#seriously what the fuck past self what am i supposed to do with this

[neverendingford]

.

#tag talk #I feel so fucking great today. ironically I'm having trouble getting anything done because I keep just lying down to sigh contentedly #idk. I just feel so genuinely happy. #maybe it has something to do with the smell bout of random depression disappearing at least for now. no longer shitting out my guts either #and also I get to see the cute girl who also likes me back today so that's super pogchamp. #ugh do y'all have any idea how absolutely down bad I am for her??? like. seriously. #I know this won't be a long term thing but damn if I'm not gonna appreciate it for the two years I'm still living in this city. #like. I knew things would get better eventually. I was seventeen and telling myself things would one day be better #sure it's taken eight years but like... fuckin hell I'm self actualizing for real now. #mood stabilizers. adhd meds. hrt. I'm finally able to address the problems I've been battling my whole life. #and moving out from my parents has given me the freedom to figure shit out apart from the situation that's been fucking me up all my life #I just. fucking hell this is so nice. #YOOO I HAVE JIGGLY CALF MUSCLES AGAIN HELL YEAH #I've been a little wasted away for the past year but I've started working out again since since got adhd meds and damn #I don't like being so awfully skinny so it's nice to have curves and slight jiggles on my body again #calf muscles my beloved #I'm learning to love my arm muscles but I've always loved my leg muscles. partially I think cause leg muscles are associated with feminine #whereas arm muscles are culturally seen as masculine. so that kind of got embedded in my brain growing up. but I'm learning to love both #I also just love my body working like it's supposed to. the joy of a well oiled machine doing what it should. #ofc it's not always consistent. but it's nice when it's working as it should #also I bought a wireless charger for my phone since the charging port got even more fucked up and now barely works at all #so honestly that lifted a pretty big stressor off my mind since phone dying is a huge problem and a new phone is expensive #so I'm feeling more carefree with that at least temporarily fixed. won't have to worry about my phone again for prolly at least another year

[alwaysmicado]

Sink or swim

12.3k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 8

WARNINGS: 18+, no outbreak AU, implied age gap, emotional hurt/comfort, flashbacks (toxic relationship, bad mental health), mention of miscarriage & surgery, smut (nothing too graphic), Tommy Miller x f!reader SUMMARY: You reminisce about the late-night conversation that changed your life forever. Joel shares a secret. A/N: Guys, it’s finally here!! This part was hard for me to write, but I’m beyond happy with how it turned out. We learn so much about reader’s past and her relationship with Tommy, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to share it with you. Have fun reading (even though it’s a bit sad) and please let me know what you think! I wanna know all your thoughts!! 🤍 Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics.

series masterlist | main masterlist

The ocean stretches before you like a vast expanse of liquid silk, its rhythmic waves kissing the shore with a gentle insistence. The sun, now in its descent towards the horizon, casts a warm glow, painting the water and sand in hues of amber and gold.

You’re perched on a weathered bench, sneakers softly tapping against the sand, lost in thought as you watch the waves roll in.

Dressed in yoga shorts and an oversized t-shirt, with an ice cream cone in hand and sunglasses shielding your eyes from the brilliant rays of the setting sun, you blend seamlessly into the serene scene before you.

You appear inconspicuous, just another person soaking up the sun and breathing in the fresh air. No one can see the anguish gnawing at your heart, the tumult in your head, or the pain in your hand that makes you want to scream.

No, no, you look far too calm for that, too composed, too happy.

Besides, what would someone like you possibly have to feel bad about? Seriously. You just love to wallow in your own sadness, don’t you? You haven’t changed at all. You’re still your insecure, annoying, unlovable self. God, even your inner voice is irritating. Do you hear how pathetic you sound? Of course he wouldn’t lov–

Shut up. 

You focus on the waves as they dance and sway, their melodic rhythm a soothing balm to the cruel thoughts echoing relentlessly in your mind.

The ocean’s song, a symphony of calming whispers and gentle sighs you’ve loved ever since you were a little girl, envelops you in its embrace, drawing you deeper into a state of quiet reflection. The cool breeze dancing through the air brushes against your sun-kissed skin, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean and the promise of new beginnings. 

With a gentle tilt of your head, you take another lick of the strawberry soft serve you bought at the ice cream stand near the boardwalk, feeling the familiar comfort of the cool creaminess dance across your taste buds. It’s been a few months since you last indulged in this particular treat, sharing it with Joel after a rough day at work.

As the cold sweetness melts on your tongue, bittersweet memories of that afternoon flood back with vivid clarity. You can almost hear Joel’s infectious laughter as you scarfed down the icy treat a little too eagerly, his eyes crinkling with amusement at your inevitable brain freeze. But it wasn’t just the shared laughter and playful banter that made this memory so special. 

It was Joel’s genuine interest in hearing about your day, about you, his calming presence grounding you and making you momentarily forget all your troubles. He provided you with a warmth that seeped into your bones, a connection that felt effortless yet profound. Like it could be more.

Reflecting on it now, perhaps that should have been a hint that things were more serious than you wanted to admit right from the beginning. Oh well, dwelling on it is futile now. Because you did finally admit it, didn’t you? And not only that, you basically shouted your feelings from the rooftops last night, laying your soul bare.

Fucking embarrassing.

How are you supposed to come back from that? How are you supposed to ever look into Joel’s eyes again? 

There’s a reason why you stopped psychotherapy after a few months, there’s a reason why you don’t have any close friends beside Tommy, there’s a reason why your dating life has consisted of a series of superficial hookups over the past couple of years.

“Fear of intimacy,” your therapist called it. “A response to sustained trauma.”

You walked out of that session and, fueled by defiance, decided to fuck the first guy who caught your eye, just to prove to yourself, and to your therapist, that you were very well capable of intimacy.

Lying in bed that night, lonely and empty, you couldn’t shake the truth of her words. You hated her guts for forcing you to confront your inner demons, but she did have a point in everything she said.

It’s an uncomfortable truth.

There’s nothing in the world you fear more than people knowing what’s going on inside your head, knowing what you feel, knowing your vulnerabilities and weaknesses—knowing the real you.

And last night, that fear came true.

Your innermost thoughts and feelings were on display for Joel to see, leaving you exposed and raw. The memory of your outburst, of his shocked face, weighs heavily on your mind and heart, filling you with a deep sense of shame and regret.

For a moment in that bathroom, you felt yourself transported back to all the times you’d scream at Simon for whatever he did to fuck with your feelings that day, just for him to laugh in your face or call you manipulative when you’d inevitably start crying tears of hurt and frustration. 

Does Joel see you differently now, knowing the depths of your insecurities? Will he even want to look you in the eye after witnessing what the real you is like? Have you lost your chance with him, and, did you ever even have one?

You sigh deeply and lick around the top of the ice cream cone to catch the drops threatening to run down, humming at the deliciousness.

You haven’t eaten anything else today, too nauseous from your meds and the knot in the pit of your stomach to find food appetizing. You haven’t slept for more than two consecutive hours, too agitated to find any real peace. You also couldn’t stay home this morning, as your apartment suddenly felt like a cage threatening to suffocate you.

Instead, you’ve spent your day off window shopping, aimlessly wandering from one coffee shop to another, your hands now jittery from too much caffeine on an empty stomach. You’ve ambled down the boardwalk, taking in the sights and sounds surrounding you, before finding yourself drawn to the familiar comfort of the ocean.

From the corner of your eye, you catch the display on your phone lighting up with Joel’s name, the device resting on the bench beside you alongside your bag.

You know you’ll have to take his calls and talk to him like an adult at some point. And you will. But this moment, this moment right here, belongs to you and your thoughts alone.

And to the hermit crab making its way through the sand just a few feet away from you. Your lips curl into a smile as you watch the determined little creature, impressed by its resilience in such an unforgiving world. Maybe you would’ve been happier if you’d been born as a hermit crab. Who knows.

As you swallow the last bit of your cone and lean back, feeling the sun’s gentle warmth on your skin, you can’t help but think of the first time you found yourself on this bench, watching the sunset. It feels like that was an entire lifetime ago, and yet, you vividly remember the overwhelming exhaustion that weighed you down, the sense of loneliness that engulfed you—how utterly lost you felt.

You allow your thoughts to drift, captivated by the soothing cadence of the waves lapping against the shore.

Three years earlier

The sun is down.

Staring into the void, you’re consumed by solitude, the cool breeze coming from the water a thin barrier against the weight pressing on your shoulders. The world seems distant, the murmur of the ocean a mere backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your troubled mind and the beat of your empty heart.

This is it. This is where you were always supposed to be.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, quietly drifting through the corners of your memory. With each passing moment, you meticulously comb through the fragments of the past few months. They offer no solace, only a stark reminder of how you reached this point.

In the stillness of the evening, you find a strange sense of calm, a numbness that dulls the edges of your emotions. Tears refuse to come, leaving only the echo of relief at the resolution of it all.

You open your eyes again, fixating on the endless mirror of the sky before you. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart. The salty tang in the air, the rhythmic melody of the waves, the laughter of birds mingling with the gentle lull of the breeze—everything.

You dig your naked toes into the sand, relishing the connection to the earth beneath you. The sensation is grounding, peaceful, almost–

“Hey there, sweetheart. Is everything okay?”

A man’s voice, rugged yet gentle, breaks through the silence, interrupting your thoughts. His words dance in the air, pulling you reluctantly back to the present.

Are you kidding me?

With a slow and deliberate movement, you lift your gaze from the horizon, meeting the eyes of the stranger who has disrupted the sanctuary of your thoughts. You rest your elbows on your knees and sigh deeply.

“Oh my fucking god,” you murmur, rubbing your temples in annoyance and disbelief. “The sun’s been down for two minutes, and the first creep’s already here.”

“Wha–” 

You look up at him. “Do you have like a radar or something where you get a notification every time a woman sits alone on a bench somewhere?”

The dark-haired man blinks in surprise, his expression caught between confusion and amusement. His brow furrows, his mouth slightly agape as he processes your words. After a moment of absorbing your outlandish accusation, his lips curve into a wry smile.

“Darlin’, I’m just–”

“Look, dude. If you’re here to murder me, could you at least spare me the whole blah blah you’ve got planned and just do it? Thank you.”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s not entirely sure if you’re joking, but your sarcastic tone tells him you’re at least not scared of him.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I assure you I got no such plans. Just thought I’d check in on a fellow soul contemplating the mysteries of the universe.”

You roll your eyes, unimpressed by his attempt at humor. “Yeah, well, I prefer to contemplate in peace.”

When he doesn’t budge and just…stares at you with those big, dark eyes of his, you take a moment to size him up. 

Your gaze drifts down from his eyes, tracing the contours of his muscular chest visible beneath a fitted white t-shirt. It lingers briefly on the obnoxiously large belt buckle adorning his waist, then travels down the length of his denim-clad legs to his cowboy boots. Despite the surreal encounter, you can’t help but notice how incredibly attractive he is. 

God, what’s wrong with you?

“Look, sweetheart,” he says calmly, his voice a blend of warmth and reassurance. “I’m not trying to get into your business or anything, but it’s gonna get pretty chilly out here soon.” He tilts his head and studies your face. “Do you have somewhere to stay?” he asks. “We could go grab a bite to eat if you want, and my place is right arou–”

“How subtle,” you scoff, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I’m not going home with you, dude.”

“Fair enough, but at least let me call you a cab and wait with you until it arrives, hm?”

His soft voice and patronizing tone are starting to grate on your already frayed nerves. You’ve been sitting here, not taking up any space, minding your own fucking business, and even that wasn’t good enough, apparently.

Okay, world. Hint taken. 

“What the hell is your problem?” you blurt out. 

“What do you mean? I’m just–I’m trying to help you.”

“Why?” The question bursts from your lips like a dam breaking under pressure, laced with frustration. “Do you see me holding up a sign where I’m asking for your help? Huh? Or is this more about you and some, I dunno, bullshit white knight fantasy you’re acting out?” 

Your eyes narrow, fixing on him with a challenging glare, daring him to justify his intrusion into your solitude.

“No,” he responds calmly, his furrowed brow adding gravity to his words. “It’s because I’ve seen enough shit in my life to recognize when someone’s in need.”

The sincerity in his gaze catches you off guard, rendering you momentarily speechless. It’s as if this…stranger is peering into the depths of your soul, seeing past the walls you’ve erected to protect yourself. 

His face softens, the lines around his eyes relaxing as he meets yours. “Mind if I take a seat?”

You shrug indifferently, though a flicker of curiosity dances behind your eyes. “Suit yourself.”

He smiles warmly as he settles beside you. “I’m Tommy, by the way,” he offers, extending a hand. You hesitate for a moment, but eventually, you decide to reciprocate by telling him your name and shaking his hand with a soft sigh.

As his hand envelops yours, there’s a brief surge of something unspoken deep inside you, a connection allowing two disparate souls to briefly intertwine before returning to their separate paths again as soon as he lets go.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, darlin’,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, his mustache curling slightly as he smiles at you.

The faint scent of his cologne drifts towards you, mixing with the salty aroma of the sea air. As you gaze at him, your eyes trace the lines etched around his eyes and mouth, evidence of a life fully lived. Strangely, there’s something comforting about his presence, something that makes you feel a little less alone. 

You give him a subtle smile before turning your head back towards the ocean, mesmerized by the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy watches you silently, noticing the vacant look in your eyes and the way your gaze seems to be fixed on some distant point beyond the horizon. He furrows his brow slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his features as he contemplates how lost you appear in that moment.

“What are you doing out here, sweetheart?” Tommy’s voice breaks the silence, his tone casual yet curious, as if striking up conversations with strange women on the beach is a regular occurrence for him.

Well, it probably is, you think to yourself.

“I, uh, wanted to watch the sunset,” you answer softly.

“Hm. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Should’ve been here and seen it too instead of wasting my time at that damn bar.”

“Oh? How did you waste your time? Can’t have been that bad, judging by the lipstick stains on your face,” you murmur.

“What? Where?” Tommy blurts out, his eyes widening in surprise as he hastily rubs at his lips and cheeks, searching for any traces of lipstick on his fingers.

You stifle a laugh. “I’m just fucking with you,” you deadpan, shooting him a quick glance. 

He stares at you in mock offense for a moment before his lips curl into a wide grin. “Touché,” he says, thoroughly entertained by your dry humor. “But yeah, things didn’t go the way I would’ve liked them to.” 

“What, she didn’t wanna go home with you either?”

“Very funny. But no, things were going well.” He sighs dramatically and rubs his forehead. “But then her husband showed up and kinda threw a giant monkey wrench into our plans.” 

“Wow, tough break,” you scoff, shaking your head in mock sympathy, “not getting to fuck a married woman. I hate it when that happens.”

Tommy chuckles. “Alright, alright, I didn’t know she was married, for the record. She wasn’t wearing a ring or anything.”

“Sure,” you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you cast a skeptical glance in his direction.

“What are you up to, then, darlin’? Hm?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Besides not making out with married women?” You hear Tommy’s laugh beside you and wiggle your toes in the sand. “Just enjoying the ocean, I guess. I’ve missed it.” 

“You’re not from here?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m not.”

“Hm. You’re gonna love it. There’s lots of cool things to see and do, especially for young people like you.”

You furrow your brow. “Why are you talking like you’re ninety years old and I’m your estranged grandkid?”

“I dunno,” he sighs, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess…turning forty did something to me.”

“Married women apparently still throw themselves at you. You’re gonna be fine.”

He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that seems to echo across the beach. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, punctuated by the gentle sound of the ocean and the occasional cry of seagulls wheeling overhead. 

“What brings you here, then?” Tommy asks, observing your profile. You look tired.

“I told you, watching the sunset.” 

“No, I mean what brings you into town? Vacation or family or something?”

You turn to look at him, tilting your head slightly as you study his expression. “Why do you care?”

“Just making conversation,” he says with a smile, a glint of genuine curiosity shining in his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me. We can talk about something else if you want.”

“Like what?”

“Like did you know it’s illegal to own just one guinea pig in Switzerland?”

Your bewildered look amuses him. 

