort of split personality disorder (personality #1: murderous, selfish, psychopath; personality #2: loving, concerned father and lawful doctor). You can see how desperately he wants to escape. But also how much he loves his son. I honestly thought he was going to leave Malcolm to die. 

36:06 - Ugh. Look at his whumped face. <3 <3 <3 ....one thing that I couldn’t stop thinking during all the tazing (which was amazing FYI, I’m not complaining) is this: in QxA (1x07) Mr. David says that he only has a single shot tazer. Why did Andre have a multi-shot tazer? Is this a gold card vs red card thing?

36:40 - WHY THE EFF DOES BACKUP NOT INCLUDE GIL?!?! I KNOW HE’S STILL IN THE BUILDING. 

37:03 - MARTIN, IF YOU TOUCH A HAIR ON DANI’S HEAD I WILL PERSONALLY HUNT YOU DOWN AND KILL YOU MYSELF. He honestly looks like he wants to murder her. 

37:50 - Martin’s speech is not going to help Malcolm’s mental state. At all. 

38:31 - No. No. No. Martin you do NOT get to talk to Dani on a first name basis. Look at how much Dani hates it. 

38:35 - I love how soft Malcolm looks as Martin lifts him up. Look at how Malcolm gently leans into the touch. It breaks my heart. After 20 years Malcolm is still comforted by physical contact with his father. :( 

38:37 - “Put your hands on me again Dr. Whitly, and I’ll blow your head off.” OH HELL YES. Dani is my hero. Iconic. Also - anyone else notice that Dani is chewing gum in this scene (I don’t think she’s chewed gum on camera since the pilot?) it makes her look like so much more of a badass in this scene. 

38:55 - Oh look. The rest of the backup finally showed up. Where were these assholes 5 minutes ago when DANI WAS ALONE? AND WHERE IS GIL?!?!

39:00 - Malcolm thanking Dani is so so precious. And the fact that he’s clearly struggling to breathe and stay conscious is giving me life. ALSO Dani saying, “YOU’re welcome.”?!? *chef’s kiss* :) :) <3

39:30 - So Malcolm definitely knows that Martin almost left him to die so that Martin could escape. 

39:33 - ......Ainsley is currently living with Jessica. Why is Ainsley not at the family dinner? We literally see her in the house in like 30 seconds. 

39:35 - Malcolm in a polo shirt. Malcolm in a polo shirt. Why is it so attractive?!? He looks like a baby cinnamon roll? <3 

39:51 - WHO THE EFF LET AINSLEY INTO THE MURDER BASEMENT?!? WHY AM I EXPECTED TO BELIEVE THAT JESSICA DIDN’T RE-SEAL IT AFTER WATKINS?!?!

40:15 - Jessica desperately tearing apart the living room is heartbreaking. :(

40:29 - Question: Did Jessica send her staff home before she tore apart the living room? Because I can just imagine two of them staring into the living room from the hall like, “She’s finally snapped. Should we call someone?”

41:00 - Jessica is the queen of drama. HOLY SHIT. This reveal was so extra and so perfect. 

41:13 - “I killed him.” “You’re lying.” I love this interaction between Jessica and Malcolm. Malcolm has spent his whole life trying to convince people that he’s not a murderer. To protect Ainsley, his baby sister, he will say the words “I killed him”. Even though that is literally killing a part of Malcolm. Jessica knows it. I love that Jessica can see that Malcolm is lying. She’s not trying to convince herself that he’s innocent. She literally just accused him of murder. She’s scared. Because Malcolm just admitted to killing someone - his biggest fear - and it was a lie. 

41:35 - Watching Bellamy Young’s facial expression as Jessica realizes that Ainsley killed Endicott is a thing of beauty. This woman needs an Emmy too. HELL, CAN WE GIVE THIS WHOLE EPISODE AN EMMY?!?! 

42:00 - Poor Jessica. The guilt she must feel. She’s always thought that Malcolm was the one at risk of being a murderer. He’s a boy (they’re statistically more prone to violence than girls), he was older than Ainsley, he remembers terrible things, Malcolm had continued exposure to Martin throughout his childhood (Ainsley didn’t - I think?). But the child she neglected, the child she thought was safe, the child she thought remained free of Martin’s evil killed someone. It’s a plot-twist that just ripped Jessica’s heart into a million pieces. 

