#10 years ago a terrible awful thing happened and i remember just feeling. Stuck. that i would have to live with this terrible awful thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imaginethoseguys · 3 years

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Liquid Courage

Hi, I need to submit a seminar paper in 10 days so naturally I wrote this 3k+ fic for Itadori Yuji girl, bye

Pairing: Itadori Yuji x fem!S/O Word count: 3.3k Warnings: fluff, drinking, drunk confessions, slight angst, au motifs Summary: No matter the chosen activity, Yuji would be equally excited to simply spend time with her. He didn’t even need her to reciprocate his feelings. He felt comfortable in his lovable bubbly state, and she most likely loved him as a friend, so all was well. Trying to take things further would be a risky move anyway and he would not dare take his chances at the expense of making things worse between them because the last thing he would ever want is to make her upset or uncomfortable. He still remembered all her stories about friendships she inescapably lost after the “I need to tell you something” texts in the middle of the night from guys who she felt comfortable enough to be herself with.

Yup, no way that was happening. a/n: Itadori's in his 20s (as well as s/o)

gif credit

It wasn’t Yuji who offered to spend the Friday night at a bar. He didn’t enjoy drinking that much, and there was some weird old movie at the local theatre that they could watch and make fun of together. But it was an unusual occasion, they were on a week-long mission, dealing with curse activity in Osaka, and, well, it was her who asked, so of course he agreed. He never went against her suggestions, he trusted her fully, maybe even too much. Possibly, it was her way with words. Somehow, she knew exactly what to say in situations where Yuji often found himself at loss for words. She was reliable and reassuring and had a certain kind of warmness to her.

Or, possibly, it was Yuji’s six-years-long crush on her that had him blushing and hyperventilating at anything she did, so opinions were divided on this one.

No matter the chosen activity, Yuji would be equally excited to simply spend time with her. He didn’t even need her to reciprocate his feelings. He felt comfortable in his lovable bubbly state, and she most likely loved him as a friend, so all was well. Trying to take things further would be a risky move anyway and he would not dare take his chances at the expense of making things worse between them because the last thing he would ever want is to make her upset or uncomfortable. He still remembered all her stories about friendships she inescapably lost after the “I need to tell you something” texts in the middle of the night from guys with who she felt comfortable enough to be herself. Yup, no way that was happening.

“Oh, look, they have homemade plum wine!” her exclamation brought Yuji’s attention back to reality. “And it’s in pitchers too. Lucky!”

“You do remember you can’t hold your liquor, right?” he said, propping his face on his right hand while watching her mumble giddily “plum wine and soda, plum wine and soda.” She lowered the laminated menu sheet and leveled him with an annoyed gaze.

“I am a grown young woman who earns a living by exorcising curses, I’m pretty sure I can handle a glass or two, Yuji .”

“Including that time when you threw up on Fushiguro mid-conversation?”

“That was graduation! And we did shots.”

“Yeah, it was also 7pm.”

“Enough of you, mister.” She threateningly pointed a finger at him and turned around to call the waiter. Receiving an acknowledging nod in return, she turned back. “Besides, if we’re talking about you, everyone is terrible at holding their liquor in comparison.”

“I’m just heavyweight.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“You’re just a beast machine who suppressed the King of Curses and can run 50 meters in 3 seconds,” she shook her head at her own description, “no wonder you’re Special Grade. Why do you bother drinking at all? Pretty sure it does nothing to you.”

“I don’t do it on my own. I like the company.” He said timidly.

“Aw, see? This is why I love you.”

Yuji’s eyes widened unintentionally, but she didn’t look at him long enough to see it, her attention swiftly taken away by an approaching waiter. He assured himself he was better at controlling his feelings, but it was all falling apart now, like a bunch of lies, because he could feel his entire face and ears pulsate from heat. He stared at the way her lips moved, making the order.

as a friend as a friend as a friend as a friend as a friend

“Yuji? Yuji!”

He snapped back, looking even more surprised.

“You wanted the Ginjo-Shu, right?”

His gaze lingered on her face, open and bright, with eyebrows slightly raised.

“Yeah.”

This is fine.

* * *

“Ah, see? This is exactly what I was talking about.”

Yuji furrowed his eyes helplessly and took the glass from her hand. She tried to down her drink in one motion but missed and spilled it over herself. Looking back now, he wasn’t sure if it was her being lightweight or her not stopping in time.

“When did that even happen,” he mumbled to himself, “she was fine a minute ago.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” she moaned in drunk annoyance, “because I am here.”

“So it seems,” Yuji smiled.

“And I may be many things, but there’s one thing that I am not, and it is deaf. Or stupid.”

“Yup, that’s two things though.”

She sighed loudly and leaned back on the wooden wall of their booth. They were surrounded by soft mixes of white noise: distant frying and sizzling from the kitchen, clinking of glasses, and giddy discussions of the upcoming weekend. They could almost feel like they belonged here, to the normal crowd of Osaka drinking their weekly stresses away, complaining about their bosses, bills, and personal dramas.

Is that what it’s like to be normal? Both of them thought.

Yuji looked over at her and felt the heat returning to his cheeks. This drink spill felt too deliberate to be accidental. And her bra was very thin, and the bar’s AC was on and—

Yuji groaned and swiftly took his hoodie off, almost throwing it in her direction.

“Wear this, please.”

She didn’t really fight it and slowly put it over her head, beginning to crawl inside. She stopped somewhere in the middle and breathed in.

Ah, it smells so good. Smells like him.

She pressed the fabric into her face, taking in his scent. When did he manage to put on cologne? That’s just unfair.

“You okay in there? Are you stuck?�� Yuji looked questionably at the wrinkly bundle that was now his hoodie with her somewhere inside.

“Listen, Yuji.”

“You’re just gonna talk to me like this, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured in a soft voice. “I know this isn’t how you would spend your night, but—I wanted to—you know. But in the end, I just—and—”

Suddenly, she felt a gentle tug, and her head popped out of the hoodie, revealing Yuji’s face lightened by a warm smile.

“I told you, I like the company.”

There was a needle prick somewhere around her heart, and she pressed her lips together, taken by a sudden wave of sadness.

“Let’s get back, yeah?”

* * *

Their hotel wasn’t far from the bar, but due to her condition, the walk back took longer than usual. Summer was ending, the air was still warm, but there was a tingling coldness with each wind blow, a careful reminder of the approaching grey sky and smell of wet concrete, covered by tired leaves.

The path to the hotel entrance was hidden among the sleeping quarters, illuminated by floor lights, and framed by tall bamboo sticks. Yuji walked first and was right in front of the automatic sliding doors when he stopped and turned around to check on her. Instead of right behind him, he saw her at the beginning of the entrance path with her head down.

“Hm? Are you okay? Wait, are you sick?? Then stay right there, if you wanna throw up, do it—um—” he swiftly looked around. Seeing a gardening pot near one of the doors across the street, he pointed at it. “Here, maybe in this pot? Wait, no, this is a nice neighborhood, imagine waking up and finding vomit in your plants… ah, maybe in this bamboo? I’m not sure if it’s real though… ah, but this hotel allows hosting of jujutsu sorcerers because the owner is a friend of someone from the higher-ups, and if we vomit here—"

“Yuji.”

“Oh, maybe vomit in my t-shirt? And I’ll carry it to the nearest dumpster? No, that’s a horrible idea. Are you sure you can’t hold it until we get to our room? Then—”

“I’m not sick, Yuji!” she said loudly, maybe even too much so. “Although all this vomit talk is grossing me out.”

Yuji raised his eyebrows. “Then what’s wrong? Wait, did drinking uncover your hidden phobia of hotels? I read that somewhere…”

She smiled sadly. “You’re such an idiot.”

He bared his teeth, clearly offended. “Well, I’m sorry for trying to be helpful! Jeez, if you can’t walk – just say so, I’ll carry you to our room.”

“I don’t want to go to our room!” she yelled again. Yuji’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t say anything.

“Because then we go to sleep, come back to Tokyo and—I—” She squeezed the hem of his hoodie, “and I’ll never get another chance.”

There’s a short silence after her outburst. Yuji glanced over her hands that were clenched in fists and looked to the side.