“It’s true. You’re required, by law, to get your guinea pig a little guinea pig friend. They won’t sell you just one. Isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever heard?”

You stare at him, shaking your head slowly. “What kind of women do you pull if this is how you flirt?”

Tommy raises an eyebrow. “Who says I’m flirting?”

“Uh-huh,” you say with a smirk, then turn your head back towards the water. “But what if they want to be alone?”

“Hm?”

“What if you get a guinea pig in Switzerland and you have to buy a second one to keep it company but the first guinea pig actually just wants to be alone on a bench and then some other guinea pig with a mustache shows up and asks weird questions? What then?”

“Well,” Tommy starts, happy that you’re seemingly warming up a bit. “I think the first guinea pig would quickly realize that the other, dashingly handsome guinea pig isn’t that bad and just wants to be friends. And then they’d be friends and run around together and eat hay or whatever.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, and you know, I think us humans aren’t that different from them. I don’t think we’re meant to be alone either.”

You look at him. “Is that why you came to talk to me? Because you don’t want me to be alone?”

“Would that be so bad?”

“I guess not,” you murmur softly, your gaze drifting to the patch of dry skin on the back of your right hand. “And I’m, uh, not here for any special reason. I just…needed a break from home, I suppose.”

“And you have a place to stay, darlin’?” Tommy’s voice carries a gentle concern as he leans slightly closer, trying to see your eyes. 

“Yeah, I booked a hotel room a few minutes from here,” you lie smoothly. “With sea-view and everything. Just haven’t checked in yet.”

“Where did you put all your stuff?” 

“My stuff?”

“Yeah, your clothes and teddy bears and whatnot.” 

You nudge the backpack sitting on the ground next to you with your naked foot. “This is my stuff.”

“Oh.” You must have really wanted to get away if you traveled this lightly, Tommy contemplates silently.

He used to do the same, packing a bag and escaping, seeking solace in the open road. But he learned the hard way that you can’t outrun your problems. They always find a way to catch up with you, no matter how far you go.

He gives you a sympathetic smile. “Have you had dinner already?”

“I had a bagel at the airport this morning,” you say nonchalantly.

Tommy’s brows furrow slightly, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Yup.” If you had even the slightest bit of energy left inside of you, you’d find his shocked face amusing.

“Okay, that’s just unacceptable. Wait.” He retrieves his phone from his pocket and opens a food delivery app. “What kind of pizza do you want?”

You shake your head. “I don’t want pi–”

“Yes, you do. I’m not gonna have you starving on my watch.”

You raise an eyebrow. “On your watch?” 

“Yeah, on my watch. Now, what kind of topping–”

“Pineapple.”

“Excuse me?”

“Pine. Apple.”

“Oh, but I’m the weirdo,” he mutters, shaking his head and giving you the side-eye as he reluctantly adds pineapple as a topping to your pizza. “Anything else? Anchovies? Corn? My tears?”

“Jesus, don’t have a heart attack. Are you Italian or something?”

“No, just not a complete monster.”

You can’t help but chuckle, your smile lighting up your face for the first time in what feels like ages. Tommy’s eyes linger on you a moment too long, captivated by your sudden radiance, before he tears his gaze away as your smile fades once more.

Clearing his throat, he shifts his attention back to his task, fingers tapping away as he types the description of your location for the delivery.

“Should arrive in twenty minutes, the app says.” 

You nod and lean back, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you watch the waves again. 

“When did you decide to fly out here?”

“Last night.” 

“How? Why?”

“Simple. I took out a map, closed my eyes, and this is where my finger landed. And as for the why…well, home just didn’t feel like home anymore, you know?”

“Hm. I know that feeling.”

You turn your head and look into his warm eyes. “You do?”

“Oh yeah. It took me almost a decade after retiring from active duty to feel home again, or like I was safe, or like I belonged. It’s, uh, not easy to get that feeling back once you’ve lost it. I’m sorry you’re going through that,” Tommy says with a somber tone. He really is sorry. 

You look at him for a moment and give him a tired smile. “It’s okay,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “It wasn’t home to begin with. Not really.”

“Whatever your reasons are, you’re brave for leaving.”

You scoff. “Yeah, sure, I’m brave for running away.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Look, it’s okay. You don’t need to try and make me feel better ‘cause I’m not sad. But I’m also not gonna act like I’m not a coward who accepted far too much shit for far too long ‘cause I’m very much not brave.”

You sigh deeply. “I should’ve gotten the fuck out of that miserable town and relationship years ago. But now it’s too late.” 

Tommy furrows his brow and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

“Are you married?”

“No, darlin’, I’m not married.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No girlfriend.” 

“So there’s no one special in your life right now?”

“Nothing serious, no. No attachments for me.”

“Hm. No attachments,” you murmur. “That sounds nice.” 

Tommy nods. “It is, most of the time at least. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss being in love.” 

“You’ve been in love before?” You tilt your head and look at him with genuine curiosity. 

“A few times, yeah.”

“And the women you were with…they loved you?”

“Yeah, they did.” The soft smile lighting up his face tells you he has pleasant memories of his former partners. How nice that must be. 

“Do you ever wonder why it didn’t work out?”

Tommy’s expression turns introspective, his gaze drifting towards the horizon as if searching for answers in the distant waves.

“I have,” he admits after a pause, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. “But I guess that’s just how life goes sometimes. People drift apart, circumstances change, life changes...”

“Do you think it’s possible to hate someone you love?”

Your question catches him off guard, and the look in your eyes concerns him. “Well,” he says calmly, carefully choosing his words, “I can’t say I’ve ever had that experience, but I could imagine that’s how my brother felt about me back when I was spiraling and he had to watch me make bad decision after bad decision. He loved me, I know he always has, but he also hated me for what I was doing.” 

“Sounds like a good brother,” you say, mustering a smile. 

“He really is. Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, but I don’t talk to them,” you say, your tone betraying a hint of sadness before you quickly mask it with indifference. “My, uh…best friend was like my sister though.”

“Was?”

“Yeah, you know,” you murmur, the smile on your lips not matching the bitterness in your tone, “that friendship kinda ended after I saw her sitting on my boyfriend’s lap, shoving her tongue down his throat.”

“What the hell? When was that?” 

“Hmm, about a month ago. And you wanna know the real kicker? They’ve been fucking for like half a year. My best friend and my boyfriend. Laughing their asses off behind my back. Hilarious, isn’t it?”

“I’m so sorry, darlin’. They’re shitty people for doing that to you. You didn’t deserve any–”

“How do you know that?”

“Know what?”

“How do you know that I didn’t deserve it? You don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me.”

“I may not know you,” Tommy says gently, “but I know that no one deserves to be treated like that, especially by the people they trust. It’s hard sometimes to see things objectively because we’re our own worst enemies, but I’m telling you, you didn’t deserve that.” 

“I’m not sure that’s true.” 

“What makes you say that?”

You look into his eyes, and the pain he can see in yours breaks his heart.

“Because, I fucking loved it. Everything he did to me, all these years. I loved it. I could’ve left him after he cheated on me for the first time, the second time, the hundredth time, but no. I loved how he came crawling back to me time and time again, promising me the world, telling me he only loved me.”

You pull away, hands resting on his chest as you try to find your words. Simon’s intense gaze has your mind swirling with conflicting emotions, and your heart pounding in your chest. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, your body trembling as he presses you against the wall with his body. “You–you say you’ll change, you say you’ll never do it again, you say you regret hurting me. And I forgive you. Every time. But nothing ever changes. You do it again and again, not caring how much you hurt me.” He places a hand on the wall next to your head, pushing your shirt up around your waist with the other, his touch on your naked skin sending a shiver down your spine. He looks down at you with a hint of amusement, a devious smirk appearing on his face as he searches your pleading eyes. “I’m serious, Simon,” you insist, unsuccessfully trying to convince yourself of what you’re saying. “I’m done.” Leaning in, he traces your neck with his nose, your heavy breathing and the way your tits press against his chest making his cock twitch in his jeans. “Is that so?” he murmurs against your skin before softly sucking and kissing on your flesh. “Why are you doing this?” you breathe, instinctively wrapping your arms around him, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you draw him closer. His leg between yours presses against your core, and you can’t help but whimper desperately at the feeling. “I love you,” he whispers, his warm breath gently caressing the curve of your ear, his words piercing your heart like a poisonous dart. “No, you don’t,” you murmur, your voice heavy with sadness, your eyes betraying the turmoil raging within you. Despite the ache in your heart, a part of you still yearns for the comfort of his touch, the familiarity of his presence, the illusion of affection he gives you. You need him, need to feel him, need him to love you—even if it kills you. In this moment of vulnerability, you surrender to the torrent of emotions flooding your senses, pressing your lips against his in a desperate attempt to drown out the pain, to silence the screams that plague your mind—eagerly drinking his poison straight from the source. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull him closer, offering yourself up to him with each rough tug, fervent kiss, and harsh bite to his lips. He matches your energy, gripping the back of your neck with a bruising hold as he hastily opens his jeans to free his cock. “I hate you,” you choke out, the words laced with bitterness and the raw intensity of your need for him as your heart races and your vision blurs. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself, baby,” Simon murmurs with a smirk, his words a cruel reminder of the tangled web of emotions that binds you to him, even as you struggle to break free. With a deft movement, he pulls aside your panties, sliding his hard cock through your wet folds as he holds your leg up around his waist. “Oh fuck,” you moan as he pushes inside you in one harsh thrust, your fingernails reflexively digging into his scalp. Overwhelming pleasure mingles with the anguish of your body betraying you, even as your mind screams in protest. Your walls clench around Simon with fierce intensity, his repeated thrusts against your G-spot having you close to orgasm within a minute. “Tell me, baby,” he pants, his eyes gleaming with triumph and satisfaction as he watches in real time how his poison travels through your entire body, your mind, intoxicating your very being with his essence. “Tell me how much you hate me while you come on my cock.”

You tilt your head and give Tommy a tired smile. “Isn’t that the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard?” 

“No, sweetheart, you’re not pathetic for wanting to be loved. You’re human and our feelings can be…complicated, irrational, dangerous. But you got yourself away from a toxic situation despite your feelings and that takes a lot of strength.”

“Hm.” You draw shapes into the sand with your toes, your heart heavy in your chest.

“Is he…why you left? You had to get away from him?”

“Surprisingly, no,” you say pensively, lost in thought as you fold one leg beneath you on the bench. “Things weren’t that bad after I decided not to care anymore. You know you can just wake up one day and realize it hurts a lot less to just not care about anything? Amazing. So yeah, that’s what I did.” You shrug and rub your left thumb with your right one.

“Of course, he didn’t like that at all, not being able to emotionally drain me anymore. He even told me I was depressed or some shit, acting like he cared, when all he actually missed was me giving him the reactions he wanted,” you scoff, bitterness dripping from your lips. “Coincidentally, that’s when he and my best friend started fucking.”

“I’m so sorry, darlin’, that’s beyond fucked up. Do you, uh, have someone to talk to about all this?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You mean apart from handsome cowboys in too-tight jeans late at night?”

“Did you just call me handsome?”

“Don’t think so,” you give him a playful smile, then turn your head to watch the waves doing their mesmerizing dance. Despite the light-hearted banter, a hint of sadness flickers across your face. “But no, I don’t have anyone left.”

Tommy’s expression softens, his eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and concern as he listens to your words. He reaches out, but catches himself before his hand comes to rest on your shoulder.

“Why did you leave?” he asks gently.

“I saw her.”

“Who?”

“Laura. My best friend,” you say, shuddering at her name. “I came out of the hospital yesterday, stood at a red light, and then I saw her. Looking right at me from the other side of the street. We hadn’t talked since before I almost died a month ago, ‘cause she never bothered to answer any of my calls or texts…and there she was. Daring to look at me with those fake-ass tears in her eyes like she isn’t a fucking sociopath.”

“What did you do?”

“I just…looked at her, knowing I could never see her again. I walked away, went to mine and Simon’s apartment, grabbed a few things, and went to the airport.”

“And now you’re here.”

“And now I’m here.”

The weight of your experience hangs heavy in the air, casting a somber shadow over the conversation. Tommy nods thoughtfully as he absorbs your words, until he suddenly shakes his head, chastising himself for his own stupidity.

“Okay wait, I’m sorry, but did you just say you almost died? What the hell happened?”

“Oh,” you scoff, a wide smile spreading across your face, its brightness contrasting sharply with the dullness in your eyes, “it’s nothing. One of my fallopian tubes burst ‘cause my dumbass gynecologist failed to diagnose an ectopic pregnancy, so I was hemorrhaging and had to have emergency surgery to get it removed.”

Tommy’s reaction is visceral: his eyes widen in shock, and his mouth falls open slightly, a silent gasp escaping him as the gravity of your words, spoken with horrifying casualness, hits him like a punch to the gut.

“Jesus Christ, darlin’...”

“But hey, the doctor said I’m completely fine at the check-up yesterday, so I guess that’s what I am.” You shrug and smile at him, but your attempt to lighten the mood falls flat.

“Darlin’, I’m so sor–”

“Don’t, please. It’s okay,” you interrupt softly, shaking your head. “My ex told me to have an abortion when I told him I was pregnant, and I wouldn’t have been a good mom anyway, so it’s best for the baby that it wasn’t born into the shitshow that is my life.”

“Dar–”

“I swear to God, Tommy, if you say ‘darlin’’ in that stupid, sexy accent of yours one more time,” you cut him off with a playful glare. 

He smiles at you, though worry lingers in his eyes and tugs at his heart.

“I’ve always wanted to live near the ocean,” you muse, welcoming the breeze cooling your hot face down. “It’s kind of poetic that my journey ends here.”

“It really is beautiful here, I’m sure you’d love livi–” Tommy starts, but you’re not hearing him.

“You know, I have this recurring dream where I drown, but instead of feeling panicked or scared I just feel peaceful, light. Like the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders. I don’t thrash or struggle, I just…let the water take me under and I can finally breathe.”

Concern flashes in Tommy’s eyes, but he quickly masks it with a calm expression, not wanting to alarm you.

“That sounds intense,” he responds gently, choosing his words carefully. “Dreams can be strange sometimes, but that one sounds like it’s trying to tell you something. Maybe it’s your mind’s way of processing all the heavy things that’ve been weighing on you."

He shifts slightly closer to you, his tone soft and reassuring. “But you know, maybe it’s worth exploring with a therapist or someone who can help you unpack it. Sometimes talking about these things can bring some clarity and relief.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you say absentmindedly. 

“Darlin’, please look at me,” Tommy’s voice breaks through the haze of your thoughts, his gaze penetrating through the fog of your mind. If you had any tears left to cry, the sincerity in his eyes would surely coax them out right about now. 

“About what you said earlier…you–you don’t deserve people treating you badly, or any of the bad things that happen to you. You never did, you hear me? You were supposed to be loved, protected and cared for, but you weren’t, and that’s not fair, and most certainly not your fault.”

You tilt your head, studying his face intently. Why does he care? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? But hey, he’s trying to be nice, and it’s not like you’re ever going to see him again. So, you’re trying to be nice back. 

“Thanks,” you say softly, mustering a smile. “But enough about me and my dumpster fire of a life.” You shift in your seat, untucking your leg and stretching it out in front of you. 

“I’d rather hear about you and how you get your hair to be this healthy. I can never get mine to look that good. Do you think it’s because I just eat garbage, don’t drink enough water and don’t get enough sunlight?”

Tommy chuckles and nods understandingly, recognizing your attempt to shift gears, and decides to play along until you both hear the pizza guy calling for you.

Your insistence to pay for your own pizza and drink falls on deaf ears, so you begrudgingly accept Tommy’s invitation and thank him for ordering food. Surprisingly, you find yourself ravenously hungry after taking the first few bites of your pineapple pizza—that you originally only wanted to mess with Tommy. But even he has to admit it isn’t half bad after you make him eat a slice.

As you’re eating together and the night deepens around you, the street lamps along the boardwalk spending enough light, you ask Tommy about his life. 