42:30 - Yep. I promise you Malcolm has been psychoanalyzing Ainsley’s past behaviours since the moment she killed Endicott. He’s found traits common to serial killers and he’s terrified that she’ll become one if she remembers what it felt like to kill Endicott. He’s probably kicking himself for not noticing sooner. He’s probably questioning his ability as a profiler and as a big brother. AND the fact that MALCOLM has to protect Jessica AND Ainsley is heartbreaking. It’s way too big a burden. No wonder Malcolm’s mental health is on a downward spiral. 

42:33 - This is the moment Jessica begins grieving for Ainsley. The fear, disbelief, and horror on her face. It’s torture that I can only describe as someone telling a mother that her daughter is dead. Because Ainsley is dead. The person Jessica believed Ainsley was - that little girl is dead. Because Jess just found out the truth. 

42:55 - Jessica is now terrified of her own daughter. That is maybe the most upsetting thing this show has given us. 

43:00 - I saw an interesting theory about how Ainsley is regressing back to her childhood (crawling into bed with Mom, moving back in with Mom) and I must say - that would be a really interesting way for this story to go. Ainsley regressing to a child-like state as she is convicted of murder. As a result she ends up in the women’s ward of Claremont because she can plead insanity. 

This episode was amazing. Seriously, one of the best Prodigal Son episodes to date. Definitely the best of season 2 so far. If you’ve read this far - thanks for hanging out. 

#jess-rewatches-prodigal #malcolm bright #prodigal son #gil arroyo #dani powell #JT Tarmel #ainsley whitly #martin whitly #edrisa tanaka #jessica whitly #I LOVE this show #whump #rewatch #spoliers #malcolm needs a hug #ps #so good #S2 #E4 #2x04 #2x4 #take your father to work day

[annakie]

Month 8 of 6

At the end of June, my cat Patchy was diagnosed with Lymphoma and given 3 to 6 months to live.  We’re about to start month eight.  Here’s an update!

Warning: a little grossness below.

Last Update was around month 4, didn’t realize it’d been that long since I posted. 

I took her in again near the end of October because her bathroom behaviors and uh, consistency... started changing.  So basically my vet saw her he was like “Her breathing is too hard, she’s probably retaining water.”  He took her and did an x-ray and yep. 

So basically the medicine that’s keeping the lymphoma at bay is causing her to retain a lot of water, this is apparently a normal side effect of the medicine.  So since then, she’s been on a second medicine once a day to help her not retain water.  So now she gets special food twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, one for each medicine.  It’s been smooth going, with one checkup near the end of December that went well.  I had another checkup scheduled for next Wednesday.

I celebrated the end of the year, even all by myself, because after the extremely dicey spring with Leela and Patchy, they both made it to the end of the year and everything past that date with Patchy is just a bonus.

The last week or so she’s been “going” outside her box, and it’s not been as it should be, so I moved up her appointment to this morning.  I also have felt like her breathing is again hard.  But hey, literally no lympoma symptoms have cropped up.  She’s eating a ton.  She’s drinking a lot.  Almost no vomiting except like, a hairball twice.

But her stomach is clearly having medicine-related issues.  The vet said this morning that he’s first of all in awe of how great her lymphoma (or lack thereof) is doing.  He continues to not be able to feel it in her body, and we’re thrilled that it’s held at bay for now seven full months.  The vet tech said that they almost never see a lymphoma patient live this long.

But we need to do more about the stomach issues, she’s extremely gassy and... yeah.  So she got a probiotic shot and is now on a third medicine for this week that will hopefully settle that down.  This one will probably be more challenging to get her to take. =\

But honestly, I will take managing an upset stomach for her in exchange for her otherwise feeling good.  Just need to keep adjusting as long as she’s otherwise comfortable.  The vet said he will not make any more projections, we’ll just keep her as healthy as possible as long as possible, until it doesn’t make sense to do so anymore.  We’re still far from that point, thankfully.