“I mean, it’s not like this is our only chance to visit Osaka, we can always book a vacation and come back here.”

“Huh? Who cares about Osaka? It's—”

“I’m not very smart,” he interrupted her quietly, “so you’ll need to be straight with me, otherwise I won’t understand what you mean.” Then, his voice got even quieter. “Or I’ll start imagining things that aren’t real.”

“Yuji, I—” she tried to speak fast, because she felt a betraying lump in her throat, “I never wanted to drag you into a bar. There was this old movie at the local theatre that we could have watched, but I—If I didn’t drink, I would have never gotten the strength to say the things that I’ve been meaning to say for a long-long time. And this trip felt like a perfect opportunity, and you’re right, I’m a lightweight and I overdid it, and I was so close to saying it, but I thought—I cherish you so, so much , Yuji, it hurts me to even think about it. I tried to tell you before, after graduation, but you distanced yourself from me that night, so I figured it was a bad idea. I still think it is, but I—Yuji, I—”

Yuji shortened the distance between them with a desperately fast sprint and grabbed her with both of his hands, squeezing her so tight that she could barely talk anymore, her face pressed into his chest. He was silent for a bit.

“I distanced myself from you during the graduation night because you looked so vulnerable. I thought you were doing things you would regret the next day, so I didn’t want to take advantage. Because when you’re like this with me, I,” his hands trembled, “It’s so hard for me not to be selfish.”

“Wait, Yuji,” she tried to move away from him, but no matter how hard she pushed, she would never win Yuji in a battle of strength. “Please, let me finish.”

“No,” he sounded uncharacteristically serious. He lowered his head and pressed his cheek to her forehead. “When you say that this is not the way I would spend my night… You can invite me to dumpster dive or read books about molecular physics in a public library, or lick poles in winter, and I’ll choose it over anything else. When I found out we would go on this mission together, I was so happy. I can be doing the grossest, most stupid, and pointless things, but if I’m with you – it would be the best way to spend all the time I have. I hate being alone, and it's all I ever felt for so many years of life. But when I met you—when I’m with you – I feel so warm. You make me forget about the bad stuff. When you’re next to me, I—I feel wanted. So please,” his hands weakened his grab on her frame, letting her lean back and catch a glimpse of his face. “Please, don’t give me false hopes.”

Their breaths were hot and shaky as they looked each other in the eyes, hypnotised by each other’s presence. She cautiously moved closer to him and cupped his cheeks. Yuji swallowed thickly, he had to stop himself, but her hand was soft and warm, and the number of times he dreamt about this exact moment didn’t let him move an inch of his body. She raised herself on her tiptoes and leaned to his lips. She smelled so sweet, and her body was so close to his that—

“Ghh, stop,” Yuji groaned and pressed his forehead to hers in agony.

“Why?” She asked breathlessly, “you don’t want this?”

“ No ! I mean, yes. God, I want this so much my head could explode, b-but,” he leaned back slightly, revealing his glowing red face, from the neck to the tips of his ears. “You’re drunk, and we’re tired and I,” he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “I want this to be right. If you wake up tomorrow and don’t remember any of this, I—”

“Stop talking,” she moaned and pulled him back by the fabric of his t-shirt, crushing her lips into his, arms then moving up to snake around his neck. Yuji had to resist. He had to, but when she touched him like this, the taste of plum on her lips, and when her—

“Mhm,” Yuji groaned hopelessly, feeling her tongue explore the insides of his mouth. It was hot and wet, and he felt like his heart could stop. Suddenly, he was so putty in her hands, he would do anything for her to keep touching and kissing him like this. No, for her to do anything she wanted with him. He would make a pact with a curse and sell his soul to stay like this a little longer, or to never feel the need to breathe again, so her lips can remain sealed with his forever. Still desperate for air, however, he forced himself to pull away, a shining string of saliva stretching between their lips.

She breathed in, preparing to talk. “I—”

“No, please, don’t say it.” He pressed their foreheads together again, breathing heavily. “Allow me to be selfish. I—I want you to say it tomorrow, in the morning. So that—”

“—It’s real?” she finished for him.

“Yeah,” he smiled bashfully, looking into her eyes. He could see himself in the glassy reflection of her eyes. They were bright and kind, and they looked at him the way he never thought would ever happen. He never thought he would be close enough to her to have the chance of examining just how deep and gentle they are.

Yuji moved a hair strand away from her face. “C’mon, I’ll carry you.”

He lifted her in one motion and pressed firmly to his chest. She could hear the rapid pounding in his chest, and it made her heart race after it. Pressing her ear closer, she could almost hear his thoughts. She didn't really need to hear them, she got the general idea from how uneven were his breaths and how his fingers trembled around her form.

While they waited for the elevator inside, she looked at him.

“Can I keep kissing you?”

His face heated up for a hundredth time this night, as he diverted his gaze nervously. She could feel his hands now squeezing her a little tighter.

“Y-yeah. I would like that.”

* * *

Yuji did not know that pain can bring such an amount of happiness with it. There were two single beds in their room, but they ended up sharing one of them together, which resulted in soreness and numbness in different parts of Yuji’s body. His back ached from arching it so that he didn't fall, and he couldn’t feel his right arm anymore because he went to bed while hugging her. Not that he was complaining though. He could go to sleep on hot coals for all he cared if that meant she would lie on top of him. Feeling her body next to his sent vibrations down his spine. Suddenly, he heard her groan, and his heart fastened its pace.

Nanami Kento was right when he said that getting old is manifested in small things. One of them was getting morning sickness and headaches from any amount of drinking, moderate or otherwise. She hid her face in both of her palms and turned to the side, trying to hide from the morning sun. Sliding the palms down to her chest, she was met with Yuji’s glowing but anxious face: his hair was a mess, and there was a big imprint on his right cheek from the pillow wrinkles. She smiled softly, reaching out to fix one of his hair strands.

“Hi,” she rasped.

“Hi,” he responded, sounding relieved.

“Remind me to never drink again,” she said, turning on her back tiredly. “I lose years of my life from each hangover.”

“I mean, it’s exactly what I’m doing each time, but the strategy doesn’t seem to be working.” He chuckled, slowly getting up from the bed. “I’ll bring you an aspirin.”

Her eyes traced his features radiating in the morning sun as he made his way to the coffee table across the room. He had plenty of scars across his back and more on the chest. None of Jujutsu High students got anything close to normal school life, but Yuji certainly took the cake. And to remain so gratuitously giving and caring all while dealing with so much burden and pressure—her heart sank from just the thought.

She sat up as Yuji sat in front of her on the side of the bed, giving her a glass of fizzling water. She smiled in gratification and brought it to her lips.

“By the way, can you tell me what we ended up doing yesterday? I don’t remember shit,” she said nonchalantly before starting to gulp down the medicine.

The look on Yuji’s face filled with terror and chagrin; he felt his fingertips grow colder as he grasped the bedsheets beneath his hands. He lowered his gaze in silence, feeling the heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Meanwhile, she downed the glass and put it on her nightstand. Looking back at him, she lifted the corners of her lips.

“Kidding.”

He let out a questioning yell and grabbed a pillow, aiming a blow. “You’re so mean! Never ever do that shit again!”

He threw the pillow into her face, and she laughed, grabbing his hand, and pulling him on top of her. Yuji positioned his hands on both sides of her head and felt the familiar heat run up his neck to his cheeks, nose, and ears.

“Sorry,” she whispered softly.

“I’ll think about it.”

She lifted her hands and palmed his face, looking deep into his amber eyes. Yuji swallowed thickly, both of his palms twitching uncontrollably.

“Yuji.”

“Y-yeah?”

“I love you.”

The warmness from her hands went deep beyond his face. He felt her arms reach out gently into his chest and cradle his heart, calming its frantic heartbeat and holding it with such care that it sent lumps to his throat. He fought back the quivering of his lips as her thumb stroked across the scar right beneath his eye.

“I love you so so much,” she murmured fondly, squinting from her growing smile. Yuji lowered his body closer to hers and hid his face in the crook of her neck, hugging her from behind.