He shares his journey of enlisting in the army as a teenager, grappling with PTSD upon his return, and navigating through troubled times. He tells you about the unwavering support of his brother and how therapy helped him cope with his demons. You delve deeper, asking him about his wishes for the future, about his hopes and dreams.

You enjoy hearing about his life, about his experiences that are so different from yours. It’s comforting to get lost in someone else’s story for a bit. It’s a refuge, a welcome escape from your own tiring existence. 

Pizzas devoured, you sit side by side, enveloped in the soothing melody of the ocean’s whispers. Time seems to lose its grip as you share both laughter and quiet, the minutes and hours slipping away unnoticed like grains of sand carried by the tide.

As tranquility settles between you, the world around you seemingly forgotten, a question gnaws at your insides, its weight palpable in the silence. It’s a question you’re reluctant to voice aloud, knowing it will rupture the delicate bubble you and Tommy have found yourselves in. Yet, it persists, demanding acknowledgment, refusing to be ignored.

You take a deep breath.

“Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

He gives you a reassuring smile. “Of course, darlin’.”

“Why won’t you go home?”

Oh. Tommy looks deeply into your eyes, his own filled with turmoil, and finds that he can’t lie to you. 

“I can’t,” he admits softly, turning his gaze towards the distant horizon.

You nod slowly, turning your head towards the water as well. “You know why I’m here.”

“Yes,” he says simply, his acknowledgment laden with a quiet understanding.

You steal a glance at him, your eyes searching for comfort in the weary lines on his face. With a tentative gesture, you place your hand on the bench between you, a subtle invitation for connection.

Tommy, sensing your unspoken plea, catches the movement from the corner of his eye. His gaze meets yours as you turn your head, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, he understands. Without a word, he responds, reaching out to cover your hand with his own. 

His touch is protective, a silent promise that you’re not alone. 

“Do you…do you think that makes me a bad person?” you whisper, your voice trembling as you lay bare the depths of your fears.

“No,” he responds softly, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity. “You’re not a bad person for feeling the way you do.”

For the first time since your miscarriage, tears glisten in your eyes, shimmering like fragments of shattered dreams under the moonlight. Tommy’s words offer a glimmer of solace, touching your broken heart. 

Silence settles between you two, heavy with shared pain. You sit like that for a while, two strangers finding kinship in the gentle embrace of this summer night.

Gently squeezing your hand, Tommy turns to look at you after a few minutes. “I need you to do something for me,” he says, his voice tinged with urgency. You look into his eyes, finding comfort in the warmth of his presence.

“Please stay with me tonight,” he pleads, his fingers tightening around yours, anchoring you to the present moment as if afraid you might slip away into the night. 

“We can stay here, we can go for drinks, we can go dancing, we can break into the zoo—whatever you want, sweetheart. We don’t have to talk about anything, and I promise I won’t bother you anymore if tomorrow you decide that’s what you want, but please give me a chance to show you that I ca–”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

“Okay.”

As the gentle breeze around you whispers secrets of hope and renewal, you find yourself nodding in agreement, a silent promise to give him the chance he so earnestly seeks—to let him show you the light that flickers within the darkness. 

Tommy is momentarily stunned as he searches your face for any sign of hesitation. But there’s none to be found—only a quiet resolve that speaks volumes. A wave of relief washes over him, and he can’t hold back the wide grin spreading across his face.

“So, there’s a place a few minutes from here where we could dance, or there’s the bar I went to earlier, or we could–”

“Tommy?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I’m tired. Could we maybe…could we go home?”

Tommy’s face lights up even more. “Yes, yes, of course, darlin’. My place is right around the corner.”

“Great,” you say with a small smile. 

You put your socks and sneakers back on, your movements slow and unsteady after hours of sitting. As you stand up for the first time, your legs wobble beneath you, but Tommy is quick to react, reaching out to steady you with his hands on your waist.

“Sorry,” you mumble, cheeks heating up as you realize your hands are gripping his shoulders for support.

“That’s alright, darlin’. I got you.”

“You’re so cheesy, you know that?” you say with a playful roll of your eyes before removing your hands and taking a step back. 

“Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not working,” he teases back with a smirk.

“Whatever. Can we go?” You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“After you, my lady,” Tommy says with a gallant flourish, gesturing for you to go first. You shake your head with a theatrical sigh, but play along and start walking.

He falls into step beside you, eager to lift your spirits with an array of random animal facts he’s accumulated over the years, and, much to your amusement, with some particularly funny stories about failed hookups, like the one from tonight.

As you draw closer to his apartment, he suddenly sucks in a sharp breath and comes to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

“I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask if you need anything.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno, tampons, make-up wipes, solution for your contacts, hair conditioner, lotion—I don’t think I have any of that at home, but there’s a convenience sto–”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, touched by his consideration. “I got all my essentials in my backpack and really don’t need anything fancy. Thank you, though.”

“Are you–”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you interrupt softly. “Thank you.”

Arriving at Tommy’s apartment, you’re struck by its elegant yet welcoming nature. It’s spacious and tastefully furnished, with a modern aesthetic that speaks to Tommy’s discerning taste. You can’t help but wonder if his job as a contractor affords him such a nice living space or if he’s secretly a trust fund kid—or a very successful drug dealer.

“Must be nice,” you think to yourself.

As Tommy ushers you inside, you’re enveloped in a sense of warmth and comfort as the space feels distinctly homey, with its wooden furnishings and cozy accents that evoke a rustic charm. The polished hardwood floors gleam under soft lamplight, casting a warm glow throughout the living room.

Tommy assures you that you’re welcome to make yourself at home as he heads into the kitchen to get you a glass of water.

Despite its hominess, the apartment remains impeccably clean and organized—a testament, perhaps, to Tommy’s meticulous nature. Every surface is spotless, every item in its proper place, reflecting a discipline that may well stem from his army training.

As you explore further, you do notice small touches that hint at Tommy’s personality—framed photos of him and his friends, a worn but well-loved armchair and couch positioned opposite the TV, horse figurines on the sideboard, and a few potted plants scattered throughout, adding a touch of life to the space.

Your eyes are eventually drawn to the record player nestled in one corner, surrounded by a collection of vinyl records. The sight brings a smile to your face, appreciating the nostalgic feeling it gives you. You’re pretty sure you used to have the same model in your childhood home.  

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you hear Tommy’s voice behind you as he hands you the glass of water with a knowing smile. “You like Jazz?”

“Thanks. And yeah, I guess?” 

“Okay, wait a sec.” He moves with practiced ease, flipping through his collection of vinyl records until he finds the one he’s looking for. With a gentle touch, he carefully removes the chosen record from its sleeve, handling it delicately as if it were a precious artifact.

You sip on your water and watch in fascination as he places the record onto the turntable, the soft click of the needle finding its groove. As the first notes of a smooth jazz melody fill the air, you can’t help but smile, the music enveloping you in its warm embrace.

Tommy catches your eye and grins, nodding in approval as if to say, “See, I knew you’d like it.”

You roll your eyes and nudge his arm with your elbow. 

“Want me to show you around?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, so this is the bedroom,” he says, leading you down the hallway and into the room where you’ll be sleeping. The bed sits neatly made, its dark sheets promising a restful night ahead. “I’ll change the sheets for you in a bit, okay? And I’ll be sleeping in the living room on the couch.” 

“I, uh,” you murmur, but stop yourself, shaking your head. “No, forget it.”

“What is it? It’s okay, you can tell me.” He searches your eyes as you meet his gaze, waiting patiently for you to answer him. 

“Could you maybe…not change the sheets?”

Tommy’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but he doesn’t make it awkward. Instead, he nods understandingly and immediately assures you, “Sure, I’ll leave the bed as it is then.”

You offer him a grateful smile and as if sensing your need for comfort, he asks, “Do you need a shirt to sleep?” Without waiting for your response, he retrieves one of his shirts and hands it to you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, taking the shirt from him and holding it close. It’s soft and smells nice.

“And here’s the bathroom,” Tommy continues, leading you through the space. “Feel free to take a shower if you want. Spare towels are here, and there’s a new toothbrush in the cabinet here. Toothpaste is over there. I even got fancy face masks if you wanna try, they’re in here. You think you got everything you need?”

“I think so,” you smile at him before leaving the bathroom to grab your backpack. 

As you’re about to head back, Tommy slips in ahead of you. You watch as he discreetly removes all the razor blades, a silent but clear gesture of concern for your well-being. You understand what he’s doing, and although it stirs a pang of humiliation and shame inside you, you don’t say anything and act like you didn’t see it.

After he leaves the bathroom, you take a moment to compose yourself before closing the door, peeing, taking off your clothes, and catching a glimpse of the small surgery scars on your belly. They appear to be healing well, already looking much better than even a week ago.

With a deep breath, you turn on the shower, allowing the warm water to cascade over your body, soothing away some of your tension. As you lather up, enveloped in the steam and the rich scent of Tommy’s body wash, there’s a knock on the door, interrupting your thoughts.

“Darlin’?” Tommy’s voice sounds through the door.

“Yeah?”

“Just wanted to check if you were okay.”

“I’m okay. But you seriously need to start buying body wash for adults, dude. I’m gonna be smelling like a fourteen-year-old boy now, and I don’t know how to feel about it,” you tease. 

“Ha ha, you brat. Enjoy your shower.”

You smile to yourself and appreciate how clean Tommy’s shower is as, in your experience, that is not something you can count on with men who live alone.

As you lather shampoo into your hair, you close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment of peace amidst the chaos of recent events. It’s all so surreal.

Once rinsed, you step out of the shower and wrap yourself in one of Tommy’s plush towels, the soft fabric hugging your body in a tight embrace. With the steam still lingering in the air, you take your time cleaning your face, brushing your teeth and detangling your wet hair, these simple acts of self-care something you’ve neglected in the weeks prior.

Luckily, your past self decided to pack a fresh pair of panties and a pair of soft yoga pants you can change into now, Tommy’s shirt completing your pajamas for tonight. 

Slowly, you step out of the bathroom, the soft light of the living room floor lamp casting a warm glow on the scene before you. Tommy’s sitting on the couch, bathed in the gentle ambiance of the record player’s music.

With a glass of whiskey in hand, he seems lost in thought, fingers rhythmically tapping against the glass, his eyes focused on the spinning vinyl. As you approach, he looks up, a small smile gracing his lips as he welcomes you to join him.

“Okay yeah, I get it,” he quips, his tone playful as he notices how perfectly his shirt accentuates your eye color. “You look better in my shirt than I ever could. There’s really no need to rub it in.”

Chuckling, you settle into the cushion beside him, feeling the warmth of his presence. It feels oddly comforting to be close to him again, his cologne a familiar scent.

But as you sit beside him now, something shifts in the air, a subtle change that you can’t quite pinpoint. It’s as if a newfound awareness has settled between you, casting a different light on the space you share. And as you steal glances at Tommy, you start to feel restless, your heart rate quickening.

Oh.

The realization dawns on you slowly, creeping in like the first light of dawn, illuminating the depths of your emotions. You find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him, mesmerized by the way he sits on the couch, his posture relaxed yet undeniably confident. 

Your eyes trail over the breadth of his shoulders, down his strong arms, his sculpted torso, and settle on his spread thighs, the subtle flex of muscles visible beneath the fabric of his jeans. Each movement, each shift of his body, only serves to deepen the intensity of your attraction to him.

You’re in trouble. 

His handsome face holds a certain allure, drawing you in with its rugged charm—especially with those warm eyes and the beautiful facial hair. As you look at him, really take him in, you can’t deny the flutter of arousal stirring deep within you.

A flutter that’s enough to urge your scrambled brain to make a move.

Tommy catches your prolonged stare, and his brows furrow slightly, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. You gather the courage to ask for a sip of his whiskey, unwittingly biting your lip as you wait for his answer. 

“Of course, darlin’,” he agrees, leaning in with a broad smile, bringing the glass closer to you.

As your fingers brush against his on the glass, you feel a surge of electricity pass between you. His pupils dilate ever so slightly, his gaze locked onto yours. You take the glass from him, your fingers lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.

Raising the glass to your lips, you take a slow sip, relishing the smooth warmth of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. Your eyes never leave his as you lick your lips, the gesture not lost on Tommy as he watches you intently.

The flicker of desire in his eyes tells you that he’s captivated by your silent invitation, but as Tommy accepts the glass back, a faint frown tugs at his brow, his expression suddenly tense.

“Darlin’, don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, his voice husky with restraint.

You raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence as you ask, “Why not?”

“Because,” he breathes out, “it’s making me want to do things I shouldn’t.”

“Hmm, but what if I told you that I want to do those things, too?”

Tommy swallows hard as you scoot closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours. His pulse quickens, evident in the subtle rise and fall of his chest, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, unsure of what to do or say next.

When your hand lands gently above his knee, his body tenses at your touch. His lips part slightly, as if he’s about to speak, but all he manages is a heavy breath.

“Tell me to stop,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you lean in slowly, searching his eyes. You can see the conflict raging within him, desire warring with restraint, and you wait for his response.

With a shaky exhale, his gaze drops down to your lips, his entire being filled with longing and uncertainty. But as your palm wanders up his thigh, drawing closer and closer to his growing erection, his resolve begins to crumble like sand underfoot. 

Unable to resist any longer, he leans in, closing the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender yet fervent kiss. His hand instinctively finds the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your wet hair as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a quiet urgency.

Feeling you so close, feeling your soft lips against his, he surrenders to the moment, to the sweet sensation of your embrace, letting himself be consumed by the taste of you.

And yet, in the back of his mind, he’s painfully aware of the circumstances of your meeting.

“I don’t think…this…is a good idea,” Tommy mumbles breathlessly against your lips as you whine needily for more.

“I don’t care,” you breathe, pulling back for a moment to hold onto his shoulders and straddle his lap. His cock twitches in his jeans as you scoot forward, your warm core putting delicious pressure on it. Smiling, you put your hands on his chest and lean in to kiss him again. He cups your face with his hands, kissing you back deeply before nudging your nose with his. 

You open your eyes and meet his gaze, his pupils so dilated his brown eyes are almost completely black. 

“Let me look at you, baby” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, sending shivers down your spine. With a smile, you straighten up and place your hands behind you on his thighs, giving him a great  view of your spread thighs and torso.

“Is this okay?” Tommy asks softly as he traces your thighs with his palms, his touch sending tingles of anticipation through your body.

You nod your head yes, and his lips curve into a smile as his eyes roam your body and face with adoration. His hands wander over your hips, under the shirt you’re wearing, along your waist and further up, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, his eyes piercing yours as his hands come to rest on your waist. 

“I’m sure you say that to every girl willing to sit on your lap,” you tease with a smirk, putting your hands on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat under your palm. 

“Yeah, but with you I mean it.” His words carry a weight of sincerity as one hand reaches out to tenderly caress your cheek, while the other glides over the soft skin of your back. “C’mere baby.”

As you lean in, his lips capture yours with an almost desperate hunger, his kiss rough and deep, as if he fears you might vanish if he doesn’t hold onto you tightly enough. His hands glide to your lower back, hovering just above your ass, hesitant to go further yet craving to pull you closer, to feel every inch of you pressed against him, to consume you whole. 

“You don’t have to be so gentle. I won’t break,” you say softly, leading his hands down to your ass. You hum in satisfaction as he grabs it, feeling the strain of his arousal against your aching pussy.

“Tommy,” you whine quietly against his lips, begging him to understand how desperately you need him.

Lost in the moment, you both sink deeper into the kiss, the world around you fading away until there’s only the heat of each other’s bodies and the rhythm of your shared desire. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands roam your back, igniting sparks of pleasure with every touch.

But as the intensity of your kiss grows, so does the weight of uncertainty. Tommy pulls back slightly, his breathing heavy as he searches your eyes for reassurance.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispers. “We don’t have to…”

“I want you, Tommy,” you purr, your eyes glazed. 

Your hips rock against him, trying to relieve the tension that has grown between your thighs, eliciting a deep groan from him. His hands move to your waist, helping you grind against him. 