Honestly, it’s been so long since her diagnosis and things have gone so well that aside from the literally one extra minute a day it takes me to measure and drop her medicine in her food, it’s easy to forget she’s even sick.  Every once in awhile I remind myself that at some point soon there will be a bad day, followed by a bad report at a vet appointment and soon thereafter a decision and then a very bad day, but I haven’t dwelled on it too much, instead enjoying every good day.

And as for Leela, things are still great!  She did have a bad day a couple of weeks ago, so she went to the vet, got rehydrated and anti-nausea meds, and then full bloodwork.  Her bloodwork looked great.  This was not the first time she had a “queasy day”, happens once every six months or so for the last several years (and why I didn’t at first jump on taking her to the vet on the first skipped meal back in the spring).  But the vet has no worries about her right now, just to keep an eye on her.  She’s been eating and drinking and normal every say since that day.  She’ll be 17 in April, and hopefully around for a long time after.

.

Fry and Pemily... are absolutely fine.  No worries about them, though Fry is 12 going on 13 now.

Aside from them, I have literally not done a damn thing for months.  Been awhile since we played D&D in person, since like... November? I didn’t go anywhere for Christmas / New Years.  Was supposed to go to my Brother’s and see the family but I didn’t because of Patchy and Omicron.  Cancelled going to the MST3k Time Bubble Tour.  Video games, work, TV, online TTRPG... that’s my entire life.

#personal post tag thingy #my pets

[uwuwriting]

How would the Todorokis be with their s/o?? Like Natsuo, Fuyumi, Shouto and Touya/Dabi??

I really believe that there should be a spin off called ‘Keeping up with the Todorokis’ where each one of them brings home their s/o and shit hits the fan. I love this prompt and I love ya. 💖💖💖

P.S It’s 4 am and I can’t sleep so please excuse any typos or grammatical mistakes. I’m in a daze. Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natsuo Todoroki 

-He met you at a convention.

-He was in his second year of university and he decided to attend one of those medical conventions, to feel more like a doctor.

-You bumped into him as you were entering the conference room and being as smooth as always, he asked you to sit with him.

-After that your friendship blossomed.

-You found out that you were actually in the same university but in different classes and that’s why you didn’t know each other.

-Being in the same campus helped a lot with the development of the relationship.

-It didn’t take long for him to fall head over heels in love with you. 

-He realized just how in love he was with you after a particular brutal confrontation with his father.

-He had been so angry and desperate for comfort that his body responded by itself and led him to your door.

-You of course helped him as best you could, making him some tea and quickly fixing him up with something to eat.

-You could see his anger as it radiated off of him.

-Also the temperature dropped so...yeah.

-You didn’t push him to talk, opting to stay silent and allow him to talk when he felt like it. 

-And it worked.

-He opened up to you, letting everything go.

-About his past, about Touya, about his father and eventually how much he wants to just hold but is afraid that he’ll just be like him inn the end. 

-He is terrified at the possibility of him hurting you like his father did his mother and making you miserable. 

-He told you that he truly loved you.

-You were in tears at that point.

-His past accompanied by his confession was just too much for you to handle.

-You jumped into his arms, wrapping him into one of the tightest hugs he had ever experienced and you just sobbed. 

-You said you loved him too and that he was one of the loveliest and sweetest people you had ever met, he could never be like his father.

-Of course at some point he started crying as well and you two became two sobbing messes on the floor of your apartment. 

-Your relationship was like a fever dream. 

-Natsuo is a fun guy but he’s also one of the most crackheaded people on this earth. 

-One minute you’re being smothered with kisses and the next you are being manhandled to the floor in an attempt to get the TV remote. 

-It’s...it’s a fever dream. 

-He likes showing his goofy self to you and making you question his intelligence. 

-I mean how could one person be an astounding medical student while challenging you that he could fit more marshmallows in his mouth than you?!

-He values his family even if it links with his father’s abuse. 

-So expect to meet Rei and Shouto after your one year anniversary or so.

-Fuyumi is the first family member you meet and that’s completely an accident.

-You were over at Natsuo’s and she came to drop off some food because he can’t cook for shit and she saw you.

-All the Todoroki’s adore you. 

-And when I say all I mean all.