“If you don’t stop, I might die.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t… feel this happy.”

She closed her eyes contently and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a slow kiss to his temple. “Well, that’s not for you to decide, dumbass.”

She played with his messy hairs, breathing in his scent.

“But if you don’t reciprocate, I might die as well.”

Yuji rose sharply on his hands and leaned forward, crushing his lips into hers for a quick second.

“I love you,” he said loudly after breaking the kiss. Then he leaned in and kissed her again.

“I love you. I love you I love you I love you,” he kept repeating after kissing her over and over again. “I lov—” She interrupted him mid-sentence and took initiative, thrusting into his lips and parting them with a twirl of her tongue. He moaned and gave in, moving his head to the side.

Please, don’t leave me

I’m with you until the world collapses

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #itadori yuji #itadori yuji x reader

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

Note

Harry forget a special date night with his girl because his ex calls him. He don’t have feelinhs for his ex but he don’t wanna be rude so he answer and forget everything. After a week of silence he give his girl a big suprise to make everything alright

okkkkk this got really long on accident oops :) i wasn’t really sure how i wanted this to go, and i got slightly off track of your request? but i hope you like it!

make it up

warnings: angst, relationship fights

word count: 4k

You huffed in frustration, checking your phone for the tenth time tonight. You wanted to give Harry the benefit of the doubt, you really did. Maybe he was stuck in traffic. Maybe his producer had told him he absolutely had to stay late and finish some last minute work. Maybe he had gotten in an accident and his mangled car was laying at the bottom of a ravine somewhere. Maybe his phone had died.

The more excuses you tried to come up with, the more you realized what had really happened. He had forgotten. He had forgotten the date you had been planning together for weeks now, the one to celebrate the end of his tour. The one he had been talking about constantly, smiling about how excited he was to finally have you to himself for a few hours. Of course, he was incredibly grateful to his entire team and everyone who made his dreams reality, but sometimes he just wanted to sit down to a nice meal with you.

The two of you had barely had a second alone together since he got home a month ago. You had expected things to back to normal soon after he got home, but unfortunate that was far from what happened. You didn’t know there was so much for him to do after the tour was officially over. He still had to attend countless meetings with his team, discussing what things went well and what didn’t. He had to sit through hours and hours of interviews, answering questions that you really didn’t think were important. He just had to do so much; from how little you saw him, it felt like he was still halfway across the world.

The more minutes passed by, the more hope you lost. You had been fully dressed and ready, sitting at the kitchen table for over an hour now. He was supposed to be home at exactly 5, giving him enough time to get ready and make it to the 6:30 reservation at your favorite restaurant.

It was currently 6:10, and there was no sign of him. You had called him three times and sent at least 10 texts. This wasn’t like him. Even when he was busy, he always made time to shoot you a quick text to assure you he was okay and not ignoring you. But not tonight. Tonight, there was complete radio silence. Since Harry wasn’t answering, there was only one other person you knew to contact.

“Y/N, hi! Is everything ok?”

“Hi Sarah! Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

“Well, Harry got a text during one of the meetings. Apparently it was urgent, because he rushed out of there right away. Didn’t even say what it was about. We thought it was you.”

“Uh- no, no I haven’t heard from him at all. When was this?”

“4:30.”

“Oh,” you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. So he wasn’t ignoring you because he was in a meeting; he hadn’t been in a meeting for almost two hours.

“Y/N, I’m sure there’s a good explanation,” Sarah comforted.

“Maybe,” you bit your lip. “But why is he ignoring me?”

“...I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe he’s not by his phone. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Y/N.”

“You’re probably right,” you sighed. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course, anytime. Text me when he gets in. He’s an idiot for leaving you out of things, but I still want to make sure he’s ok.”

“I know how you feel,” you smiled sadly. “I will. Goodnight.”

-----

“So, I think the biggest thing we need to figure out is the merchandise. Harry, if you could get a head start on picking colors, maybe thinking of designs? Or if you could-”

She was cut off by Harry’s phone dinging loudly. He sighed silently in relief, smiling apologetically as he pulled it out of his pocket. He had been trying to pay attention, he really had. He just couldn’t concentrate on anything. All he could thing about was how he would be home soon, kissing the love of his life and finally having some time together with you. He could tell his absence had been hard on you, even though you tried to convince him you were ok. He knew it hadn’t been easy for you, because it had been absolute torture for him. He loved touring, he truly did. He loved the adrenaline rush of performing for thousands of people. He loved traveling; seeing new things and meeting ne people. He loved his job. But it was incredibly difficult to be away from you for so long. He hated not being able to hold you whenever he felt like it. He hated waking up alone in a different country every week. He hated only getting to see you for a few hours on a Skype call every week. He hated being in a different time zone, constantly playing phone tag and replying to messages hours after they had been sent.

So, when his phone went off, he reached for it quickly, hoping to see a text from you. He was unpleasantly surprised.

Lucille: We need to talk

Harry frowned. He hadn’t heard from his ex girlfriend in almost a year, since before he met you. They had broken up even before that, but they had remained friends. He quickly texted back.

Harry: Is everything ok?

Lucille: it’s urgent. Meet met at the coffee shop?

Harry knew exactly what place she was referring to. The quaint little shop had been their favorite place when they were together. It was fairly secluded from the street and not well known, so Harry wouldn’t be hounded by fans and paparazzi.

Harry: I’m in a meeting, and I’m not free tonight. Are you ok?

Lucille: it’s an emergency. Please come right now.

Harry’s eyes went wide. He didn’t still have feelings for her, but she was a friend. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he would feel awful if something bad happened and he had refused to help.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Mitch spoke.

“Harry, what happened? Is it Y/N?”

“Uh- I have to go,” Harry said, abruptly standing up and leaving the room.

-----

“Lucille?” He asked, looking around the little shop.

“Harry, I’m so glad you came,” she smiled up at him from their table in the back corner. He made his way over to her, concern on his face.

“Did something happen? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, I just... I need to talk to you.”

“Lucille, why would you do that? I thought something horrible happened,” Harry sighed, sitting in the seat across from her.

“I didn’t think you’d come if you weren’t worried,” she explained, stirring her coffee.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She had always been dramatic, and not in a good way.

“What is it then? Why do you need to talk to me?”

She didn’t respond, she just pushed the second coffee cup toward him.

“It’s your favorite,” she smiled.

“Thanks,” he took a small sip, grimacing slightly. His taste had changed since he met you. He couldn’t stand black coffee anymore. He reached for a sugar packet, ignoring the shocked look on her face as he mixed it into the dark liquid.

“Really, Lucille, why am I here?”

She sighed, setting down the stir stick.

“I think you know why.”

“I really don’t,” he said sincerely, looking up from his cup. “You said it was an emergency, but you seem completely fine.”

“I’m not fine, Harry. I’m in love.”

“That’s good!” he said, completely misunderstanding the look on her face. “I’m glad you’ve found someone.”

“No, Harry,” she sighed. “I’m in love... with you.”

He drew back, slightly shocked at her words. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. I’m still in love with you, and I think you love me too.”

“Lucille-“

She cut him off. “No, Harry listen. Why would you come here if you weren’t? Why would you drop everything, leave a meeting, and come to a random coffee shop to meet me? You said you weren’t free tonight, but here you are.”

“Because you’re my friend!” He exclaimed. “You said it was an emergency, I couldn’t just ignore you. But I’m with Y/N, and we are very happy together. Speaking of her...”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, wincing when he saw the time.

5:37. Y/N’s going to kill me.

“Lucille, I have to go. I was supposed to be home at 5.” He stood up, ready to rush home. He felt terrible for being late and he prayed he would be able to move their reservation back an hour or two.

“Oh, so she’s that controlling?” She asked, her voice laced with condescension.

“No,” he quickly shut her down. “We have plans tonight.”

Her face fell and she looked crushed. “Please don’t leave.”

“Lucille-“

“Please,” her voice lowered to a whisper and she looked like she was about to cry. He sighed, sinking back into his seat.

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to love me,” she looked quickly with tears on her face. “Like you used to.”