“Oh shit,” he pants, reveling in the needy moans leaving your lips. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” he admits with a soft shake of his head, looking at you with wide eyes, still moving you against the bulge in his jeans.

“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you breathe, leaning in to kiss and suck at his sensitive neck, leaving purple marks behind. You feel his grip tighten, his restraint slipping as he responds to your touch with a low groan.

Lost in the overload of sensations—feeling your warm body, your soft lips and wet tongue, your urgent movements on him, hearing your moans and whispered pleas—Tommy is ready to give you what you both want.

But right as he’s opening his belt with deft fingers, he inadvertently turns his head and catches his reflection in the window. Watching you writhe on top of him, clutching his shirt, his own face twisted in ecstasy, a sharp pang of guilt shoots through him.

This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this.

You move to kiss his lips again, but as you do so, you catch the concern in his eyes, and your heart sinks. “Hey,” you whisper, your brow furrowed, an anxious smile on your lips. 

Your fingers trail gently through his hair, seeking reassurance, but when his movements cease and his touch withdraws, panic floods your senses.

“No, no please don’t stop,” you beg, your desperation evident in every word. You press against him, your hips moving with urgency, aching for the connection you crave so deeply. “I need you.”

Your hands gently cup his cheeks, your pleading eyes flitting between his. 

“Please? Tommy?”

Feeling something bump against your leg, you’re called back to the present.

“Oh, hi there, buddy,” you coo, looking down at the toddler who just faceplanted in front of you. You lean down and offer your hand to help him up. “What are you up to, hm? Just running around?”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, his face breaking into a toothy grin. “You wanna sit up here and wait for your mommy?” You lift him up, putting more pressure on your bandaged hand than you should, and set him down beside you. “Great view, huh?”

He babbles something unintelligible, his little arms flailing as his excited laughter fills the air. “You’re so right, buddy,” you agree, following his gaze to the sparkling blue, “the ocean is beautiful.”

“Benji? Oh, there you are,” a lady in a swimsuit calls out, walking towards you with a relieved smile. “I’m sorry for disturbing you,” she says to you, her tone apologetic. “Benji, how many times have I told you not to run away, hm?”

The toddler giggles in response to his mom’s reproach, his little arms reaching out for her. You can’t help but laugh along with him. 

“Think twice before you decide to have kids,” the lady says with a deep sigh, lifting her son onto her hip. “They’re not always as cute as they look.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckle.

“Say bye to the nice lady,” she prompts, her voice warm and gentle.

Benji turns to you, his eyes bright with innocence, and waves enthusiastically with his chubby little hand.

“Bye Benji,” you coo, returning his wave with a big smile, your heart warmed by his adorable gesture.

You sigh and look at your phone. You have two new messages from Tommy.

Maria says she can’t wait to see you tomorrow. And that she’ll personally drag you here if you decide not to show up. 

You’re family and there’s nothing you can do to escape us ;)

You swallow hard and can feel your puffy, irritated eyes starting to water behind your black glasses. What the fuck did you ever do in your insignificant life to deserve this kind of love?

Your phone lights up with another text from Tommy. 

just accept it <3

You snort and shake your head. You’re so grateful for his friendship. It has changed a lot over the last couple of years, of course it has, especially after he started dating Maria, and more recently since you started…seeing his brother without telling him. 

But the fact that you’re still honoring your yearly tradition to have your late-night talk on this very bench, is a testament to the depth of your bond. It’s a cherished ritual, marking the anniversary of your first meeting. You meet here, under the evening sky, exchanging stories and laughter, and indulging in pizza after sunset.

Two years ago, Tommy told you he met someone before you left his apartment the next morning. 

“Sweetheart?” “Yeah?” “I, uh, I got something to tell you.” “Shoot.” “I met someone.” Your fingers halt as you’re tying your shoes, the world around you suddenly still as his words sink in. You stare at the floor, tension building in your heart. “We’ve only been on two dates, but I–” “Really like her,” you finish his sentence as you tie the laces into a knot, straighten up and meet his gaze. “Yes.” That’s it, then. You’ve been replaced. “Does that,” you clear your throat that feels incredibly tight now, your voice shaking, “does that mean we can’t hang out anymore?” Tears well up in your eyes as you feel a rush of panic flood through you. You look down and try to blink back the tears threatening to spill over. “Of course not,” Tommy says, his tone gentle yet firm. “Nothing and no one in the world could ever keep me from spending time with you.” “Okay,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper as you hastily wipe away a tear with trembling fingers. “I’m sorry for crying, I–I don’t mean to.” “Hey, you don’t need to apologize for that,” Tommy says softly, closing the distance between you two. His hands find their place on your shoulders, offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “Darlin’, look at me.” You lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes brimming with fresh tears. “I mean it,” he says with a comforting smile, looking intently into your eyes and cupping your face with his hands. “I promise I’m not going to leave you. I will always be here for you.” You study his face and tell the nagging voice in your mind to shut the fuck up. This is Tommy. He deserves love, he deserves happiness, he deserves someone who can give him everything he wants.  And that’s not you. You give him a kiss on the cheek and a sincere smile. “I’m really happy for you, Tommy.”

You did continue spending time together—Tommy kept his word and didn’t abandon you—but as more and more time passed, you would see him less and less as his relationship with Maria deepened.

You expected that to happen, it didn’t hurt any less though.

One year ago, he told you he was going to propose to her, and you spent all night brainstorming ideas on how he could do it. After she’d said yes, they both let you know one day over dinner that they were going to elope, just the two of them, and you were the only person they’d tell beforehand. 

A few weeks ago, Tommy beamed with pride as he shared that they were trying for a baby, the twinkle in his eyes warming your heart. Despite the joyous news, you couldn’t resist teasing him for planting that image in your mind.

After you’d shared your stories, and your pineapple and pepperoni pizzas, he very casually asked you if you were seeing anyone, and you said, “No.” 

“You’re a horrible liar, darlin’.” “I’m not lying. I don’t like anyone except you.” “Stroking my ego’s not gonna get you off the hook, baby.” “Hmm, I’m pretty sure it’s working though.” “The longer you deny it, the more obvious it gets, you know.” “I’m not seeing anybody, Tommy.” “You really wanna play semantics with me?” “Alright, alright. I guess I’m…kinda seeing someone.” “Why just ‘kinda’? Does the guy not realize what a lucky bastard he is?” “It’s not him. It’s, uh…you know me.” “Yeah, and that’s why I know you’ve caught feelings.” “Ew, don’t say that.” “Well, it’s true. It’s written all over your pretty face.” “You suck, you know that?” “Yeah, it’s part of what makes me so charming. Does he know?” “I dunno, probably not.” “Are you gonna tell him?” “Uhh, I don’t think so.” “Why not? All this time I’ve known you and I’ve never seen you in love before. You can’t just…ignore it.” “Tommy…” “Don’t even try it with the puppy eyes, I’m immune to them.” “Liar.” “Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t tell him.” “Easy. If I never tell him, it’ll never hurt.” “That’s not how it works.” “You just couldn’t let me live happily in my delusions, hm?”  “Sweetheart. I know you’re scared, and you have all the reason to, but…sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith, you know?” “I’m not sure I can.” “What does your gut say?” “My gut says he’s too good for me and that he wouldn’t like me if he knew who I really am.” “As someone who does know who you really are, I can assure you that it’s a privilege I wouldn’t miss for the world.” “I just…don’t wanna mess things up, Tommy.”  “Look. Nothing lasts, but nothing is lost if you try. Everything changes and everything is alright.” “Wow, that was beautiful…you’re really starting to feel that rum and coke, huh?” “You know I’m right, baby.”

It’s funny, really. 

You actually entertained the idea that Tommy might be onto something, that perhaps opening up to Joel could bring some semblance of peace, that perhaps you could be happy together. Yet here you are, back where you started, the familiar ache of loss settling in your heart, whispering that everything is far from alright.

As the sun dips below the horizon, the sky transforming into a canvas of vibrant colors,  reflecting off the rippling surface of the water, you take your shoes and socks off. You sink your toes into the soft, grainy sand, relishing its comforting texture. 

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, allowing the rhythmic sound of the waves to soothe your racing thoughts. With each exhale, you remind yourself that you’re safe, embracing the tranquility of the moment as the colors of the sunset dance across your eyelids. 

You feel grounded, peaceful, almost—

“Hi, darlin’.”

“Jesus, you scared me,” you startle with a gasp, snapping back to reality as Joel’s voice unexpectedly breaks the silence.

“I’m so sorry, I thought you saw me,” he says with an apologetic smile on his lips, his big puppy eyes looking puppier than ever.

You sigh exasperatedly and take off your sunglasses. “I didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he begins, his words stumbling over each other, “I didn’t mean to intrude, I just...I thought I–I mean, I wanted to...”

“Joel,” you interrupt him, too exhausted—physically and emotionally—to beat around the bush. “What are you doing here?”

His brow furrows slightly and his heart plummets as he sees your bleary eyes, a pang of concern settling heavily in his stomach. “I wanted to see you, darlin’,” he confesses softly.

Your gaze sharpens with curiosity and suspicion as you ask, “But how did you know I was gonna be here? And can you please sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

Joel hesitates for a moment, then sits down beside you, his movements cautious as if afraid to spook you. With a nervous glance in your direction, he clears his throat, his voice low and hesitant.

“I, uh,” he begins, his words faltering slightly, “I went to your place after work to see if you’d maybe talk to me in person. But you weren’t there. And then I went to your office to see if you were working late, but I saw Kristen and she said it was your day off. You could have been anywhere at that point, so I went to Tommy’s and…told him.”

His eyes flit between yours, anxiously searching for your reaction. 

You blink slowly, processing Joel’s words with a sense of resignation rather than shock. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you realize that, at this point, nothing surprises you anymore. With a tired nod, you acknowledge Joel’s actions, feeling too drained to muster any significant reaction.

“How’d he take it?” you ask quietly.

Joel exhales deeply, a wry smile on his lips. “He isn’t too happy with me right now, but I think he’ll get over it.”

“Hm.”

“Darlin’, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice wavering with emotion. “I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but after last night, I just…I couldn’t bare the thought of you not knowing how much you mean to me.”

As Joel speaks, you keep your gaze averted, unable to meet his eyes, your focus fixed on the sand beneath your feet. You hear every word he says, each one echoing in the silence between you, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your reluctance to face him, Joel’s unwavering gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes silently pleading for understanding.

In the midst of the tense silence, a sudden clarity washes over you, and your heart speaks before your mind can catch up. Just as Joel opens his mouth to apologize again and explain further, you interject with your own question, the words tumbling out softly into the stillness.

“Do you ever feel like there’s something missing...like a piece of your heart is somewhere else? And no matter what you do, you’re always gonna be incomplete?” 

You meet Joel’s gaze, your eyes searching his, peering into his soul with a vulnerability that lays bare your deepest feelings. 

“I don’t feel like that when I’m with you,” you whisper.

Joel’s brows furrow in a mixture of surprise and tenderness as your words sink in. His lips part slightly, his expression softening with understanding as he processes the weight of your confession.

“Would you, um,” you clear your throat, “would you hold my hand and just sit with me for a bit?”

Joel’s eyes beam with adoration as he gently envelops your hand that’s clutching your shirt, delicately prying it away and intertwining his fingers with yours. With a soft, reassuring smile, he places your entwined hands on his thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.

As you both gaze out at the vast expanse of the water, the waves lapping against the shore in a mesmerizing dance, you feel a sense of peace settle over you like a warm blanket.

You still carry the weight of unresolved issues and uncertainties in your heart, acknowledging that they loom on the horizon, demanding attention. But for now, they can wait.

Your hand in Joel’s feels right, and in this shared moment right here, that’s enough.

Thank you for reading! 🤍

previous | series masterlist | main masterlist

tag list: @dugiioh @eviestevie-14 @koshkaj-blog @jupiter-soups @mattmurdockstateofmind @missladym @paleidiot @pattwtf @runningmom94 @serenadingtigers @staywildflowahchild @the-orange-tabby-cat @tuquoquebrute @witchofthedeepwoods @yassspose let me know if you want to be added

#fwb!joel miller x f!reader #fwb!joel miller #series: you wanted this #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #tommy miller #joel miller x you #tommy miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #tommy miller angst #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us fic #tommy miller fluff

[jakesuit0]

What Was Missing Review

Finn is revealed to regularly have alone time with the wad of Princess Bubblegum’s hair she gave him in “To Cut a Woman’s Hair”. It’s essentially a PG version of a guy still holding on to their ex’s underwear for personal use. The allegory is pushed forward with Finn checking to make sure he is alone. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t exactly shocking behavior for a thirteen year old boy, but it’s the first big sign that Finn’s crush is getting unhealthy after “Too Young”. It’s time to move on! Unlike “Wizard Battle”, I like the incorporation of Finn’s feelings, despite the arc feeling like there’s nowhere to go after “Too Young”. It’s not the main conflict in the episode, and serves to build to a climax in the season finale.

The Door Lord steals Finn’s gum, Jake’s blanket, and BMO’s controller. It’s hilarious that he only speaks in loud mumbles. He’s supposed to be related to Key-per from “The Enchiridion!”. The Door Lord steals a toy from a candy person and Finn reassures him “I’ll get your kid back, toy!”. The episode wasn’t originally written this way. Adam Muto misspoke when he was pitching the episode and they thought it was funny to keep it like that. Door Lord steals something from Bubblegum and attempts to steal Marceline’s bass axe. With Maja being in possession of Hambo, it makes sense for her bass axe to be her most important item. Finn, Jake, Princess Bubblegum, Marceline, and BMO have to team up to solve the riddle of the door. It’s great getting to see this group of characters together for the first time. It’s the entire main cast minus Ice King, and they get so few opportunities to all be together before Stakes. Their group dynamic is so fun too. The episode is set in Red Rock Pass, which is a really pretty setting to choose for a (mostly) bottle episode. 

Marceline chastises Bubblegum for not executing the door lords, as they kept breaking out of jail. I’m not sure if PB is really above just killing them, considering all the fucked up stuff she’s done in the past. But, killing might be a bridge too far for her. I know she committed robot genocide, but I argue she didn’t see them as sentient beings. Jake decides to pretend to be the jerk in the band. Since Jake doesn’t have a grand emotional arc, this is a funny role to put him in. Marceline starts singing “Just Your Problem”:

-“I’m gonna drink the red from your pretty pink face”. This pretty much gives the game away about PB and Marcy not being platonic. She’s singing about kissing and biting PB. 

-PB calls it “distasteful”, causing Marceline to accuse her of just not liking her. This ties into PB not liking Marceline’s behavior when she got more and more consumed with her princess duties. Marceline became well aware of this by their first mission to the Glass Kingdom (“Oh c’mon, you love it.”). 

-“Sorry I don’t treat you like a goddess. Is that what you want me to do?” She’s calling out PB’s god complex. Marceline assumes Bonnie thinks she’s better than her, like how she sings “you’re self-obsessed and all the rest” in Distant Lands.

-“Sorry I don’t treat you like you’re perfect, like all your little loyal subjects do. Sorry I’m not made of sugar. Am I not sweet enough for you?”. Marceline thinks Bubblegum demands absolute loyalty from everyone as she does with her citizens. She thinks PB would prefer Marceline to be a dum dum juiced moron that never questions her. We don’t know if Marceline is aware of the dum dum juice, but I like to think that she’s partially referring to that. It also relates to Marcy viewing PB as a dictator as she sings in “Woke Up”. She thinks PB wants her to turn down her edginess and be sweeter, like when she wasn’t taking the situation in the Glass Kingdom seriously, something I’m sure wasn’t an isolated incident. 

-I’ll lump together “Is that why you always avoid me?” with the later line “I forgot what landed me on your blacklist.”  Some people question why Marceline wonders this considering her singing “Woke Up” is the obvious answer. I think she’s partially referring to PB’s actions before their breakup. Bubblegum grew more distant as her responsibilities grew, something that confused and hurt Marceline. PB talks about this in “Varmints”. She’s also referring to PB being cold to Marceline for centuries after their breakup. Even when they were around each other in “Power Animal” and “Video Makers”, we don’t see them talking. Bubblegum was very dismissive of Marcy in “Go With Me”. This is partially Marceline’s fault, as she can be really rude and mean to Bonnie, as seen in this episode. 