-Even fireball man.

-He doesn’t really like you at the beginning because YoUr qUIrK iSn’T gOoD enOUgH, but later he warms up to you and is actually excited for your visits.

-Shouto claims that you make incredible soba so he automatically worships you.

-Lowkey had a mini crush on you but it lasted for like a week and then he got infatuated with his s/o so you were long forgotten.

-Rei loves you because Natsuo loves you and because you are literally a ray of sunshine. 

-Dabi....he takes his time because being in contact with his family after so many years is weird and seeing them slowly building their own families is even weirder, so you get the point. 

-All in all, they can’t wait until they get to call you an official Todoroki. 

Fuyumi Todoroki

-MY GIRL IS A LESBIAN.

-Change my mind....see you can’t. 

-She’s the shy one of the Todoroki group and it shows. 

-You have to do the first move and every move for that matter. 

-You two met when you were dropping off your nephew off at his school because you are a responsible AUNT!!

-You almost left without him tbh.

-You were being led to the class by him because you had lost every sense of direction.

-Once inside the class you were greeted with 17 pair of eyes on you which later changed to squeals of excitement. 

-Kids are weird okay... they get excited from the tiniest of changes and seeing a new face in the class had them ECSTATIC. 

-They asked you question after question and you were slowly suffocating by a particular kid having wrapped his arms around your middle and squeezing, until a soft voice was heard from behind you. 

- “Kids go to your seats please, and Daichi please let go of the lady.”

- “But she’s so pretty.”

-It took some time to get him off of you, mainly because you weren’t helping.

-You were to busy being in a daze as you looked at Fuyumi.

-She apologized about their behavior and asked if you were okay. 

-You, trying to be smooth, said you were fine and asked for her name. 

-She answered with a smile and you started talking until a cry was heard from inside the class and she had to leave. 

- “I hope to see you around, Todoroki-chan.” you said with a wink and left.

-She was blushing like crazy and barely mustered a ‘goodbye’ before hurrying into the classroom.

-After that you would regularly drop your nephew off only for a chance to see her again. 

-Finally, after many attempts, you mustered up the courage to ask her out and were taken aback by her excited squeal of approval. 

-Your relationship could be described as the definition of softness. 

-Fuyumi is a soft person and prefers tranquility over anything else, so that translates to a relationship argument free and just a ton of fluffy dates and cuddle sessions. 

-You’re relatively protective over her, especially after she shares her past with you, and become a literal watchdog every time Endeavor is in the proximity. 

-You click with Natsuo mainly because you have your crack moments and he can’t help but vibe with you.

-She’s super understanding and knows when work has been especially hard on you.

-She will make some tea and give you a massage, followed by a mini make out session and maybe some steamy times. 

-She introduces you to her mother only after you two have exchanged ‘I love you’s because that’s when she knows that you are serious with her.

-Rei A D O R E S you.

-She lights up when she sees you with Fuyumi. 

-Shouto is a little more closed off so you’ll have to try and get him to really like you. 

-With some help from Natsuo’s s/o you’ll be on his good side in no time. 

-Endeavor was from the first people to meet you mainly because you were visiting Fuyumi at their house frequently and he didn’t like you. 

-You two could become feral if Fuyumi didn’t intervene. 

-Eventually he warmed up to you.....because Fuyumi was marrying you so he didn’t really have a choice. 

-After he realized the importance of family he started having the mindset that if his children were happy he was happy.

-And you made Fuyumi happy.

-Still salty over your nonexistent/normal quirk though.

Shouto Todoroki

-You were in the same class.

-And he found you beautiful since day one.

-So it was kinda inevitable.

-Like come on, you were perfect to him.

-You were beautiful, smart, caring and super strong.

-He fell head over heels after he fought you at the sports festival. 

-He spoke to Midoriya about this weird feeling he was feeling in his chest and he diagnosed him with love.

-Okay, Shouto has no idea what to do.

-His perception of love was obliterated by his dad and his mom wasn’t in his reach for advice. 

-Fuyumi was an option but he didn’t really feel comfortable. 

-So what did he do?

-He googled it.

-He googled how to flirt and how to make a girl like you.