“I’m sorry, Lucille. We broke up. We aren’t together anymore. I’m with Y/N now,” he repeated his sentence from earlier. He pulled out his phone again, ready to text Y/N that he would be a few minutes late. He knew she would be upset, but at least she would know he was okay. His plan was wrecked, however, when his phone didn’t light up immediately. He tried again, jaw clenching when he realized it was dead.

“Ok, I really have to go. I can’t text Y/N to let her know I’m okay, so she’ll be worried.”

“Don’t!” She cried out, getting the attention of the few others in the shop. “She’s not as good as me. She doesn’t love you like I do! I’m better than her.”

Harry took a deep breath, trying very hard to stay calm. “Don’t speak about her like that.”

“It’s true! We were so good together, Harry, don’t you remember?” She leaned forward, grasping his hand in hers. “Don’t you want that back?”

“No,” he pulled away. “I don’t. I love Y/N. I’m sorry if that upsets you, but it’s the truth, and I have to go.”

She grabbed him again, her sad face turning angry. “You will regret leaving me, Harry. I know all your secrets. I can spill things that will ruin you.”

“What, you’re blackmailing me into breaking up with Y/N?”

“Yes,” she said smugly.

“Fine. Do it. I don’t care.”

Her face fell. “What do you mean?”

“Ruin my reputation. I have Y/N, someone who loves me for who I really am, and not what the press is saying about me. That’s something you two don’t have in common. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he stood up, her hand falling away. “I have somewhere to be.”

-----

You had given up. You had changed out of your dress and into your pajamas. You were sitting on the couch, holding a book that you weren’t really reading. You were just waiting for Harry to come back. He better have a really good explanation.

Just then, you heard his key in the lock of the door. You sat up straighter, not taking your eyes off the book. You didn’t respond when you heard him call your name. You kept your head down, eyes glued to the book.

“Y/N,” he said, cautiously walking toward you. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re alive, then?” You said quietly, not looking at him.

“I’m sorry-”

You didn’t let him finish. You stood up, still not looking at him as you walked out of the room. He followed you as you made your way up the stairs and to the guest room.

“Y/N, what are you-”

“I’m sleeping in here tonight,” you said, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind you.

You heard a quiet knock on the door before his voice came again. “Please open the door.”

“Just leave me alone, Harry,” you said, pulling back the covers and climbing into the bed.

You hadn’t locked the door, but you realize you probably should have when you heard it softly click open.

“Go away,” you sighed, laying on your side and facing away from him.

“Please let me explain,” he said, sounding desperate.

“Not right now.”

“Y/N, just-”

“Harry,” you said harshly, cutting him off. “Please. Leave me alone.”

-----

The next few days were very unpleasant. You refused to speak more than three words to Harry. It was all one word answers and leaving the room as soon as he walked in.

You wouldn’t even stay in your bed with him at night. He had tried pulling you into your shared room, begging because “I can’t sleep without you.” You refused, pulling away from him and locking yourself in the guest room. Then he had tried following you in there, looking devastated when you pushed him out.

Finally, Harry had had enough. He couldn’t handle not being able to talk to the love of his life. He needed to talk to you. He needed to tell you all the minuscule details of his day, from what flavor muffin he had for breakfast to what color shoes Mitch had worn that day. He needed to hug you and kiss you and ask you what you wanted for dinner. Most of all, he needed to sleep next to you. He couldn’t take this anymore. He had to take Benadryl every night because he literally could not fall asleep without you.

He knew what he had to do. It’s not like this was some last minute thing, either. He had been planning this for months, since before he left for his tour. There was just a lot of finalizing to do before he could show you. He couldn’t wait anymore, though, so he picked up his phone and called his real estate agent.

-----

Harry followed you into the guest room before you could manage to shut the door behind you.

“Get out,” you said, not looking at him.

“No.”

This made you look up. So far, he had completely respected your wish for privacy, but apparently not anymore.

“Fine, then stay in here, but I’m leaving,” you went back to the door, but he grabbed your wrist before you could open it. You turned around, yanking your arm out of his grasp.

“What do you want?” You asked in frustration.

“I want to talk to you.”

“I don’t think there’s much to say, Harry. You forgot. You were excited- I was excited for this dinner, we were planning it for weeks. Then you forgot. You came home three hours late and you didn’t even let me know if you were ok. You could have been hurt or something, and I wouldn’t have known!”

“My phone died!” He defended himself.

“You could have used someone else’s! Where were you anyways?”

“I was with Lucille,” he said, looking very guilty.

“Oh, lovely! You stood me up to hang out with your ex. That’s just great.”

“That’s not what happened! Will you just let me explain?”

“Fine,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I- I have to show you something first.”

Your face twisted in confusion. “What is it?”

“Uh- you have to come with me.”

“No, Harry. Tell me.”

“I can’t,” he said sincerely. “It’s- please trust me, and come with me.”

“Trust you? What reason have you given me to trust you?”

“Y/N, please.”

“Alright,” you sighed. “Where is it?”

“We have to drive there.”

“Harry, it’s ten o’clock at night. I’m not going anywhere right now.” You narrowed your eyes. “You just want to get me in the car so I can’t walk away!”

“No- well, that’s an added bonus, but I promise, I really do have a place to show you.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your arms back to your sides. “Fine. Do I need to get dressed?”

“No, you’re totally fine,” he promised, looking down at his hoodie you were wearing. Even when you were completely pissed at him, you still wore his clothes. This brought a small smile to his face.

“Come on,” he held out his hand, not wanting to make the first move and upset you. You hesitantly took it, allowing him to lead you out of the house and into the car.

-----

You pulled up in front of the nicest house you had ever seen. The front was illuminated with lanterns and there was a large stone fountain capturing your attention.

“Where are we?” You asked, your confusion momentarily covering your anger.

“Come on,” he ignored your question, climbing out of the car and coming around to open your door. He helped you out, not letting go of your hand when you stood up straight. He walked you closer, an excited smile lighting up his face.

“Harry, seriously, what are we doing here?”

He still didn’t answer. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a key. Your eyes went wide as you began to understand what was going on.

He swung the door open, pulling you inside. You squinted, trying to see where you were as your eyes tried to adjust to the sudden darkness.

His hand found the light switch, flicking it on and washing both of you in the glow of the huge chandelier. You turned to him, your eyes still wide.

“Harry... what did you do?”

Suddenly he looked very shy. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze as he looked around the huge room.

“I... kind of... bought a house.”

“You did what?” You sputtered. “You bought this house?”

“I did,” he smiled.

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you buy a house just so I won’t be mad at you anymore? Because if you did, that was the stupidest-“

“No!” He cut you off. “No, that’s not why. I’ve been looking for a long time. A really long time. I’ve had my eye on this one for a few months now, I just figured... this could help me make it up to you.”

You were silent for a few seconds, staring into his eyes. He held his breath, not knowing what was going through your head.

“Are you crazy?”

“A little,” he laughed. “Are you... are you mad? About the house?”

“No,” your face softened when you saw how nervous he looked. “I’m not.”

“That’s good,” he blew out a big breath in relief. “Because it’s, like, 100% ours now. Not much I could’ve done if you were mad about it.”

“Which is why,” you smacked his shoulder. “You’re supposed to house shop with the person you’re going to be living with.”

“I know, everything’s just been so crazy lately. I knew you were stressed and I didn’t want to make anything worse.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” you said, stepping closer to him. You hesitantly brought your arms up to wrap around him.

He seemed just as hesitant as you. He hovered his arms above your back, not sure where to put them. You pressed your face into his chest, inhaling his cologne and pressing against him. You hadn’t hugged him in so long. When he felt you relax, he finally put his arms down and hugged you back.

When you finally pulled away, there were tears in your eyes. His face became concerned again, bringing up his hand to wipe his thumb along your waterline.

“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, keeping one arm latched around you like he was scared you would run away.

“Because I’ve been awful to you the past couple of days. I shouldn’t have been so mad in the first place, I should have just listened to you and let you-“

“Wait a minute,” he cut you off. “You had every right to be angry. I promised you I would be home on time. Then I wasn’t, and I didn’t let you know. I was in the wrong here.”

“Maybe, but you didn’t deserve to be treated like I treated you. I never even let you explain where you were.”