-“I shouldn’t have to justify what I do.” Marceline doubles down on acting the way she thinks people perceive her. If people think she’s a monster, it's less painful for her to embrace it. This is something she picked up on from thinking she scared her mother away.

-“I shouldn’t have to be the one who makes up with you so why do I want to…” Marceline thinks that since PB is the one who pushed her away, PB is the one who should take the initiative of making things right. There is some truth to this, but as we see in “Obsidian”, they are both more at fault than Marcy is willing to admit. The faces on the door glow brighter and Marceline gets closer to the truth. The truth is she wants to at least be friends with Princess Bubblegum again. That’s the real reason she joined the group here. Reconnecting to PB is something we’ll see her try to do in episodes like “Sky Witch”, “Princess Day”, and “Varmints”. 

The song itself slaps. “Just Your Problem” is super popular, so much so that tons of non-fans know the song. A big reason being that it’s probably the most relatable Adventure Time song ever. A lot of people have friends and lovers that drifted away from them or became downright cold to them due to their differences. Rebecca Sugar even based the song off of her experience with a roommate. Princess Bubblegum’s face during this is also pretty telling. She was definitely having flashbacks to the last time Marceline humiliated her with a song. PB’s face turns to shock when Marceline is on the verge of revealing she wants to make up with her. I don’t blame Bonnie for not realizing this. Marceline’s general nastiness towards her, and of course what she said about her while singing “Woke Up”, would give PB the opposite impression. 

Finn doesn’t fully grasp the tension between PB and Marcy, but is able to diffuse the awkwardness and get everyone (besides Jake) to have fun together. I also like how sweet Marceline is to BMO, gently calling him “baby”. I like PB’s quirky attempt at a science based song, which is more fitting for her than singing her heart out like Marceline and Finn. Her song fails and Marceline uses it to antagonize PB. She fixates on Bonnie’s failures as she feels insecure in her presence. The words “monster trash” are definitely echoing in her mind here. Marceline is still really nasty to PB. A lot of it feels like unwarranted bullying without the context of future episodes, but even with the context, it still feels that way to an extent. Spitting on PB is pretty inexcusable and Bubblegum is totally right to walk away after it. Their conflict boils down to Princess Bubblegum’s ego and Marceline’s insecurity clashing. I also like the detail of Shelby slithering back into Jake’s smashed viola. 

As a final effort, Finn sings “My Best Friends in the World” after realizing the key to the door is the truth:

-“Am I a joke…?” Finn worries that Marceline doesn’t respect Finn, and perhaps only hangs around him because she enjoys messing with him. This is an understandable fear with episodes like “Henchman”. It’s still fundamentally untrue, squashed by the end of “Henchman” and in “Heat Signature”. There is no denying, however, that she loves trolling Finn. She likes messing with everyone, Finn’s young mind just makes him an easier target.

-“...your knight…?” This could be taken to mean Finn wonders if PB only keeps him around, and entertains his advancements, just to use his service to the kingdom. It’s true that Bubblegum employs Finn a lot, and isn’t above manipulating him for her benefit (“The Other Tarts”, “Too Old”, “James”), but she still genuinely enjoys his company whether they are working or just hanging out. He might also just be referring to this positively, as her knight in shining armor.

-“Do you look down on me because I’m younger?” All of Finn’s closest companions are older than him, and it makes sense that this weighs on him. Even Jake, who is often close to Finn’s level and acts as a best friend, also often acts as his parental guardian. This line applies most of all to Bubblegum, given how recent “Too Young” is. The events of that episode are still raw for Finn, and PB’s behavior to him after her age was restored came across as condescending and dismissive. 

-“I just wanted us together and to play as a band. Last night was the most fun I’ve ever had.” Finn loves getting to finally hang out with everyone he loves together and feeling like part of a family.

-“Even liked it when the two of you would get mad at each other.” Finn prefers honesty between friends, and appreciates seeing their more vulnerable side as they are usually more closed off from their true emotions in front of him.

-“You are my best friends in the world. And that’s right, I’m talking about the two of you girls. And you Jake.” With his parents dead, the three of them are by far his closest companions. He’s even grown very close to Marceline in recent times. It’s kinda mean to exclude BMO, who’s right there, but BMO becomes more of a part of Finn’s family over time than he is here. 

-“I’ll forget that I lost a piece of your hair. I’ll remember the pasta that we shared over there”. Very sweet line about how the wad of hair doesn’t really matter, the time he spends with PB and getting to be her friend is what’s meaningful to him. I like how the pasta has a double meaning. He obviously just shared pasta with her, but he also had a pasta dinner with Bubblegum when she gave him the hair. 

Finn’s song is my favorite moment of the series so far, and one of the best scenes ever in the series. I thought “Just Your Problem” was Adventure Time’s best song up to now but it’s then immediately topped. I love everyone participating in the song, especially Marceline singing along with Finn for parts of it. Finn’s song causing even PB and Marcy to harmonize together is great symbolism for Finn helping to bring them back together. Even Jake finally breaks character, he’s too caught up in the moment! Rebecca Sugar drew on her feelings of being a young newcomer when she joined the Adventure Time staff to write this song. Worrying about how your friends see you and if they respect you is another very ubiquitous concern. 

The group realizes that the Door Lord showed them that the real treasure is friendship. It’s very cheesy but the contents of the episode does enough to justify it. It’s cool how well the episode ties two themes into this episode: friendship and honesty. The quick cut from the Door Lord happily seeing they got the message to him being bruised and tied up is hilarious. They get their items back, including the famous rock shirt. It’s not at all PB’s style, going to show how much its pure sentimentality means to Bubblegum. The reveal that PB kept the shirt comes as a shock to Marceline. She realizes that Bonnie doesn’t see her as just her problem. Marceline blushing and PB revealing she wears the shirt all the time as pajamas are heavy hints to their romantic pairing. Their interactions in this episode are very queer-coded, even though they aren’t hitting us over the head with it like they do in season 7 onwards. The episode itself gives enough to figure out the broad strokes of Marceline and Bubblegum having a past and a falling out without giving the details, and it’ll be a long time until they are willing to explore it more at all. It’s revealed that Marceline only joined to hang out with them. Beyond reinforcing the theme of friendship, Marceline and PB now know that the other is interested in reforming a connection again, even if Marceline will have to be the one that ends up instigating it. 

“What Was Missing” is a fan favorite for good reason. The two musical numbers are the biggest draw and they are incredible. Rebecca Sugar using her own personal experiences to write them makes them feel so raw and personal. It’s some of the most direct the series ever is about Marceline and especially Finn’s thoughts and feelings, with them explicitly singing them. It’s refreshing to get some clear cut insight as the show is usually much more guarded. I wouldn’t want the series to always be this direct, but it's nice to have moments like these every once in a while to help provide insight into their other appearances. The episode is essentially a precursor for Steven Universe. You could slot in Steven for Finn, Pearl for Bubblegum, and Amethyst for Marceline quite easily. I also really like PB in this one! Despite “What Was Missing” having not one, but two characters that are in love with Princess Bubblegum, she gets to shine. It’s definitely more Marceline-heavy, but I like PB standing up for herself, getting to see her side of the conflict, and the return of her quirks with her scientific song. PB and Marceline also have pretty great outfits here, and it’s definitely their most iconic looks besides their default outfits. 

Rebecca Sugar has since stated that she wrote PB and Marcy as exes in this episode. She felt their interaction in “Go With Me” read that way. The episode does a great job extrapolating from that brief interaction. According to Rebecca Sugar, she pitched this idea to Adam Muto, who she boarded the episode with, and he approved. They ran this by Pen who also liked it. Cartoon Network forbade the crew from being explicit with it. They still did a good job making it as clear as they could with the restrictions and the fandom picked up on it. Rebecca Sugar wanted to include LGBTQ representation and felt that exploring it through the lens of two exes with a past was the best path to getting it in. Despite it only being subtextual, it was a big deal for 2011. 

This episode stirred up quite the firestorm. It’s possibly not a coincidence that it would take almost two years for PB and Marcy to interact again. The Fredator associated Youtube channel Mathematical! posted recaps after the airing of Adventure Time episodes. After the airing of “What Was Missing”, their recap speculated on the possible romantic pairing between Princess Bubblegum and Marceline, interlaced with overtly romantic drawings of Marceline and Bubblegum from character designer and storyboard revisionist Natasha Allegri. As a result, Fredator fired Mathematical! producer Dan Rickmers, deleted the video, and cancelled the Youtube series. Times were different then, but that’s no excuse for such an overreaction. Fred Seibert offered the following explanation:

“Well, I completely screwed up. There’s been chatter on the internet recently about our latest Adventure Time “Mathematical!” video recap that we created, posted, and removed here at Federator. I figure it’s time to clear up the matter. In trying to get the show’s audience involved we got wrapped up by both fan conjecture and spicy fanart and went a little too far. Neither Cartoon Network nor the Adventure Time crew had anything to do with putting up or taking down our latest re-cap. The episode ”What was Missing” remains a terrific short and will be shown again and again just like any other Adventure Time episode. I let us goof in a staggering way and I’m deeply sorry it’s become such a distraction for so many people.” It’s a really weak reasoning as Mathematical! had always been a fan oriented show and that’s what the entire fandom was talking about. Still, I’d expect this from an executive. What was unexpected were Adam Muto’s comments: 

“If it was just a fan video there would be no problem at all. The problem was that it was made by a production company actively involved with the show. The video took something that was a possible subtext and declared it, in effect, text and made it seem like the production was actively seeking out input on plot development. That's all there is to it.” Considering Sugar said that Adam Muto agreed with that interpretation, it would have been for the best if he just stayed out of the situation. That’s what Pen Ward did ("It’s hard to comment on that, because there were so many extreme positions taken on it all over the Internet, and it happened so quickly. I don’t really want to comment on it because of that, because there were so many extreme sides taken. It was a big hullaballoo.")

Now that we know Bubbline was in fact the crew’s intention, and it’s since been explicitly canonized, the situation is just even dumber. Dan Rickmer is definitely owed an apology. But what’s really important is the series no longer having to keep their relationship a big secret.

Grade: A+

#adventuretime #adventure time #what was missing #finn and jake #jake the dog #finn the human #princess bubblegum #marceline #bubbline #rebecca sugar

[cosmicbucket]

this is by no means an educated and informative post but rather a severe understatement of the rage i feel over the interview regarding one Gale Dekarios.

under the cut is a stronger criticism on the narrative's integrity with this ending; everything before that is tearing into the lead writer's statements.

note that I will be referencing other companions as contrast. this is not supposed to be tearing them down nor casting shade on anyone who enjoys these characters; i am trying to make a point through relevant comparison.

-----------------------------------------------

"the guy who starts off annoying everyone" that is such a blatantly subjective thing to say about a character.

for me personally, i Loathed shadowheart at first because of the immediate fantasy racism towards lae'zel. this is very clearly a subjective opinion as she's the most romanced companion, and I'm not mad about that in the slightest! she rocks! you can't judge a character on behalf of everyone ever. that's a foolish thing to do, full stop.

"constantly asking you to give him your most treasured possessions to eat" three times. he asks you for a magical item, three times. after that you are NEVER required to part with a magical item on his behalf again.

the game practically THROWS magic items at you for completing side quests, looting crates and chests. magic items are in ABUNDANCE and a lot of them won't be useful to your party depending on your companions and your chosen class. meanwhile, astarion's peculiar diet lasts the entire span of the game, creating a situation where should you choose to let him feed on you every night, you suffer a penalty to attack rolls, saving throws and ability checks OR waste a spell slot to remove the condition. astarion is most certainly in no shortage of fans and again! he rocks! but by comparison his effect on the player can stretch so far as to affect the final boss battle. gale's condition doesn't even make it past the end of act 1.

"at the end, he gives himself for the world" is it worth it though. is it really seriously worth it.

you can still defeat the elder brain yourself. it's not impossible. hell, with the right spells it's really fucking easy. are you seriously going to rob yourself of the satisfaction of defeating the final boss by sending someone to their death instead and calling it a day.

I can understand the narrative catharsis of a character who is so selfish, constantly, over and over, doing something selfless for the greater good.

But that just is not what Gale's story is.

Gale is ambitious and boastful, certainly. Gale is not selfish.

His attempt to impress Mystra - The Mother of Magic, Goddess of the Weave - came from a want to be equals with his partner. He explains how she refused to allow him to witness the depths of magic, and while that's a reasonable thing to enforce to a regular mortal, she had made him her Chosen, her lover. I would hope I don't need to delve into the blatant grooming (ie Elminster approaching Gale at the age of eight) and the obvious power imbalance between a goddess and a mortal in a relationship, but his desires - ambitious as they were - were not selfish.

When he asks for the player's assistance, he does so knowing that he's asking a lot from them, especially in terms of trust. While it's easy to see his pushiness for magic items as self-serving, it is quite literally a much larger problem than him. The damage he's capable of "could level a city", and that affects not just your party but the surrounding area for miles. His urgency, his impatience, comes from having to rely on someone else who might not respect the gravity of the situation (which, evidently, a lot of players don't.)

When he realises the magic items are doing nothing to prevent his hunger, he lays it out plainly to the player, apologising for having broken their trust, and gives them the choice to send him away to certain death with no hard feelings. He even explains his plan to find an Absolutist base and hopefully destroy that in order to aid you in his death, should you choose to kick him out. This is in Act 1, way before any massive character developments - that is to say, he is unselfish from the start.

Come Act 2, when Elminster tells Gale that Mystra expects him to detonate the orb to kill the Heart of the Absolute, Gale is immediately willing. He will answer to his goddess' whims without so much as a query. You don't have to convince him to do it - rather, it becomes your choice to convince him not to do it.

And you do have to convince him! You have to actively make the choice, over and over again, to say no, we can find another way. You are not dying today.

Even in Act 3, should you take him through Zethino's Love Test, you are able to call him out for his greatest flaw:

"He thinks he, and the world, might be better off if he were dead."

I am not calling him selfless by any means; he is not a paragon of virtue. He is, however, a character whose hubris (spurred by an abusive relationship with a goddess) is amply punished, so much so that he believes this punishment is entirely deserved. He is a victim of grooming who is told to kill himself in order to gain forgiveness for trying to be equals with his partner, who took advantage of him as a child.

What kind of message is Larian trying to make here? What are they trying to tell their audience? What are they saying to people who relate to Gale?

It's fucking horrible. Do better.

#rant post #rant #tw grooming #grooming #gale bg3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate gale #baldurs gate 3 spoilers #baldurs gate three #baldur’s gate iii #baldurs gate 3 #i really don't have anything else to say #ask to tag #if i've missed anything feel free to shout in the comments or rbs #i started writing this at 3:30am. it's been two hours. goodnight

[enixamyram]

I have tried really hard to ignore anti nonsense. I just wanna focus on the good and positive side of this fandom and just enjoy the series in general. But it's also hard bottling up thoughts when I'm used to ranting for the sake of getting my thoughts and feelings out and moving then on.

So I'm gonna put a couple reactions to Anti-Related Hazbin things under the read more just to get them out! Because my god, some of these are bullshit!

Chaggie - I've seen so much bullshit citicizm for this ship. People claiming they're boring or bland or badly written and I have yet to see a legit reason why other than that they don't have any typical relationship drama (which, for the record, I personally am so relieved about) or because they're not being overly affectionate every five minutes of screen time. And you know, this especially drives me crazy because they have some of the sweetest little gestures, whether it be holding hands, hugging, swinging each other round or even just the constant damn heart eyes they have when looking at each other in the background! They're so damn precious and if you can't see that, you don't know what a legit established relationship is supposed to be past the honeymoon phase.