-And you can imagine the results. 

-Kaminari level flirting.

-Thankfully you found his attempts cute and finally comforted him about the whole flirting thing, asking him if he liked you. 

-He said yes, you know, bluntly and asked you out.

-Your relationship was awkward at first because he had no idea what he was doing and you didn’t want to overstep and make him uncomfortable. 

-After some time, and many kisses and reassuring later, he relax and let himself go.

-TOUCH STARVED BABY BOY!

-He’s clingy af and if he traps you in his arms, he won’t let go.

-You’re his now.

-End of story.

-You help him cope with his trauma and encourage him to reach out to his mom and siblings.

-You become his shoulder to cry on/ rant about his father and you are there for him for everything. 

-During the Nomu incident with his father, he was really shaken and that’s when he said ‘I love you’ for the first time. 

-You were in his dorm room, him having his head in his hands as his breaths became labored.

-You didn’t say anything, instead opted to massage his back and just envelope him in a loose hug.

-Everything he felt for his father, the hatred and the anger, had momentarily disappeared and had been replaced by dread for his safety. 

-He had destroyed his mother and their family, but he was still part of him. 

-Shouto stayed there, in your arms, and just contemplated about his feelings towards everyone, not just his father. 

-And that’s when he realizes that he loves you.

-And he just blurts it out. 

-You are taken aback to say the least, but you still return his sentiment. 

-He decides to introduce you to his family after that.

-First stop is Rei, who loves you.

-Seeing her Shouto looking at someone like that, with so much love in his eyes, is addicting and she couldn’t be happier. 

-Next stop, Fuyumi and Natsuo.

-You go out on a triple date and things are hectic. 

-Chaotic energy overload.

-But everything works out and the all of them end falling in love with you.

-Endeavor, tolerates you because of your quirk.

-Not that you care.

-Shouto keeps you away from him anyways. 

-A wholesome boyfriend.

-Husband material right here.

Dabi/Touya Todoroki

-Burn me you flaming ball of daddy issues.

-Friends with benefits. 

-That’s how it all started. 

-Just some fun nights, shared between two partners in crime before returning to murdering people.

-The thing is that, in order to make Dabi fall in love you have to do something crazy af.

-You two were on a mission to spy on Overhauls rookies, when someone spotted you.

-He was about to shoot one of those quirk erasing darts right on Dabi’s back when you pushed him out of the way, getting your quirk erased and hitting your head because of your unceremonious landing. 

-You have never seen one (1) Dabi roast 20+ people faster before. 

-Your whole body felt stiff and heavy, making even the slightest of movements a challenge. 

-Dabi was on his knees in no time, calling your name like a mad man and trying to keep you conscious. 

-He scooped you up in his arms, cold sweat running down his spine as he watched you fall in and out of consciousness.

-Even after you closed your eyes, you could here him faintly calling out to you, spewing nonsense just to stir a reaction.  

-Once at the hide out, he almost roundhoused Shigaraki’s ass because he got in his way, he rushed over to the new healer of their group. 

-After being told that you were going to make it, he disappeared for a week. 

-You woke up and he wasn’t there, which kinda hurt.

-Okay, you may or may not have feelings for him for some time now, but of course you won’t say anything..

-You will scare him off.

-Little did you know though that Dabi was getting himself wasted in an attempt to drown his feelings for you. 

-His plan failed and he decoded to confront you about it.

-Get it out of the way. 

-He came back and dragged you out of the hideout and aggressively confessed to you. 

-You two are now exclusive.

-Congrats!

-Things are really chill.

-He worries when you go on missions by yourself, especially after seeing you like hurt after that Overhaul mission.

-Cuddles with him are based on his mood.

-If he doesn’t really want to cuddle, he won’t .

-You can’t change that no matter what.

-You are the only one who knows about his backstory and his family.

-After being together for a long time you encourage him to reach out to his siblings or his mom.

-His dad is a no no from both of you.

-And eventually he actually does.

-He introduces you to them and they have to warm up to the both of you.

-Because having your until recently deceased brother introduce his s/o to you is kinda....overwhelming. 

-In the end, they are happy to have their brother back.