“Do you want me to?” He asked.

“If you want to,” you exhaled shakily, trying to contain your tears.

“Like I said before, I was with Lucille- which I know sounds really bad, but just let me explain, yeah?”

You nodded, pulling away and taking his hand. You brought him over to one of the couches in the living room, pushing him gently to sit with his back against the armrest. His legs splayed out across the cushions, and you settled between them with your back against his chest. You leaned your head back, soothed by his rhythmic breathing.

“I was in a meeting and I was bored out of my mind. I got a text and I thought it was you, so I checked it. But it wasn’t you, it was Lucille. She said it was urgent , she needed to see me right then. I told her I couldn’t because I was busy but she kept saying it was an emergency. I didn’t think I could just ignore her, because what if something terrible happened? So I left the meeting and went to the coffee shop. She told me...”

You looked up at his face when he stopped talking. “She told you what?”

“She... said she loves me,” he explained, looking upset. “She freaked out, told me she “knew I loved her too” and that “we could be together again”.

“What... what did you say?” You asked, your voice a little shaky. You knew Harry loved you, but he had been with Lucille for over a year. It didn’t help knowing that Lucille was a beautiful model.

“I told her I was in love with you,” he said quickly, seeing the panic on your face. “I reminded her that she and I broke up a long time ago, and that I’m with you now.”

You relaxed a little, leaning against him again. “Bet she loved hearing that.”

“Oh yeah,” he laughed. “She actually tried to blackmail me into leaving you.”

“What?”

“Yeah, she said if I don’t leave you she’ll spill all my secrets and ruin my reputation.”

“What are you going to do?” You asked worriedly, sitting up to look at him.

“Nothing,” he shrugged.

“What do you mean nothing? Harry, you dated for over a year! What does she have against you?”

“Honestly, not much that I know of. I don’t exactly have any deep dark secrets,” he smiled.

“I guess,” you bit your lip. “Still.”

“Well, what would you suggest I do?” He joked. “Sue her?”

“Maybe, yeah. Defamation and all that.”

“Oh, definitely, I think that’s the way to go.”

“Absolutely,” you laughed, before a serious look came over your face again. “I’m really sorry.”

“No, don’t-“

“Listen to me,” you said, looking into his eyes. “I was wrong to treat you so badly. You didn’t deserve that and I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Will you forgive me?”

“Of course,” you leaned against him again, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Let’s never fight again, ok?”

“Ok,” he smiled. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve not been sleeping at all the past three nights, and I’m about ready to collapse. This house is fully furnished. What do you say we go find our bed?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

#harry styles #harry fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x you fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction

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gregorygrim · 3 years

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Dragon Prince Hot Takes

!!! Full Spoiler For “The Dragon Prince” Seasons 1-3!!!

So I finally got around to watching The Dragon Prince. Timely, I know, but better late than never i guess. I’m not completely caught up yet as I only got as far as S3E7 “Hearts of Cinder” in this first sitting. Considering I haven’t binged any series in almost two years, I think that’s pretty respectable. This means I won’t discuss the last few episodes here, except for a couple of things I was unfortunately spoiled for already, hence full spoilers.

These are basically my first thoughts and opinions after the binge and a good night’s sleep. It’s gonna be a lot so if you don’t care or don’t want spoilers…

TL;DR: 7½/10. Generally enjoyable, there are some aspects I’m not exactly fan of, but no dealbreakers

Firstly to everyone who told me that this was the new ATLA: you all need to rewatch Avatar stat! Like seriously. There are definitely parallels and given the cast and crew I think that’s what they were going for too (which is why I think it’s fair to compare the two), but still, no.

Secondly I love most of the worldbuilding and love that the series at least tries to give it to us in a bit of a non-linear fashion, even if it is kind of clumsy at times. I know some people are put off by expository dialogue and flashbacks, but I’m an epic fantasy nerd, I need that sweet, sweet lore to live as much as you mortals need food.

I like that there was clearly an effort made to integrate the worldbuilding in more subtle ways. For example you may initially find it kind of weird that all these different human ethnicities are existing perfectly integrated in what looks like a medieval society, until you remember from the opening monologue that the Human Kingdoms are the result of a massive diaspora following the human exodus from Xadia, so obviously people got all mixed up everywhere. It’s representation with an excellent in-world reason and that just brings me joy.

I also love the magic system(s) even though we haven’t really gone into that just yet. it really feels like there was a genuine effort made to create underlying mechanics for the magic rather than just making each spell a vaguely elemental themed ability. I really hope we’ll dive deeper into that in coming seasons.

I also like the little nods to other works of fantasy: Ezran’s ability to talk with animals is a reference to Tolkien’s world where some royal bloodlines had the ability to speak with animals, specifically birds; Primal Magic and its spells being cast with Ancient Draconic runes and words might be reminiscent of the Ancient Language from the Inheritance Cycle etc.

Thirdly the main cast is great. Callum, Ezran and Rayla are all interesting and relatable characters in their own right and as a group. I’m not going into each of them individually here, but while I think the series as a whole falls short of ATLA, as protagonist parties go I dare say this one is nearly on nearly on par with the gAang.¹

And yes, I love Bait, which I really did not expect following the first few episodes. I love his weird pug-toad-chameleon design, I love that he works like a flashbang whenever somebody says a quote from Scarface (I wish they hadn’t dropped that later on) and I love how done he is with everything and everyone at all times. I’ve only had him for 25 episodes, but if anything happened to him I would kill all of my followers and then myself.

On top of that, and speaking as someone who god knows is really not into shipping, I love Rayla and Callum’s relationship. It’s believable, it’s refreshing and it brings out the best in both characters without changing basically anything about them. Just two good friends who fell in love. A++, maybe even S tier.

Unfortunately though I can’t sing the same kind of praises about the villains. None of them are terrible (as in terribly written, most of them are pretty awful people), but with one exception they just don’t stand up to the protagonists in quality.

I could simply not take Viren seriously. Even now that is probably the single most powerful magic user in the world, he just has such strong Karen energy, every time he finishes a speech I am overcome with the urge to say “Sir, this is a Wendy’s” and it does not help the mood. I’m not even sure why. It might’ve been the voice because the guy who did Viren (Jason Simpson) also does a lot of kinda slimy characters in various anime dubs, it might be that over-the-top walking stick, idk.

What I’m saying is that as a primary antagonist he simply did not work for me. Which is doubly a shame because this kind of tarnishes the real “Big Bad” of this story by proxy. Aaravos, even as an invisible ghost, with his voice coming out of a caterpillar and next to no info on his backstory, has more style and gravity than all the human antagonists combined. It helps that he is by far the best designed character and Erik Dellums has the voice of a young god, but I’d argue even without that unfair advantage he has the potential to be a top tier villain. While he is stuck as Viren’s “little bug-pal” though he is just being dragged down.

(I’m aware that as of the final episode the caterpillar familiar is undergoing metamorphosis, probably to create a new body for Aaravos’ spirit to inhabit outside of the magic mirror, so I’m definitely hyped for more of him in the coming seasons.)

As for Soren and Claudia, I’ve got mixed feelings. This was one more aspect of the show that a lot of people compared to Avatar and while I see the parallels to Zuko & Azula, they are still very different, at least where Claudia is concerned. I’d also just like to mention that a lot of people told me that they thought the direction in which their storylines went were really surprising and I can’t disagree more. I predicted that Soren would defect to the protagonists on episode 5 right after Viren told him to kill the princes and I knew Claudia was going to stick with her father from episode 12 onward. My point is, it didn’t feel like some kind of plot twist, the way some people made it out to be, and which I don’t think was the intent.

I definitely got the sense that Soren was at least a Zuko-type character, though still not a Zuko clone, and as with Zuko I was consistently able to empathise and sympathise with him and his predicaments. I also appreciated that his dilemma is the result of his convictions and not him being kind of dense, which would’ve been all to easy and probably would’ve ruined his character for me. As it stands he is extremely milktoast, but perfectly functional for his purpose in the story and I can definitely see him evolving further and getting more interesting as we go on.