Charlie - People once again have claimed she's badly written. I don't know why people seem to hate happy kind hearted females so much but I have seen this exact complaint about many characters who are similar to her. None of which are actually badly written. They're just not the new stereotype "bad asses" that seems to be the only acceptable way to write a female character lately. Which is ironic since a lot of the so called "bad ass" female characters I have seen are often so one dimensional. Yet we have Charlie, a kind hearted but also sometimes naive girl who is doing her best while also learning with the rest of her friends and ya'll are gonna try and claim she's not amazing? The more I rewatch the show, the more I wanna reschedule my favorite character list because there's not a second I don't adore having her on my screen.

Niffty - This one really makes me want to slam my head against the wall. I have seen so many people complain and claim she acts like a child. Bare in mind, I've just watched episode 3 - you know, the one where Niffty is fully ready to throw herself into the BDSM that Angel takes them to. The only thing close to evidence that I have seen for her acting like a child is the episode where she gets drunk except she's still not acting like a child there, she's acting like a drunk! When some people are drunk they're silly and dumb and very "child-like". Otherwise, the only reason I think people call her a child is because she's is literally small like one. Yet, if you actually look at anything past her basic physical appearance, she's a crazy murder machine and I don't know many children I can also give that title to.

Angel - This is so old and everyone else has said this all so much better than me but I just really want to repeat: Just because it's not YOUR representation doesn't mean it's BAD representation. Just because you dealt with your sexual assault in a certain way does not mean everyone deals with it that way and it sure as hell doesn't give you a right to dismiss others. I have seen so many people say they identify with Angel's character and his hypersexuality, so it is so annoyingly arrogant to see people trying to shut them down entirely because Angel's character isn't portraying their personal reactions. It's just so amazingly self-centered to be saying that if you can't personally relate to it exactly, then it shouldn't exist at all. Seriously, grow the fuck up.

Loser Baby/Poison - Again, this has been said so many times before by other people but I'm gonna add/repeat. Some people take these songs and videos so damn literally. I saw someone claim Angel was happy during his dance with Valentino in Poison which apparently made the whole character a contradiction? Completely ignoring the parts where he's clearly miserable or the part where he's clearly putting on a fake smile or even the part where he all out says he dissociates to get through. And then you have Loser Baby where people are outraged that Husk call Angel a loser and is apparently trying to compare their situations? I mean, he's obviously not saying they're situations are the same if you think about it for more than two seconds. Like, are you seriously this literal? If I said the message went over your head, would ya'll look up?

#Hazbin Hotel #Mini Rant #Anti Anti's #Chaggie #Charlie Morningstar #Niffty #Angel Dust #Loser Baby #Poison #I have yet to see someone give these “critics” #that doesn't also openly hate Vivzie. #And I'm not even going into the Vivzie bs because that's so old #and I'm so over these haters. #Anway #I'm gonna post some random positive screen shots now #cause I'm keeping my attitude happy for this fandom #because I genuinely adore so much of it #I'm not letting haters ruin it for me.

[loiswasadevil]

youre such a terrible fucking troll. youve got a lazy backstory, you "dont know" where your money comes from, you dont know what happened to your mom (tbh thats plausible, but unlikely), like youre seriously so bad at this HAHAHA. good run tho. i know you wont answer this bc you cant disprove, but u made me laugh so much. thank u frfr

I'm not a Troll Because JUST BECAUSE I'M FAMILY GUY FAN. I haven't spoken to my mom in over 8 years I don't know what happened to her I don't want any contact with my Family or my past life I don't fucking care what happened to her Because of the way they treated me. I NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT ANY OF THIS BULLSHIT UNTIL I BECAME ACTIVE ONLINE, THESE THINGS HAVE NEVER EVER CONCERNED ME AND I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN SELF SUFFICIENT, I DON'T NEED TO KNOW WHERE MY MONEY COMES FROM BECAUSE IT DOESNT CONCERN ME AND I HAVE NEVER SUPPORTED THIS CORRUPT SYSTEM, WHAT CAN YOU SAY ABOUT YOURSELF? YOU ARE A COG IN THE MACHINE, I AM THE AIR THAT SURROUNDS SAID MACHINE. I DON'T NEED TO TELL ANYONE ANYTHING ABOUT MY MOTHER, MY FATHER, OR MY BROTHER, I TALK ABOUT MY EXPERIENCES OFF GRID TO SPREAD AWARENESS ABOUT THE REALITY OF OFF GRID AND TO HIGHLIGHT THE IMPORTANCE OF FAMILY GUY IN MY LIFE, BECAUSE FOR OVER 10 YEARS IT WAS ALL I THOUGHT ABOUT. YES FOR MANY YEARS OF MY LIFE CALEB BOUGHT ME FOOD AND GIFTS. I DO KNOW WHERE MY MONEY COMES FROM BECAUSE I KNOW HOW TO USE MY CASHAPP CARD BECAUSE IM A FUCKING ADULT TOO, AND I HAVE ANOTHER CARD I USE WHEN IT DOESNT WORK. I KNOW HOW TO PRESERVE FOOD AND I HARDLY EAT AS MUCH AS THE AVERAGE PERSON. I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHAT HAPPENED TO MY MOM I HOPE SHE IS DEAD AS I DO WITH MY FATHER, I HOPE THEY ARE WATCHING ME EXPERIENCE MY HEAVEN;THEIR HELL EVERY DAY AND THRIVE. I AM THE DEVIL THAT RULES IN THEIR HELL, MY IRONIC PUNISHMENT WAS FUTILE IN THE HANDS OF FATE, BECAUSE I ESCAPED OFF GRID AND YOU WANT TO DENY ME MY HAPPINESS EVEN THOUGH YOU KNOW LITTLE OF MY LIFE. I DON'T HAVE A "BACKSTORY" I HAVE PERSONAL STORIES I SHARE WITH MY CLOSEST FOLLOWERS ON TUMBLR, I HAVE NEVER EVER MINDED TALKING ABOUT MY EXPERIENCE BECAUSE I BELIEVE IT IS MY DUTY AS AN ABUSE SURVIVOR TO TELL MY STORY. LIKING FAMILY GUY DOESN'T MAKE ME OR ANYONE A TROLL. YOU DON'T CALL SOUTH PARK KIN TROLLS JUST FOR BEING WHO THEY ARE, EVEN THOUGH THOSE PEOPLE ARE DISGUSTING CHILD PORN LOVING FREAKS. YOU JUST WANT TO HATE ON FAMILY GUY KIN AND BE MY CATALYST AND FUCK YOU FOR THAT. WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO "DISPROVE" WHEN NOBODY BELIEVES A STORY THAT I DIDN'T ASK ANYONE TO BELIEVE IN THE FIRST PLACE, MY LIFE ISN'T A STORY FOR YOU TO FLIP THROUGH LIKE SOME MAGAZINE. FAMILY GUY FANS LIVES MATTER AND FUCK YOU FOR TRYING TO DIMINISH ME FOR BEING AN ADULT CARTOON FAN/KIN. SORRY NOT SORRY THAT LIFE HAS DELT CARDS IN MY FAVOR, AND I HAVE THE WINNING HAND. I DO NOT HAVE TO DISPROVE ANYTHING, MY LIFE IS MY LIFE AND I CHOOSE TO TELL YOU ALL ABOUT IT BECAUSE I WANT TO SPREAD AWARENESS AND SHOW YOU ALL INSIGHT ABOUT HER DEVILS HEART AND THE PARALLEL HATRED BETWEEN UNIVERSI THAT CORRUPTED IT IN THE FIRST PLACE.

[thisishowgalaxiescollide]

You're honestly so close to getting me into nico/jack it isn't even funny anymore 😂

Anyway, if you're willing, give me the final push there and/or your fave fic (if you're reading any). I know I am tempting fate here but... Yolo. 😌 I accept it.

Come, friend, to the dark side. no, seriously, though, they make me ridiculously happy. Like, we don't have to do anything as a fandom because they already do the gay and the loving for us.

I must confess I haven't been reading much lately because work and life have been complicated enough to keep me from doing much more than reblogging a few things here and there. BUT my past self used to read, so I have a few treats for you, <3

1386 fic rec list

Melt the ice, by theaa

Summary:

So, like—was he just not supposed to notice, or—?

So, so, so good!

Caveat Emptor, by Kerfluffle

Summary:

Two months of advance preparation—memorizing detailed building blueprints, stalking specialists on LinkedIn, reading The $12 Million Stuffed Shark—and Nico gets fucked over by his turtleneck. Or, Nico lands himself in hot water after a recon mission goes awry.

Delightful and sweet.

50 Ways to Leave Your Lover, by Kerfluffle

Summary:

Unlike some supernatural disasters, theirs starts ordinary—with a harmless bar bet.

Fluffy, horny and funny. Great characterization.

kiss me on the mouth (set me free), by coastalhighway

Summary:

Headlights as bright as Jack’s should be illegal, probably. Nico locks the door behind him - three twists, one two three - and counts his steps to the car. He gets to twenty-seven and opens the door, and Jack smiles at him, sharp as a razor’s edge. He smells like smoke. “You good, baby?” he says, and Nico wonders if he tastes like smoke, too. Smoke and lies and broken mirrors, a nasally voice whispers in his ear, breath hot on his cheek. You broke the mirror, soothsayer, sweet-talker. Liar, liar. Nico sits down in the passenger seat. “Drive.” Jack doesn’t bother asking questions. He drives.

Gorgeous. Jack calling Nico "baby" has me !!!

deep into that darkness, by countthestars

Summary:

Quinn’s whole thing is talking to the dead, but Jack’s gift is dealing with the living.

Amazing. Quinn needs a nap and jack is a brat. I love him a lot.

Double Play, by dilangley

Summary:

This is minor league baseball, long days in little towns no one’s ever heard of playing games no one will remember once the lights go out.

This one blew my mind and broke my heart simultaneously even though I know nothing about baseball.

sense of expectation, by greenteam

Summary:

“No, no, hear me out on this…” Jack’s mind is running a million miles a minute as he tries to compile his thoughts into something even vaguely coherent. “I don’t have to go out and find someone new to be in family photos who I know I’m gonna turn around and dump the next week. And you get a free invite to the Hollywood wedding of the century.” Nico looks pensive as he lounges back on the sheets. “I think Ellen would give me an invite anyway.” Jack facewashes him for that. (or: 5 +1 plus ones)

Adorable.

won’t believe half the things i see inside my head, by rafting

Summary:

Jack can’t perfectly shift into anyone anyway; he has to concentrate and base his shifts on what he’s seen, what he knows of someone else’s face and body. So he’s never a perfect copy, often missing freckles or getting the hair or eye shades slightly off. He can’t shift his own dick into someone else’s if he’s never seen it, which is what most guys want to know. He thinks he’s got Nico’s face down pretty well. He’s spent enough time looking at it by now. or, the USNTDP is a program designed to help mutant hockey players control their powers, and Jack’s a shapeshifter who is starting to suspect Nico can read his mind.

Very interesting concept.

take the wheel, by greenteam

Summary:

Nico rakes a hand through his hair. “I just worry. That’s my job. You drive, I worry.” “I thought your job was to fix,” Jack says instead of doing something stupid like kissing Nico.

Just !!!

The tag is thriving, though, so I've probably only scratched the surface. I need to get go back and start reading again. One day soon.

#saucerfulofsins #fic rec #1386 #1386 fic rec #these are all probably old by now #if anyone has additional recs send them my way please #nico x jack

[tetsunabouquet]

(Un)popular SK Opinion: Ren&Jeanne make no sense and Men's existence is the most questionable of all

Alright, let me first get this out of the way because I'm a known Ren fangirl- no I don't hate Jeanne. I kinda used to after watching the original anime, but the manga as well as growing up and realizing she was just a brainwashed little kid who should be playing with dolls made me a defender of Jeanne and I firmly believe Marco should be in jail for what he did to her. But that still doesn't mean Jeanne and Ren started making sense, not even after Red Crimson. The only thing they share is a similar pain from their pasts, and that's not enough to make a relationship work for the long-term. Ask my parents. A relationship is build on so much more then just having a similar backstory and regrets. What do these two have in common, except for perhaps a better-then-you mindset on top of the aforementioned similar background?! We see NO build-up at all. Even in Red Crimson, all we get is as much as a two page scene of them being a couple. Yet even during that one scene between Yoh and Ren about having a family, it was implied he might already have a crush on Jeanne

HOW?! In every scene they were in during the main series, he was pretty much annoyed with her and the X-LAWS. So HOW?! And then we get to their actual relationship, which seems messy AF. Like, Jeanne and Ren got engaged before she was pregnant, but she had short hair during their wedding. Ren said she cut her hair short after she had Men. So, did she get pregnant during their engagement and is Men being babysat by the Jiang Shi during the wedding or something? Also, the 'holy maiden', giving birth to a child out of wedlock?! Are you kidding me?! Am I seriously supposed to believe that considering Marco was so strict and religious, Jeanne grew up to be like, 'A baby before getting married? Okay, no problemo.' It's not unheard of for teen moms to be allowed to get married when they are above 16, so why the fuck didn't Jeanne and Ren get married first in order to legitimize Men as their child? And then we get to their actual married life. Iron Maiden Jeanne, THAT Jeanne, who would shoulder all the sins of the world on her shoulders through regular self-torture, would travel through war conflicts to aid the people in need and would sleep in camps having barely anything, who turnt the X-LAWS into the world's largest charity organization, THAT Jeanne became a STAY AT HOME HOUSEWIFE?! EXCUSE ME?! Where the fuck did her noble mission go?! She's an ambitious martyr, yet she gave everything up that she worked so hard for to mope the floors of her home? That's character assasination if you ask me. As parents, they make zero sense either. Ren's pain and hatred of his family came from them robbing him of his childhood. Yet he's perfectly fine to send his SEVEN year old son into a dangerous tournament where nobody can be revived from the dead for the SLIM chance of them getting back Jeanne. EXCUSE ME?! This doesn't fit Ren AT ALL. The more you actually think about Ren sending his son into the Flower of Maize and how it is in stark contrast with how he wants to be different from his family's ways and his established character, the more confusing it gets. And I didn't understood why until I watched a YT video about Ren's character the other day, in which they pointed out the Shonen trope of having a rival-friend that the audience could root for in case they didn't like the main character like Goku and Vegeta. That's what Ren and Yoh are in the series, and obviously, a lot of the people reading the sequal read the main series. The more I think about it, the more I feel like Takei created Men and the Jeanne storyline to keep the Ren fans invested in the sequel. Which is why, its definitely poor lazy writing, and not even the only problem of poor writing in the sequel (I am looking at you Miss Alumi, you're way too much like some fanfic's poorly written OC).

#men tao #ren tao #iron maiden jeanne #shaman king #jeanne tao #tao family #red crimson #ren x jeanne #shaman king super star #shaman king flowers #PS MARCO SHOULD BE IN JAIL

[silvyavan]

OK I read the chapter and I finally realised why I can't Lucius seriously.

This man is giving eldest sibling syndrome, chuunibiyo and airfried energy so hard.

Like, all things considered, I don't think the majority of twitter really sets in that Lucius, even if he is the last baddie, is still the fuckhead that raised the Zogratis sibs.

This man is the reason Dante, Vanica and Zenon turned out like that and it SHOWS. (Under the cut cause I ain't making you read me dragging these 4 bitches to dirt)

Dante is the definition of narcissism, a man who thinks he's better than everyone but refuses to work for that title. He has the emotional intelligence of both a 50 year old boomer and a spoiled edgy 12 year old and it changes like a metronome. Even Lucifero dipped his ass. He's a misogynistic fuckwad with little to no mental development. This fucker absolutely copy pasted this shit from Lucius "I am The Chosen One" Zogratis.

Vanica. Look at her. This milf chasing trauma machine runs solely on the desire to fight because she's very much socially undeveloped and doesn't believe in familial love. Bitch couldn't understand why Acier wanted to protect her family and it took Noelle beating her ass halfway to death to even grasp the concept of friendship and it missed the shot so hard. Her healthiest relationship is with Megicula and that's an insult to Lucius' parenting methods.