-And seeing so happy and trusting with another person, had them warm.

-Dabi deserves love.

-Poor baby suffers and he doesn’t deserve it.

#fuyumi x reader #fuyumi todoroki x reader #natsuo x reader #natsuo todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki x y/n #dabi my hero academia #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi #bnha

[hellpotter]

17 and 31 from the prompts list plz<3

this is not your fault, okay? i promise and i don’t deserve to be loved | percabeth

warnings: might contain triggers (mentions to war, death and ptsd)

Annabeth is still in that post-sex daze when Percy rolls to his side and curls up besides her, throwing one arm over her waist.

The feeling pulls her back to full consciousness and her body stiffens instantly with the realization that he’s probably almost half asleep. She straightens up quickly and notices his eyes widening and his body waking up with the movement.

“Hm, I-,” she mutters while searching for her underwear between the sheets. She realizes she has already used all of her good excuses for leaving him previously. It had been getting harder and harder to come up with a reasonable justification for her to go, and she accepts that today it is going to be ridiculous.

“Looking for this?” His voice is hoarse and low, and he holds her cotton panties between his fingers. When she tries to snatch them, though, he yanks them away from her reach.

Guess he isn’t as sleepy as she’d thought before.

“Percy,” she scowls. “That’s not funny.”

“No?,” he says, as he pulls her panties further when she tries to reach them one more time. “I disagree.”

“Please, stop it. I really should go, I... Uh, I-,” he raises his eyebrows when she mumbles, trying to figure out what to say next. “I have to work early tomorrow, I need to rest,” she makes up.

He sighs and hands her her underwear, but what he says next makes her paralyze.

“No, you don’t.”

“What?“

“Tomorrow’s Sunday, Annabeth. I know you’ve been making excuses not to sleep with me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, for instance, the fact that we never go back to your place after a date, and the one time we did, you basically kicked me out as soon as you could,” he leans on his elbow, lifting his upper body. “Or that you say things like ‘I need to work’ on a Saturday night, or that your mom has ‘come to visit’ at least 5 times in the past 3 weeks.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence and Annabeth tries to think of something decent to say, but she can’t. So Percy goes on, the dim light making it hard for her to read his expression.

“Look, I-,” he sighs and sits up, putting one hand on her thigh. “I know you don’t owe me anything and it’s okay if you don’t want to... stay the night. But we’ve been seeing each other for, what, more than a month now? I was really hoping we could move forward with this, but I can tell there’s something going on, so...” he clears his throat and trails off.

Annabeth takes a deep breath, considering how she’ll handle this. She’s not sure if she’s ready to tell him the truth.

“Percy, this is not your fault, okay? I promise.”

He nods and waits for her to say something else. She realizes that maybe the truth is her best way out of this now.

“Ok. Maybe we should talk,” she whispers, avoiding to look in his eyes.

She can tell he’s surprised when she gets up to put on her panties and then searches for the shirt he’d been wearing before, pulling it over her head.

“Can you make me some tea?” She asks.

“Okay.”

They stay in silence until the moment he hands her a cup of tea and sits in front of her by the kitchen table. He looks at her expectantly and she stares down at her tea, breathing in.

“So. Remember I told you about when I volunteered to serve in Afghanistan?”

“Yeah. I remember.”

“Well, I-,” she finally looks up and finds his concerned eyes. “I have been diagnosed with PTSD. It’s, um, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

He reaches out and takes her hand on the table. “Oh. Yeah, I... I know what it is.”

She nods. “So, I-,” Annabeth’s not sure why, but she suddenly feels like sharing the whole story with him. “I didn’t really want to go. I mean, it wasn’t exactly my idea. I, um, I had this girlfriend. Reyna.”

She stops talking and takes his expression in. She hadn’t told him about her sexuality before, and she wasn’t sure how he would take it. She notices his eyebrows raise slightly for a second, but he doesn’t say anything, and his eyes hold the same concern. So she continues.

“Reyna and I went to college together and we, um, we were good together and she understood me like anyone else. But she was, like, a natural warrior. Really, I know it sounds stupid, but she was. It wasn’t really a surprise when she volunteered right after we graduated, not at all. I’m not the greatest supporter of American military action, so what really surprised me was when I started to consider going with her. I was so terrified of being alone and of losing her that the idea of going started to feel better than staying. And I could use the money, so it sounded like a win-win.”