Claudia is where it gets complicated. Again, I can see the Azula parallels. But unlike that character, who is her father’s animal 110%, Claudia doesn’t strike me as a victim of Viren’s manipulation the way Soren undoubtably is. The way she talks about and uses Dark Magic, how she talks down to Soren and how even Viren finds it difficult to communicate with her, tells me as an audience member that she is an independent person. Which tells me that the cruelty and enthusiasm for causing harm she regularly displays is her own will. And that was before she straight up leads Callum on to manipulate him.

On the other hand I can absolutely relate to her devotion to her family, her big sister role (even though she is younger than Soren) and the way both the separation of her parents before the story and Soren’s injury in episode 16 must’ve affected her because of this. I know that, if my brother had become paralysed from the neck down and I knew a way to heal him, I would not have hesitated to kill that fawn either. Then again her relationship with her father is very different from parental relationships I am familiar with, so I can’t really say I see why she is so devoted to him, other than she promised her mother to stay with him years ago? ¯\(o_Ō)/¯

So basically Claudia falls into an emotional grey space for me. I can’t really tell how to feel about her either way and I’ll just have to see where she goes from here, which, while fine, isn’t necessarily great for an end of season cliffhanger imo.

Seeing as I’ve already talked about some of the show’s shortcomings, I think it’s time to dive into some of the what I would consider flaws.

Firstly this show needed at least 12 episode seasons. I have never made a secret out of my dislike for the modern short seasons and while I recognise that in the current climate in the industry giving everything full 25 episode seasons isn’t really doable, the pacing of this show, especially for the first season is just outright bad at times. It works as of the second season, but the first season alternately feels like it’s either rushing through or crawling along the whole way through.

The believability of Rayla’s and the princes’ relationship really suffers from this the most. It comes a bit out of nowhere on the boat ride and is then taken for granted way to quickly. Like Callum, seriously, this girl tried to kill you and your brother not even a day ago and you are currently cut off from all allies you have ever had until now. A little skepticism isn’t misplaced here. I also wold’ve liked if we’d just gotten a bit more of a sense of movement with the characters. I get that this is not the kind of show where we can just make an entire episode about the characters travelling and camping, intercut with plots centred around a more expansive supporting cast, but still I really would’ve preferred if Xadia didn’t feel quite so around the corner.

Another issue is with setup and payoff, which I think is partially a consequence of the pacing as well. A lot of smaller plot points are set up within the same episode as the payoff just wreak havoc on the narrative structure. A good example is the episode where they ride down the river in a boat and Bait tires to go into the water, but is saved by Ezran, who then explains the story behind Glowtoads and how they are pefect bait for large water predators. Then Bait falls into the water and is attacked by a massive water monster. This happens within five minutes of one episode and never comes up again. To me that looks like sign of rushed editing, which is probably not entirely the crew’s fault, given that they are on a schedule from Netflix, but it’s still a point of critique.

It unfortunately also manifests in the occasional line of horribly forced dialogue, often for things we can literally see happening on screen. Again, this is mostly the case in the earlier episodes, but it never completely goes away.

Finally, and this is where i get into serious issues that made me want to write this, we gotta talk about representation in this show.

First: disabled representation, meaning Amaya. Why is Amaya deaf? Because it’s good to have disabled representation.

Why is Amaya deaf and a high-ranking military officer? Because they didn’t think it through.

I know this may be a contentious opinion, but it is my belief that the purpose of representation, particularly of disabilities characters may suffer from, in fiction is to, y’know, represent people as they are in life. That includes especially the struggles they face and have to overcome, sometimes their whole life. This is not just me talking out of my ass either. A couple years ago I discussed this with several people that are disabled, specifically blind or otherwise severely visually impaired, in a different context obviously, and the general consensus was that it’s better to have representation that shows their life and their abilities as they are, rather than how they might wish they could be.

A mute or deaf person cannot be a medieval fantasy army general, no matter how good they might be in melee combat or who’s sister they are, because at the end of the day, they’re not able to give commands while they are holding a sword and shield. That such a massive logical oversight, especially in comparison to the extremely well done example of representation I mentioned above, and has so little impact on the plot that it leads me to believe, this aspect of Amaya’s character was tacked on in the last minute without being given any thought for the sole reason of the story having a disabled person in it. All this does is necessitate the existence of two otherwise entirely unnecessary characters, Gren and Kazi, both of which achieve nothing, aside from sometimes being literal set dressing.

That is where representation ends and tokenism begins.

And unfortunately this generally lacklustre attitude also extends to the LGBT+ representation on the show.

As of S3E7 “Hearts of Cinder” we have had two onscreen gay couples on the show (onscreen in the sense that both partners were onscreen and they were somehow confirmed to be in a relationship on the show). One of these, the queens of Duren, literally die in the same flashback they are introduced in, which incidentally also features them invading a foreign nation to poach a rare animal and subsequently starting the conflict at the series’ core. Not a great look.

Aside from serving as a tragic backstory for their daughter, the most impact they had on my viewing experience was that they made wonder how the fuck royal succession works in Duren. (People who know me are rolling their eyes right now because I’m bringing anarchism into this Dragon Prince review, but I’m telling you, this why fantasy monarchies aren’t compatible with LGBT+ politics in the same setting. Dynastic governments are inherently bigoted, you can’t have it both ways.)

The other couple are Runaan and Ethari, Rayla’s caretakers, although if I’m being honest you wouldn’t be able tell based on Runaan’s treatment of Rayla in the first episode. By the time we actually meet Ethari and find out about their relationship with Rayla, Runaan is suffering “a fate worse than death” (direct quote from the show) trapped in a gold coin.

I mean come on. That’s about as “technically not ‘bury your gays’” as it gets.

I think I need to reiterate here that my point is not that this show or its creators are somehow malicious. As i stated in the TL;DR: I don’t think this is a dealbreaker for liking this show. But it does demonstrate that they are prone to slipping to some potentially harmful tropes and this needs to be criticised and pointed out to them.

In conclusion, I really love this show. It’s not ATLA, it never will be, nothing else will ever be ATLA no matter how badly (and terribly) Netflix tries. But it does and should not have to be.

What it has to do though is improve. A lot of the building blocks are already there, such as Aaravos or Claudia’s development, Callum’s father, the origin of Ezran’s ability, the purpose of the “Key of Aaravos”, the true fate of King Harrow (we all know his soul is in the bird, right?) etc. Some things like the treatment of Amaya’s disability unfortunately won’t be fixable as far as I can tell, but if they at least manage to fix the gay representation I can make my peace with that.

¹ I know I said I wouldn’t go into each of the characters individually, but a) you should never trust a stranger on the internet and b) I really want to talk a bit about Callum. Specifically the “mystery” of why the hell he is connected to the Sky Primal. I write “mystery” because I think it’s fairly obvious from whence this talent came: there is only one humanoid species we know of with innate access to the Sky Arcanum and one of Callum’s parent’s is unidentified, presumed dead. 2+2=4. Callum’s father was a Skywing Elf. That’s why he recognised Nyx’s boomerang weapon. He remembered one like it either from his very early childhood (remember that he has photographic memory) or Sarai kept one and he found it at some point.

On top of that the name “Callum” or at least the pronunciation is clearly derived from Latin “caelum” meaning “sky” or “weather” and I already mentioned that Ancient Draconic is just bad Latin. It’s not very subtle. Unless they pull a complete 180 concerning the lore about Primal Magic he’s definitely going to be a half-elf, which would also just so happen to make him the perfect mediator between the Human Kingdoms and Xadia. Hmm, it’s almost as if they are planning ahead.

My question: How the fuck did that happen? Or rather: how did that fuck happen? I don’t think even Harrow knew or he probably would’ve a) paid more attention when Sarai advised against poaching the Magma Titan, because obviously she’s gotten around Xadia more than him, if y’know what i’m sayin’ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) or at least b) put it in his final letter to Callum. Unfortunately we know basically nothing about Sarai except that she was a soldier alongside Amaya and already had Callum before marrying Harrow. So does Amaya know? This is probably the most interesting plot thread in the whole story and as far as my friends told me it’s not going to be touched on anymore in the last two episodes than it already has thus far, which is basically not at all.