Zenon. Zenon Gay Disaster Projection Zogratis. Where do I even begin with the most mentally incapacitated youngest child? This dude almost, ALMOST got out of the toxic family clutches and could have eloped with his childhood sweetheart Allen but Lucius (im pretty sure the dungeon incident was his fault, you can't tell me it aint) got so fuck ass mad over Allen "steering Zenon away from what he's supposed to be" that he sent out a hit on him to get Zenon to crawl back so traumatised he literally copy pasted the Lucius Manifesto into his head and went on a depression episode that lasted 15 years. Man self projected his self blame, flaws and everything he hated about himself onto Yuno because he saw the Parallels. Man sold his SOUL to Beelzebub for a cornchip victory that never came.

You telling me these three are the pinnacle of plotting? For all I can tell, Lucius sacrificed all of his sibling for whatever agenda he had and the minute something goes even a millimeter off the prophecy, he immediately tries to kill it instead of working around it.

Man is so hellbent on forcing his chosen one timeline he has no fucking long term planning skills. This man started a fight with Asta in front of two royals, a 500 year old sealing mage and all of whom know how to use Ultimate Magic. Mimosa is Literally the Senzu Bean of Black Clover. Noelle has killed MULTIPLE demons. Secre can banish Lucius' ass faster than he can ask what's going on. This is not the plan of the century, ESPECIALLY if he started this shit in the Royal Palace where MULTIPLE high ranking and strong mages reside.

You look at this man and tell me he ain't a deep fried chuuni who fell into a white supremacist reddit forum and got a 5 year plan that is a botched 20 year plan involving mass genocide. I don't believe it.

Man probably even made up Julius entire identity around his own self and then got shocked when said second soul then doesn't wanna listen to him.

I ain't even mad about Tabata making the 4th Zogratis Julius Sibling theory cannon now because the way it comes off, the only true way to stop the 3 Demonic Musketeers Of Apocalypse is to defeat their weirder, more unstable and bigoted eldest sibling who raised them into those disasters.

At this point, the only thing that could make this EVEN FUNNIER is if Lucius didn't account for the possibility of "eating a supreme devil's malice fueled heart immediately purifies them and reincarnates them as humans", which is to say Asta could be Astaroth's Unbothered, Moisturized, Happy, In My Lane, Focused, Flourishing Human Version and Asta simply talking is giving Lucius an aneurysm.

#black clover #black clover manga #asta black clover #black clover spoilers #lucius zogratis #dont mind my memeing ass rambling but Lucius all according to keikaku ass is making me laugh #silv writes

[brandnulife]

RWRB Quotes Part 3: Alex & Henry

Zahra: How long has this been going on? Alex: Since New Year's. Zahra: Oh, God! And who knows about this? Alex: Literally no one but you. And the Secret Service. Henry: And Percy. Alex: Right, and Nora. Henry: Oh, and I told my sister. Alex: Aw, I didn't know that. Henry: Yeah, she was really happy for us. Alex: Oh, I can't wait to see her again. She's really… Zahra: Okay! Shut up, okay? The both of you! I need to think.

Alex: Please don't tell my mom. Zahra: Seriously? Alex, we are in a hotel crawling with reporters, in a city filled with cameras, on the precipice of the biggest event of the campaign, in a race so close it could be arrested for assault, and you're asking me not to tell your mommy on you? Alex: Well, I haven't told her yet. Zahra: Oh, gee, kid! I'm sorry to interrupt your process of becoming, but you're the one who decided to put your dick into the heir to the British throne! Henry: Technically, I'm the spare. Zahra: Not talking to you, sir!

Alex: I've been thinking. Henry: I seriously doubt that. Alex (mockingly): "I seriously doubt that."

Alex: We can figure out a way to love each other on our own terms. It's like there's a rope attached to my chest, and it keeps pulling me towards you. And it feels so right.

Henry: I'm gonna let you say what you need to say and then I'd like you to leave. Alex: What's going on, Henry? A week ago, we were happy and then you disappear without saying a word? I think you at least owe me an explanation. Henry: I have done nothing but explain myself to you this past year. I don't know what more you want me to say and I don't appreciate you barging in here in the middle of the night. Alex: Oh, I'm sorry I can't turn my feelings off as easily as you. Henry: D-Do you honestly think this is easy for me? Alex: What else am I supposed to think? You won't talk to me. All I know is I'm the one here willing to fight for us. Henry: Because it costs you nothing! Alex: I've been losing my mind this week because the man I love has vanished from my life without an explanation. I flew across an ocean. I… I stormed a fucking castle to look you in the eye and tell you that I love you, knowing that you wouldn't say it back. So, no, Henry, in fact, this is costing me everything. And if this is over, I, at least, deserve to know why. Henry: Oh, for Christ's sake, Alex! For once, I wish you could see me for who I am and not who you want me to be. Sometimes I don't think you know me at all. I'm not like you. I can't afford to be reckless. I wasn't raised by a loving, supportive family like you were. I have centuries of history bearing down on my shoulders. My life is the crown and yours is politics, and I will not trade one prison for another. I can love you and want you and… and still not want that life. I'm allowed. All right? And it doesn't make me a liar. It makes me a man with some infinitesimal shred of self-preservation, and you don't get to come in here and call me a coward for it. Alex: I would never call you a coward. We can figure out a way to love each other on our own terms, no one else's. Henry: That is simply impossible, and you know it. Alex: Fine. I'll leave. And you can live in your tower and protect your heart for the rest of your life, and nothing will ever happen to you. But, Henry… nothing will ever happen to you. So, if you want me to go, you have to tell me to leave. Henry: Please… don't make me. Alex: It's the only way you're getting rid of me. Because I would never leave this room if I didn't think there was any hope of holding on to the happiness that I have found with you. And if you think otherwise, then you don't know me. So tell me to go, Henry, and I promise I will walk out that door and trouble you no longer.

Henry: Please be patient with me, and I promise I will try and be brave for us. Because when they write the history of my life, I want it to include you and my love for you. Alex: History, huh? Bet we could make some.

Henry: I want you to have some part of me… until you can have all of me again. Alex: Now we're even. I love you. I'll be as patient as you need.

Alex: What was taken from us this week was our right to determine for ourselves how and when we should share our relationship and queer identities with the world. The truth is, every queer person has the right to come out on their own terms and on their own timeline. They also have the right to choose not to come out at all. The forced conformity of the closet cannot be answered with forced conformity in coming out of it. This isn't about shame. This is about privacy and the fundamental right of self-determination, which are exactly the principles on which the struggle for queer liberation has always been fought. But there is another truth that's much simpler: I fell in love with a person who happens to be a man, and that man happens to be a prince. He has captured my heart and made my life immeasurably better. I love His Royal Highness, Prince Henry George Edward James Hanover-Stuart Fox. I hope one day, we'll have the opportunity to be public about our relationship on our own terms. Thank you.

#red white and royal blue #rwrb quotes

[autisticandroids]

tw mentions of transphobia homophobia racism and bullying, here's my ramble

what if i cant make amends? i made amends before, i fucked up with the person again, i fucked up , badly, i acted bigotted and i regret it now, for real this time. and i decided at that time to cut that person off from my life. simply because keeping that cycle of "im sorry, i fuck up again" was unhealthy. i think that making amends with people is needed if and only if the person comes to you for explanation - and apologies.

i think about bojack horseman's apologies episode - but he ended up hurting everyone. it's not because he simply didnt mean it - but also because he showed up, impromptuly, in the life of people he hurt and didn't want to hear about him, ever.

now to say i fucked up as badly as him - but the guilt i feel is there, and this impresion of "what the fuck are you doing back in my life, go away' the people we hurt in the past have - is real.

the internet crowd also - wouldn't be happy about making a donation to a cause. for example - imagine you used to act transphobic or homophobic or racist, and you decide to make a donation to an association. no matter the amount, people will say "you're just performing" or "what, only x dollars? arent you (job)?"

that's why attonement feels impossible, no matter what you do, it's not possible to feel 100 percents healed from the past, because you never will.

voicing your regrets, striving for the best, treating the next people better, being kinder isn't ignoring closure from the past.it's quite moving on from it. i know pretty much so many people who told me they wouldn't want to deal with me again because of views i had, actions i made in the past. with those situations, how am i supposed to "atone for my sins" where i must respect the boundaries those people set, aka "get out from my life"? i can only carry regret in me.

it's good to note that i made those awful life choices when i was between age 17 and 19, i have identity disturbance problems and acted like a sponge to bad influences. getting cancelled is something i fear but that i'd honestly roll with "yeah that just happened, i'm sorry for everything" which is honestly the bare minimum - but at the same time, you can never ever appease everyone.

i remember once someone who bullied me apologized to me, i felt nothing. so when someone fucks up badly, making amends is useless, it's just self serving, because what tells that the victim will actually accept your apology? what if it sinks them down further?

i don't know how comfortable i am answering this ask. it asks me to solve a problem that i'm not really qualified to solve, or frankly able to solve with the information you've given me. i am just a rando on the internet and you should not be treating me as an authority figure.

that said, you are clearly in the middle of the kind of anxious death spiral that is both destructive to yourself and useless for any kind of self-improvement, so... my attempt is under the cut.

i mean, you have to seriously consider whether an attempt to apologize will do anything for the other person - maybe it will, maybe it won't, that's on a case by case basis. i'm not the person to ask about that. i do think in most cases that a properly non-self-centered apology probably won't hurt. but that's just my opinion, i'm not god. it's something you have to decide for yourself. i don't peddle redemption arcs.

but primarily like. the thing you need to do is learn your lesson and then Move On Dot Org. don't wallow, just learn, accept, and live with. it actually doesn't benefit anyone for you to hurt yourself.

now, obviously, there are some things you can do which i think should bar you from being or having certain types of authority.

for a rather small, petty example, i can think of one person i know who was a bully in high school and deeply regretted it, but then got deeply into the "callout witch hunt" side of tumblr social justice and replicated their old bullying behaviors pretty closely, but this time just in a way where they could have it fit with their code of ethics. so like, "i believe i have the right to decide who should be harassed over a callout" is a kind of authority to grant yourself, and i am kind of ambivalent on anyone having that authority, but also specifically That person should not have had it, because they just used it to satisfy their desire to put other people down in a "more ethical" way.

so like. it is more effective to strip yourself of certain types of authority than to punish yourself. if you don't have the right to decide whether people deserve cruelty, you cannot be cruel to them. but this is not a punishment, it's simply a loss of certain privileges.

and things like "being happy," "having friends," "having a nice time playing video games" are all rights you shouldn't have taken away as a result of past behavior. but "presenting yourself as an authority on a topic," "being involved with one specific person," and "making money off your reputation online" are all privileges you might potentially want to strip yourself of if your past behavior showed that you can't be trusted with them. again, this is not a punishment, and is not intended to induce misery - it is simply a reasonable precaution.

and also, with respect to being cancelled or not - do not worry about this. that doesn't really have anything to do with you. get thicker skin. if someone tries to cancel you and they are more popular than you, you will be cancelled. if they are less popular than you, they will be cancelled. whether a cancellation is successful is purely a product of social power and is unrelated to morals. my recommendation is to make peace with the fact that if you live your life in public people will sometimes hate you. this is their problem, but also it's their right. you can't stop them and i would go so far as to say you shouldn't try. they can't do anything to you unless they doxx you, which probably won't happen unless you're really famous. or they can take your internet income stream away if you have one. the best way to defend against this is to have a real job.

#asks #anonymous

[mirabaiidabaddiee]

Professor: alright girls time to PICK AND CHOOSE, Sianna and Tara your up first, Jaylani I’ll let you choose last since tomorrow’s your special day, we save the best for last and we want you feel as lucky as possible

Sianna: yes sir! Tara let’s close our eyes and choose

Tara: oh gosh, we always end up choosing the ones we don’t want, it’s always duplicated somehow

Sianna: hmm, very true. Although we already know which is which and their powers, I think it’s time we just deal with it 😂

Tara: I’ll choose you since you are a very independent young flower 😌

Sianna: aww thanks bestie, I’ll choose you since you are very resilient young lady 😚😚

Tara: girl you know how much I love you ☺️✨

Professor: it looks like the last one is also Sianna, jaylani it’s your turn to take your idol

Jaylani: b-but wait! Why don’t I have an idol by now, I’m old enough and I haven’t gotten in any trouble in 2 years and you know that professor, is something wrong, did I do something?

Professor: there must be a mix up, I swear I put an action figure of you there also jay, I’m sorry but I guess you’ll have to be Sianna again

Jaylani: this just sucks, you know how badly I want someone to look up to me and cherish me, why does something always have to happen

Tara: ugh here comes the water works, jaylani it’s time to be honest with you sweetheart 🙄, nobody wants to be you because your a loser! Nobody will ever-

Professor: Tara that’s enough, you don’t want me taking away your figure and cancelling your traders do you?

Tara: who’s gonna be honest with her then and tell her that nobody wants to be her!

Jaylani: well you know what the fuck is gonna happen, I’m just going to sit here and cry like I always do since nobody takes my damn complaints seriously, they never will

Professor: Jay you are overthinking this, just think about all the other times you’ll get a chance to represent the neighborhood with a figure with your face on it, wouldn’t that feel great

Sianna: Jay it’s gonna be okay, what’s wrong with wanting to be me, I’m the one who put us three together in the first place, I hold a lot of power in this community

Jaylani: but I want to love myself and I want to see myself just like how you’ve seen yourself for the past decade

Sianna: you don’t need a doll to justify your self value jaylani, please lock that in your head, a doll isn’t important to your entire existence and it won’t matter in a few years

Jaylani: I hear the same shit all the time, how the fuck am I supposed to believe it’s true

#short story #powerpuff girls #made up stories #cookie

[ottiliere]

by: lindsay dane davestriderdeathcult4568 and lucy ottiliere

prefacing this by stating the obvious but i know this guy. like this archetype of individual is just so absolutely a guy that exists in droves this guy crawls out of spawnpoints in dirty smokey rooms in literally probably the same apartment complex i live in i think its hilarious and basically am fully qualified to be writing about him. he hasnt known anything better than any of this, probably doesnt think it exists, and more than likely doesnt deserve to experience any of it.

like a solid 30% of this guys conversations with any underage person he's around in public are trying to get them to dip. everyone says he smokes and hey you know what they're probably right but he absolutely dips more than he smokes and he absolutely does classique peer pressure on high schoolers to take some if hes ever in a situation where one is stuck with him. as previously addressed he likes skoal. because the packaging looks like shit. if he does smoke he rolls his own.

terrible skin has not used sunscreen a day in his life spends a lot of time outside in the open sun and totally looks like it you know what this looks like if you know what this looks like. once he thought he had skin cancer and he cut it out himself. it was probably just a mole or something. part of the reason his hair is so stringy and thin is because he doesn't take care of himself, part is because his scalp has been sunburned to shit. the hat isn't an ego thing he isn't insecure about this he just likes it. important to note seriously this guy is basically psychologically incapable of being embarrassed self conscious or ashamed of anything.

absolutely does speed absolutely does speed i no longer have the image of the fucking milk gallon jug of whatever psycho shit that was being advertised at truckers but i think this guy puts it in his cereal for breakfast. does not sleep longer than 20 mins or so at a time, he gets true rem sleep once a week or something maybe. like the idea of having worked as a trucker in the past, that line of work would suit him.

ketamine………like sure coke absolutely coke, but ketamine…….could see it in him to do ketamine. more importantly meth. absolutely meth. maybe not super often when he's younger, but that's where he's headed. i imagine in his early 30'sish is when he gets really bad about this specifically. this is the time shit stops being fun for him fullstop and all of the shit hes been gnawing on psychologically speaking to keep himself from going apeshit gets boring. parallel to canon he was just not supposed to live this long. so he implodes. and does a lot of meth. becomes completely incapable of caring for himself and spirals. you've seen that.

thinks conspiracy theories are funny, so he pretends to believe them. when he's younger this is kind of interesting in a way, because it's easier to tell sometimes that it's a joke of a kind to him. as he gets older it's less easy to tell, and more concerning. i'm not talking about cute conspiracy theories btwlike im thinking like 4chan coffee enema jewish tummy worm removal shit like this guy is unwell.

probably indifferent to weed. its whatever. smokes absolute mid dogshit ass weed from a ass trashcan. says it has no effect on him. it mostly doesnt but thats probably because its dogshit weed.

have a very specific vision of his body type i think it was REREREDACTED who drew the like closest possible but still significantly less repulsive vision of him. he's not filled out buff he's stringy and kindof shredded which is entirely a different thing and altogether much more diseased looking. even resting you can see the outline of muscle under skin NOT because his muscles are oversized just because there's so little between it and the skin. his eyes are sunken in. i imagine that hes one of those dudes whos absolutely partially deaf but somehow hears fucking everything. average height.