She pauses and takes a sip from her tea. She hadn’t talked about this with anyone, except for her therapist, and it was a lot for her.

“Do you regret it?” Percy asks softly. “Going, I mean.”

“I-,” she wasn’t expecting that. “I don’t, actually. But I wouldn’t go back or do something like that again.”

He nods and caresses her hand with his thumb, and they enjoy the silence for a while.

“Anyway. So we went, together. And it was fine, most of the time. We had a lot of quiet days and we got to spend a lot of time together and we met some incredible people. But the bad days... They were really bad,” memories start flashing through her head and she notices there are tears coming down her face when Percy reaches out to wipe them away with his thumb. “So there was this one day. We had a huge fight, me and Reyna. Our time there was ending and she wanted to stay for another year. And I didn’t, I just wanted to come back and start building our life together. A normal life, without guns and tanks and bombs and training.”

The tears are rolling down her eyes uncontrollably now, but she can’t control herself.

“She had to leave before we could even end the discussion. And there was- There was a, um... There was a bombing a few hours later,” she stops and stares at the wall, trying to even her breathe. “And she... I couldn’t even say goodbye.”

Percy gets up and knees down besides her, holding her close while she shakes violently.

“Hey... It’s okay,” he whispers carefully. “You don’t have to say anything else. I’m sorry.”

She tries to remember her therapist words not to feel ashamed of crying, but it’s hard when she’s basically spilling her heart out to... Well, the guy she’s sleeping with, ‘cause she can’t even call him her boyfriend. Or can she? That’s probably something for them to talk about later.

“I’m sorry about that,” she whispers when she can breathe normally again.

“Don’t be,” Percy leans back just enough to look at her face and pulls some curls behind her ear. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

She answers him with half a smile and takes a deep breath. “After that I came back and... Well, I guess a part of me never did. I blamed myself for it, I felt like I should’ve done something to protect her, and a part of me still does,” he opens his mouth to say something but she goes on. “So most nights I have nightmares, and I wake up screaming or- Well, I can get aggressive sometimes. Or if it takes too long for someone to wake up in the morning I start wondering if maybe something happened to them and I... I lose my mind,” she looks at him, intensely. “It’s hard to... deal with it. For me and for... whomever is nearby. And when something bad happens I feel like... I feel like I don’t deserve to be loved.”

He holds her face in his hands and sustains her gaze. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. But I won’t let you believe that, okay? It’s not truth, and it’s not fair to yourself. This isn’t your fault, and it doesn’t make you less good or less worthy of love. You do know that, don’t you?”

Annabeth looks down for a moment, his gaze and his words too intense for her to absorb. Rationally, she’s known all of this for a while, and therapy had been helping her cope with all of these feelings well. But the way he looks at her makes her feel actually loved for the first time in years, and that’s a new feeling.

“Hey, listen to me,” he continues, softly. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. And I completely understand if you don’t feel comfortable sleeping with me. It’s your choice, and I’m here to support you nonetheless. Trust me, I can handle messed up and complicated and difficult. But I- I really like you, Annabeth Chase. And well, if you’re up to it, I hope I get to spend a lot of nights with you,” he drops a soft kiss of her lips. “And mornings,” another kiss on her cheeks. “And afternoons,” he whispers close to her ear before kissing the crook of her neck, making her giggle.

She pulls away softly to look at him, her eyes filled with appreciation. “Okay,” she mutters. “I guess I am up for it, after all.”

He kisses her slowly, and, in that moment, she knows she’s starting to fall in love with him. And it scares the hell out of her, but it also makes her heart feel so warm, she’s afraid it might burn.

She can’t tell exactly what it is that they’re starting there, but she knows it feels like something good. And she’s pretty sure they’re off to a good start.

#prompts list #pjo fic #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #mortal au #living with ptsd #post war trauma #mentioned reyna ramirez-arellano #previous reynabeth #this is way out of my comfort zone #like really idek where this came from #angst #i hope you like it #but idk