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my-happy-little-bean · 3 years

Text

The Bookkeeper – Chapter 10

Chapter 10: One Last Time, Please

pairings: logan/patton (logicality), roman/virgil (prinxiety) words: 2421 chapter warnings: existential crisis, depressive episodes, references to death chapter summary:

“one last time, please, we can say goodbye again. just for a moment, say it's not the end, will you see me like you did before?

just one night more, and then i’ll close the door; somehow step into a world without you.”

– dodie, one last time, please (demo)

[read on ao3] [masterlist]

< previous chapter

—

A fairy’s song is meant to tempt and allure. This is a fact, perhaps not of this world, but of a world not far and not outside of our own. It is prophetic magic that fuels its conquest; it winds around its purpose—present and future—as glimmering strands of gold.

Roman had heard a fairy’s song before the life he had now, in a forest clearing he eventually shared with someone who believed him. Around a ring of mushrooms, along the crevices of a fallen tree. He attempted to recreate magic’s passionate pursuit in his later musical works, but they never quite swayed in ways similar to how a fairy’s song would softly pull the trees back and forth.

Perhaps it wasn’t actually a fairy’s song, then. Perhaps it was a mere happenstance; a trick of memory and expired time. Perhaps it was just the idea that there was something like that that could exist in the first place; something that could pull at heartstrings and tug not with force, but with an urge to follow instead.

Whatever it is—a fairy’s song, a prophecy, magic, hope— it was something that Roman had found before; maybe more than he initially realized.

He heard a fairy’s song in the twinkle of Eric Fray’s magic, and saw a glimpse of it in his grandson’s. He found a prophecy in a forest clearing, soaked in midnight and secrecy.

He saw hope in Virgil Aries from the very beginning. Not a twisted, grim-dark temptation for a life of nothing. He saw hope.

—

The sound of a bell echoed through Fray and Far Fables.

Logan’s head darted up at the noise, but didn’t turn around to face the door. The shop had been empty for what felt like hours, so to hear anything at all was either a sleep-deprived hallucination or a surprise. Perhaps it was a customer who didn’t know how to read signs that said ‘closed’. Though, he supposed that the open door was quite contrary to that sentiment–

“Logan?”

The book in Logan’s hand fell at the familiar voice, and his thoughts snapped into present cohesion. He turned around and blinked.

Patton stood at the door, seemingly miles away from Logan. And he was staring right back at him. Logan paled.

“Patton! Um, hi. The– the shop’s closed.”

Patton didn’t take his eyes off of him, but blankly motioned behind him.

“The door was open.”

Logan looked over Patton's shoulder.

“...So it is.” He cleared his throat. “Well, I...I suppose the shop is open, then.”

A beat of silence. Logan watched as Patton’s gaze scanned the shop. Embarrassment burned his cheeks scarlet. He knew that there was still an array of papers and wine glasses scattering the floors, but now they were accompanied by a mess of books. A few laid flat on the shelves, left open or haphazardly tossed aside. And he looked awful , truly awful, even for him. His hair was stuck up and his shirt was unbuttoned; he was almost as much of a mess as his shop.

(Roman would have something to say about it all.)

Patton coughed awkwardly, shooting Logan an uneasy smile.

“Did a tornado book it here?”

“No. The weather has been fine.”

Patton’s attempt landed flat on the floor in front of him.

“...Right.”

Silence hung heavy in the air. Part of Logan’s heart ached at the distance between the two of them. He wondered how he could cross it. Only mere days ago was he closer to Patton’s chest than he was to any answer in this life. He swore that it was seconds, maybe minutes since he could hear the way Patton’s brain formed thoughts, the way his heartbeat pulsed softly against oceans and tides, the way his breath exhaled words that meant something, anything, everything .

Logan took a step forward.

“Patton, I–”

Suddenly, he felt the front of his foot bang hard into the spine of a heavy book — one of a million still sprawled on the floor. He felt his vision tilt forward, and he was falling, falling, falling–

“Hey!” A soft thud! Logan felt himself land in the grasp of a warm embrace. “Gosh, let’s go sit down, okay?”

Logan let himself be dragged by Patton to the armchair, flopping on the seat with a huff. He watched Patton sidestep wine glasses and books before sitting across from him. He felt his head go dizzy from the close fall. The heaviness of the last few hours slowly spun around his skull.

“What happened here, Lo?” The question was hushed, worried. Logan grimaced, avoiding Patton’s stare.

“I lost Roman,” he blurted out, more honest and pathetic than he intended. Patton’s head cocked forward.

“You...what?”

“We– we got into this terrible fight and– and ‘m trying to find him, I swear– I have been looking through every book since he left last night but he’s– he’s just gone .”

Logan ran a hand through his hair, curling in on himself with the tremble of an earthquake.

“Hey hey hey .” Patton leaned over and rested a hand on Logan’s thigh. “Just...let’s just slow down, okay? Tell me everything, I’m...I’m here.”

Patton’s words were apparently all that was needed to pull the floodgates open. Logan felt himself unravel as he told Patton everything he knew about Roman, about Virgil, about his magic being gone — anything and everything .

“I can’t believe Roman and Virgil knew each other.” Patton leaned back as Logan finished. “That must’ve been...well, decades ago.”

Logan’s heart ached at the thought. He buried his face in his hands.

“I don’t know what else to do, Patton. I thought I had the answer, but every single turn I made ended up being a dead end.”

“If I could be honest, Lo, I don’t think there is an answer. Not a definite one, at least.”

Logan looked up at him and frowned. “There’s an answer for everything, Pat.”

“Well what does it matter then, whether or not you know the answer?”

A pause. Logan closed his eyes.

“When my fathers passed away, all I had was my grandfather, Roman, and these books. Every story that my grandfather told me became a part of me. Every world that Roman helped create became a part of my mind. And I was content ; I was content knowing that they were all I needed to live. And now, they’re both gone, it just…it just feels like I have nothing again.”

Logan’s gaze hovered over to the window next to him. The world yearned for him on the other side.

“I discovered Virgil’s book after my grandfather passed and it just made the most sense — that there was nothing. And if there was nothing for me to have, there was nothing for me to lose.”

Logan sighed.

“I don’t know where I’m going to find the answer, Patton. And without Roman or my magic, I don’t think I’m going to be able to find much else either.”

“You aren’t without either of them.” Patton smiled sadly at Logan. “You know, it always seems like you’re running on some imaginary treadmill, trying to grab at so many things. When was the last time you really sat down and let everything come to you?”

“When I met you.”

Patton drew back ever so slightly. A heavy silence filled the shop.

“Can I ask you a question, Patton?” Logan finally said.

“Of course.”

“Do you think Virgil was right? That there’s nothing?”

Patton scrunched up his face in thought.

“I did this workshop during the summer of my senior year and for one of the final projects, I was asked to go to a place of my choosing and recreate it through art. I remember walking out of class alone, surrounded by all these people who had places to go. I was thinking of just doing my piece based on my home since I never really got out much and I was really good at finding inspiration in my house. But I spent most of the summer trying to find all of these places. I made so many collages but disassembled them every time. You know where I ended up doing my project?”

“Where?”

“At home. I always ended up at home.” Patton smiled wryly. “But if I hadn’t gone outside of what I already knew, I wouldn’t have found everything I could know.”

Patton leaned back in his chair.

“So no, I don’t think Virgil was right. Honestly, I read his book one evening when I stayed the night here, just to see what all the fuss was about. And it seemed more finite than full of possibilites, like you thought.”

Logan blinked. He tried to remember what Virgil’s book nook looked like, what Virgil had told him.

‘There’s nothing else here.’

“I don’t think there’s nothing,” Patton continued. “In fact, I think there’s everything. Everywhere you went, everywhere you have yet to go — there’s a bit of the everything in all of that.” He laughed softly. “And thank goodness for art, Lo. It brings us so much closer to the everything, because it brings us so much closer to each other.”

Logan let Patton’s words wash over him like a calm wave.

“I’m actually kind of happy you didn’t find the answer you were looking for,” Patton added, breaking the growing silence. “While I don’t think there really is a final answer, I think you got something out of searching. And when your search got you out of Virgil’s book and out into the world...well, I think you became stronger because of it.”