[CSA cw] hasnt done anything ever at all for a bit. it's all 100% genuine. that said i feel like a lot of the sexual abuse he does is so outright and casual that it's almost comical like if your older brother gropes you walking down the hall what do you even do about that. it was only a second so OBVIOUSLY for the lulz right.

[CSA cw] this is also obviously a conditioning thing but first and foremost it is miserable. also important to note i dont think it is INTENTIONALLY a conditioning thing. i dont think he is a groomer in the manipulative or the "aware of what's going on" sense. i think the most manipulative things he would do would function similarly to all the little inside jokes of his existence; they're not manipulations, they're not jokes, they're pure expressions of himself. i think his self awareness is inverted; instead of covering him like a blanket, it acts as a foundation for a more direct understanding of self. and the foundation is cracked why did anyone stop saying biatch that shit is so funny sorry im listening to a song the way mac miller says biatch is so funny and awesome. bringing this back.

i don't think he talks really at all. i think he avoids talking at all hes really into pointing and grunting in various tones but hes the type who would feel it in his throat the day after if he held a proper conversation with someone. theres just a lot about social interaction he thinks he isnt a part of. it isnt that he doesnt observe it or isnt aware of it but similar to his counterpart he just cant bring himself to think of any "rules" as applying to him. on a level that is pure subconscious he cant fathom that he is a human at all, so any self interpretation or self expression of course will be influenced by this.

doesn't sit still ever, even when he does. twitchy fidgety and easy to frustrate. i envision him as being violently ocd basically, to an extent that makes him kind of cartoonish. like he doesn't have severe ocd so much as he exemplifies the effects of long term severe ocd when it's left untreated; he's like this with all the symptoms he manifests because when i write him and think about him im working mostly conceptually. hes a good representative character and i think hes at his best when this is the role hes filling.

like to think that his indifference and lack of connection to anything of any meaning in the world has been almost lifelong. the result of neglect and abuse itself, sure, but more importantly i think he is like this because he is drastically understimulated. there's nothing to do that interests him, no one worth talking to, nothing. not just a sadist but a compulsive one. i imagine that at some point he has seen someone OD. was not his fault but he was just not all that affected by it; thick skinned to the point that it's concerning. avoiding saying things like psychopath here because i feel like that doesn't quite suit what i'm getting at. he is, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, extremely unselfaware. so much of what he does is route action, muscle memory with no conscious process to it. even the performance of self awareness is nothing.

this is a big part of how i see him as a sexual predator specifically. it is just something he does compulsively, a repeated whim he follows. there's not a lot else to it. at least not in his mind

should go without saying but any "irony" playing he does is basically bullshit nothing to mess with people. like of course it is. there is virtually nothing genuine to be found 300% of his goals are to fuck with people; likes feeling smart and one upping others, likes feeling socially dominant, isn't smart or in possession of enough capital to ACTUALLY engender these feelings so he makes do with bad stupid elaborate jokes. its a craft

i kind of enjoy him as this backgroundless enigma i will be honest. like he turned out so revolting and who knows why. that's not my business. he functions better as a concept made manifest. it mirrors canon ofc but it also makes him horrifying by way of how can this happen. the same way people wonder about this shit in real life and it can simply never be answered no one will ever know.

although… the most important part of bros history to me is, specifically, the decline of his mental state due to cal. overarching view of his upbringing is that it would've been dismal and cal the telepathic puppet who spews garbage into his brain 24/7 does not a good man make. i base this off a very specific character study by the meat machine on ao3 that goes into this very concept. mind-blowing for both of us. the magic of cal on his brain… kind of can't resist thinking about it. like HOW did the decline happen. literally brain poison i imagine it functions similarly to how people fall into holes of like. suddenly doing a ton of hard shit and the next thing you hear theyre believing birds are spies and shit. schizophenic in nature. hes so misdiagnosable but the truth is there's just something wrong with him and there's nothing even to do about it. he's doomed to be this way forever. COSMIC ALIGNMENT. the burnout from this if he doesnt die super young would be insane like just horrifying absolutely miserable. thinking about the state hed be in at the point dave makes his very smart adult man exodus back home that he handles so well. like. nightmare.

#bro strider #opining #light csa mention #<- this is about dave. as a heads up #i have marked the paragraphs accordingly if you wanna skim them #drug use

[waitmyturtles]

Okay, I’ll try to be quick about this. I’ll do it in list form to set some ground rules and get my analysis going.

(I am arguably very frustrated overall about what I’m about to write, because of how excellent The Eighth Sense was, and watching this was just a bit of a downer, man.)

1) I will own that at this point, I might be the only The Promise apologist on this site. I might have led friends astray at this show. For that, I offer a 90-degree wai of apology. I gotta check the tag, but I wouldn’t be surprised. 

(Senpai @respectthepetty...I’ll watch The Shipper as self-punishment.) 

2) Yes, Phu DEFINITELY sucks. BUT, there’s a but that I’ll get to in a sec.

3) For the first time in this show, I am actually frustrated by the pace. 

4) Party definitely rules, Mr. Sassy.

Alright, all that out of the way, get ready to hear why, once more, even I surprise myself by saying, I STILL like this show, but we’re on shakier ground. The Promise, episode 7, here we go:

We’ve now established two social rules by which Nan and Phu operate: 

a) Phu is afraid of loss, 100%. He’s scarred by his father’s death, and doesn’t want to lose anymore people in his life, especially his best friend. 

(HOW that equated to him RUNNING AWAY for 10 YEARS is STILL unclear to me, but I SUPPOSE that if Nan can STILL wait for an answer, then WE, as the audience, are expected to wait, TOO, which I THINK, dear director Khom Kongkiat/Uncle Tong, is ASKING a little MUCH of US, BUT ANYWAY)

b) Nan has said this shit in the past and present about how he wants FRIENDS, and separates that from LOVERS. And Phu is all up in his confusion about that.

I mean, I think I can get that those are legitimate reasons why Phu continues to hold back from revealing his truth to Nan.

But, fuckin’ GO PARTY. Party is like.... what the fuck, dude? Just come out and say it!

AND: Party put himself out there! He put himself out on the line! He revealed himself to Nan! Nan rejected him. But guess what? They’re still gonna be friends! PHU SAW ALL THAT!

Will Phu NOT be satisfied IF Nan rejects him? I mean, Phu will be sad, but... can’t they be like Party and Nan, and still be friends? NO? 

On the one hand, I say: WHAT THE FUCK? Phu -- you are REALLY hyping this up! Why should everything be 100% with you?

On the other hand, I say: My socio-emotional read is that because Phu experienced the death of a loved one at an early age, things might HAVE to be 100% with him. 

I just don’t know if Uncle Tong is weaving this complicated and emotional story as well as he could be at this point. I don’t know how efficient each episode is at selling the skincare. I absolutely loved the focus on the coffee farm and the process of the beans and everything. I love, love those slices of village life. It very much harkens to P’Khom’s actual role in Bad Buddy, and obviously goes to show how much he wants to profile these slices of Thai village life. I love those parts.

But at this point, as I said last week, we’ve waited too long. We need clarity. I get we have three episodes at an hour each, but the pace has now started to drag. I love what this show gives by way of a respect of the rural life these guys come from, but the imbalance is there among Devonte commercials/life in Chiang Mai/Granny and how she’s there to explain who Phu really is/Nan’s patience. 

It’s not quite working anymore. I’m gonna stick out this show, because who knows if Uncle Tong can give us a huge and surprise ending, and there are only three episodes left, anyway.

But seriously, Nan is getting fuckin’ seriously played, and like, I think Phu is not as dumb as he’s being written. Maybe Phu’s read is that he thinks Nan is a lot stronger than Nan actually is. I don’t know. I just don’t know why Phu would play his homey like this for SO LONG. WHY DID PHU COME BACK, ONLY TO ATTEMPT TO RUN AWAY AGAIN. 

Yes, you’re held back by your demons, but -- maybe it would have been best if Phu had just permanently stayed away. 

Come on, Uncle Tong. PLEASE clean up this mess. I HAVE HOPE.

#the promise #the promise meta #nan x phu #phu x nan #i think i'm sticking with this show in part because the leads have EXCELLENT chemistry #i like both of them as actors very much #and i really love the chiang mai parts #very ATOTS of the show #but seriously #phu doesn't not realize what a fuckboi he is #it's ENOUGH #ENOUGH ALREADY #GIVE US SOME TRUTH UNCLE TONG #you were all about truth in BBS #just #COME ON ALREADY

[thatwasthenightthingschanged]

rant beneath the cut

I just feel so. mentally exhausted. like I thought I looked forward to my internship being over but then I had a couple of days off this week and I just noticed that without work occupying me/my mind 40hrs a week I'm just deteriorating. I just feel sad all the time and I don't know why. and like I know I have to let myself feel my feelings to get through them but whenever I try to they just drown me out like logically my body should be made to be able to deal with all kinds of emotions but mine just. can't. and then I met up w my best friend for the first time in two months at the beginning of the week & she's really stressed out and has been for the past two years and I get that she has a huge exam coming up in the fall but it's like. it's been two years since I've genuinely told her how I'm feeling & I can't cope without her support. and I wanted to tell her how crappy I've been doing but then she said yeah I've got no emotional capacities for other ppl's struggles at the moment which again I GET but I've repeatedly told her, even without making self-deprecating jokes, that I'm feeling crappy and she never asks me why or what's going on. or even worse she says stuff like "everyone just gets diagnosed with depression nowadays" (when I told her that's the diagnosis I got from a licensed therapist) or "everyone has a life crisis at this age" (when I told her how I'm struggling with one) and it feels so dismissive like at this point what am I supposed to do so she takes how crappy I'm feeling seriously??? k-word myself???? and like I see how she keeps showing up for all her other friends who are struggling mentally, and she listens to them and takes them seriously so I just don't get why she constantly dismisses my feelings?? and this has been going on for two years and I just feel so fucking alone because I don't have anyone to talk to, all my close friends don't live close to me, and my best friend doesn't have time for my feelings and I don't have any fucking real friends in this town and I just don't know what to do anymore

[strigital]

hey there, handsome beans. how are y'all?

bet y'all were wondering where tf Meg's gone again. to make long and complicated story short: a few physical illnesses followed by a severe mental crysis followed by more sickness followed by more mental problems. there was, among other things, an autistic breakdown which as we know doesn't go away easily. i will be severely honest with you guys. i do not know how i am still alive, given how horribly suicidal some of these days are. i suppose having pets does make a difference - no matter how selfish the suicidal ideation is it never manages to overpower the motherly need to love and protect these small creatures that so wholly depend on you not just for food, water and shelter, but for companionship as well… Belle, despite having only been out of shelter for like three moths, has been working her little butt off trying her damnest to convince me that i am needed: from following me everywhere like a shadow to crying like a child whenever there's a closed door between us… anyways, what was i talking about? ah yes… the horrific state both my mind a body ended up in. i honestly have no idea where this all came from. it was like one day it was sunny and calm and the next morning i woke up in the aftermath of a severe hurricane, ruin and corpses all around me. perhaps it was all brewing for a long time and i simply failed to notice the telltale signs. after all, there's no smoke without fire. there must've been a trigger. a final drop, a straw that broke the camel's back. sometimes it felt like a horror film, full of terrible thoughts and feelings that paralise you in a fetal position in the corner of your bed and keep you there hostage for days on end. some other days there would be flashes of unexplainable happiness that lasted barely a few hours and left you feeling panicked. most days there would be this prevailing feeling of numbness that wouldn't allow you to eat, let alone take care of daily chores. i've been having severe nightmares. i've plunged my body into a state of starvation. i've turned my home into a horror house of dirt and clutter. i'm failing behind in college and my boss at work is extremely unhappy with my productivity. i've lost ability to feel time: days muddle together, all i ever feel is a desire to sleep all the fucking time.

worst of all is that i cut contact with my closest people, among them - my dearly beloved husband, who still fights cancer on the other side of the planet, wondering where his useless wife gone. i've decided that it would be better for all of them, especially my hubby, to not see me in this condition. that the best i can do for them is to remove myself from their already busy lives and free them from any heartache i may cause, me being out of my mind and all. i did, however, used the very last of my strenght to reach out, to try and call for help… the suicide prevention line was a fucking joke that left me even more desperate than i was before i contacted them. i did, however, join a local autistic group on facebook and lurked there quietly, absorbing their experiences and sifting through for any sliver of hope. and i foud it. a doctor, who may just be the only specialist on adult autism in this entire country. getting an appointment with her was a small war in of itself. and she will cost me a lot of money… but as of right now i feel like she is the only person who can pull me off of the edge, before i tumble over and plummet into the abbyss. 29th of november i will sit my ass on a train and ride to another city to meet her. i pray to whatever will listen that she will take me seriously because neither my current psychiatrist nor my psychologist do. anyone i tried talking to these past two months on the matter of my crisis never offered me any help, only useless advice like "you should talk to a priest" or "have you tried reading a self-help book?". i'm drowning over here, karen, a priest and a book will only be of use during my funeral… the meds have become useless, even when i double or triple dosage.

most of all my heart aches for my husband. he tried calling me a few times yet i was too broken and lost in the dark to even have the courage to call back. i know i have no right to scream for help to a person who had been at war with a third stage cancer for almost three long difficult years. but i am teethering on the edge. i feel like that tiny hedghehog from an old soviet cartoon - lost in a thick fog, calling out for someone, anyone, looking for a way out. and the fact that no one understands or tries to understand hurts even more. the only one's who do are those anonymous people on facebook, fighting similar battles to mine. and when i read a letter from an anonymous mom who, like me, reached her breaking point and cut off any contact with her family in preparation for a final act and she only writes on facebook to find someone, anyone, to tell her what she truly needs and wants to hear in order to swerve off of this path of self-destruction i cannot help but feel an odd likeness to hope. i am not alone. but these people, those like me, simply do not exist within an arm's reach… god almighty, i so so hope the doctor will fix me. i am so tired waking up everyday with a desperate desire to die and walking all day with an invisible noose on my neck which only grows tighter every day.

i will go now and try to record a longwinded voice message for my husband… again. i will try my bestest to apologise, to try to explain, to ask for help. but how do you even begin to explain that your life so suddenly, so abruptly and seemingly our of nowhere became an open bleeding rotten sore, that only grows everyday, infecting more and more of your soul? i don't know. i never had this kind of crisis before in my life and, as if by some cruel divine joke, right now i have no family, no friends to turn to, beside my cat and my dog.

i will not ask of you to pray for me nor wish me luck. y'all have your own busy, messy lives. i only ask that you take care of yourself and your loved ones, so nothing like that ever happens to you or them. trust me when i say that no one will believe you, because this wound is invisible. they will tell you to feel grateful for having two arms and two legs and a roof over your head. meanwhile you will slowly rot away until one day they'll gasp: "how did this happen? they were such a happy person, nothing was wrong in their lives!" that's so fucking unfair, but it is the world we live in. and i know that oversharing like this on the internet is an incredibly stupid thing to do, but… i don't know. maybe another person with similar hardships in their life will read this and realise that they are not the black sheep of the human species and that shit like that happens to others too. i know this thought brings some very mild comfort to me, so maybe it will also brings some to them.

so stay strong, my beans. god knows i'm trying to. love you all and, hopefully, see you in the near future again with memes and stuff,

-- Meg K.

#personal #update #autism