Patton squeezed Logan’s hand.

“So...so don’t give up on looking yet. You have so much to find, Logan. Everything is out there for you to know — you just have to keep looking for it.”

Logan chuckled quietly to himself.

“My grandfather always told me that I was good at finding things. And...and I loved doing it. I loved finding the answers, whatever they were”

Logan felt his chest swell up as he smiled

“I want to find the everything, Pat. And...and I want to find it with you.”

And as soon as the words slipped from Logan’s tongue, his hand glowed blue.

—

Here’s what Logan knows.

He knows that there used to be nothing—truly nothing—in his life. There were storms that rocked his waters for so long, he couldn’t breathe. There were days that were quiet, too quiet. There were days when he saw the sky from the other side of a window; there were days when, for all anyone knew, he was nothing.

There were days when he looked his questions in the eye and stared at every piece of it, as if just looking at it would tell him all he needed to know.

He now knows that is the furthest from the truth.

There is the possibility that the answer blossomed out of the lines on his paper. There is the possibility that the notes scattered on the staff in ways that made sense; in ways that fit. There is magic in a canvas , and there is someone who needs to hold the brush. There is an infinite amount of things that had to be done; to be explored.

(“They say that the desire to know– truly know– everything about anything runs deep in one’s veins.”)

There used to be nothing. Logan knew all too much of that.

But now, there is something.

There is everything.

A navy blue explosion pulsed out of Logan’s hand and rippled throughout the entire shop. Patton gasped, but Logan kept his grip on his hand tight.

All of the books around them flew up into the air, their pages flipping as they rose. Logan stumbled to his feet in the midst of the wind, dragging Patton up with him and pulling him close to his chest. The books spun around them until the shop seemingly disappeared.

And in the blink of an eye, everything stopped.

Logan pulled back from Patton slightly.

“Is it over?” Patton said, still burying his face in Logan’s chest.

“It appears so…”

Logan looked around him. Every book was seemingly in place and back on their shelves, and the mess of papers and wine glasses had disappeared. All that was left was him and Patton.

Patton took a step back, looking around. “What...what happened?”

“I’m...I’m not sure,” Logan said, though the answer simmered in his chest. He felt the familiar warmth of his magic course through his body, but he somehow felt closer to it.

“We need to find Roman.” Logan marched over to the shelves and started scanning through the books. “There has to be something I missed…”

“Logan! Over here!”

Logan turned around. Patton stood at the shelves behind the front counter, pointing to a gap in the rows of books. Two of the books were missing. Logan frowned, heading to Patton’s side.

“The magical explosion must have forgotten to place a few books back.” Logan turned on his heel. “Maybe they’re important, I could try and find them–”

“No! Wait!” Patton grabbed Logan’s shoulder and pulled him back. Logan watched Patton go on the tips of his toes and reach into the gap. Logan frowned.

Patton pulled out a book; brown, leather-back, and completely unknown to Logan. He didn’t recognize it from his catalogue, nor did he remember ever stumbling upon it.

“What is this?”

Patton smiled. “Roman’s favourite book.”

Logan took the book from Patton, examining the front cover.

The Midnight Forest by V. Aries.

Logan looked up at Patton, who just shrugged and nodded at him to open it. Logan flipped through the book. His hand seemingly moved without him thinking too much of it.

Suddenly, his hand glowed blue once more. He paused, looking down at the page he stopped at.

“And if swirls of blue and yellow are not enough,” Logan read aloud, “and if the cities beneath are not enough…”

The words felt as if they were being pulled out from him. He could feel the wind return into the shop, though much more gentle than before.

Logan pulled Patton closer to him with one hand, holding the book up in the other. He narrowed his eyes at the words. He knew that he didn’t completely know what was happening here, nor did he really know what the answer was; yet somehow, he knew the way there.

Logan closed his eyes.

“ And if all these answers are not enough, love, may I give you this…”

—

next chapter >

#TS Storytime 2021 #gabbie writes things #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #logicality #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan/patton #roman/virgil #logic/morality #creativity/anxiety

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trickkombowerskru · 4 years

Text

Road Trip-Henry Bowers Imagine

Request: Anonymous: Hey can you do an imagine where the reader gets a call saying she has to go pick up henry from juniper hills and she is like super successful and she isn't sure if she should but she ends up doing and they have a super cute road trip to her house and it's all fluffy. Also I love your work❤

A/N:I kinda went nuts with this prompt bc I really loved it so this one is real long strap in folks

Warnings: None

You exhale after an exhausting day at work, as you take off your coat. After an entire day of meetings, finalizing pieces, and reviewing editorials you were beat. You wanted nothing more than to get into the bath and have a glass of wine.

Then to follow that up by changing into sweats, and watching whatever new awful movie hit Netflix recently to turn your brain off and relax while you could before you had to be up the next morning to do it all over again.

As soon as you poured your wine your phone ringing obnoxiously loud killed the mood. You pick it up not recognizing the number at all, but seeing it was a call from Derry, Maine. Just upon seeing the town, a familiar feeling struck you, something that was pulling you to answer.

“Hi is this Y/N L/N?”

“This is she. “

“Hi this is Katherine with Juniper Hills Asylum.”

Why the hell was a random mental hospital calling you?

“Can I ask why you’re calling?”

“Ah yes, due to good behavior and new found evidence in the case that he did not commit these crimes, Henry Bowers is to be released early, and to the first person on his emergency contact form, which is you.”

Hearing his name again made you feel like you just got punched in the gut. And then you know the feeling. It was everything your first boyfriend had made you feel. You needed to take a minute to debate whether you would go.

“Oh I have another call I’ll call you back soon.”

“Alright.”

You think of all the pros and cons, you were in New York now which was a while 7 hours away, and it was one am, in order to get there by morning you’d have to leave at three or four. On the other hand you would feel terrible if he was thrown out on to the streets or something. Also the fact that the feelings were slowly coming back, along with memories.

You quickly call your assistant since you decided you would go. Who knows? Maybe it could even be fun.

“Hey Addison? Yeah something just came up I won’t be in tomorrow until late in the afternoon, maybe not at all.”

“Is everything alright Y?N?”

“Yeah fine, fine I just need to go on a business trip in Maine.”

“Oh okay I’ll be sure to get the email out”

“Thanks Addison you’re the best.”

You quickly called the number back.

“Hi Katherine I’ll be there.”

“Great tonight is his last night, he’ll be released to you when you arrive.”

“I can get there around 10.”

“10 am got it, we’ll let the other workers know.

You put your wine glass in the fridge and then proceed to grab a bunch of caffeine. By the time you had to go you were more than awake. The closer you got to Derry, the more memories came flooding back to you. Along with guilt, you remember when everything went down, and how you would go to see him.

Then you graduated and once every few days became once a week, once a week to once a month, and by the time you left Derry it was once every few months, and you had to break it off.

You hated hurting him like that, but you had no choice, seeing him even less would just hurt your relationship. You moved to New York for college, and worked your way up to the ladder to where you were now. Currently you were the CEO of a really large fashion magazine, really creating an empire.

You laughed to yourself remembering all the dumb shit you two got into, how he carved your initials into the kissing bridge, your first kiss, your first time, and just everything else.

It felt weird to be back in Derry, you never really forgot it, but you had somehow forgotten enough. Enough where you had made up enough to seem believable in interviews in case they had asked you about your childhood.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down when you finally pulled into the parking lot. A sense of dread filled your entire body as you were lead down the halls into the lobby by a worker.

Before you entered you could see Henry waiting through the clear double doors, you smiled seeing how nothing had really changed. he still had that rough and tough small town charm and even still had his mullet, which you would be sure he got cut, later.

When the doors open, the look of awe on his face is so heartwarming. He had no idea it was you who was picking him up, his heart swelled seeing you again after all these years, looking somehow even more beautiful.

He was never mad at you for leaving, he actually understood it, and if he held you back, he would hate himself even more. So yeah while being stuck in this hellhole he still loved you and thoughts of you made him smile.

“Y/N,” he asks.

“Hey,” you say softly.

“Hey,” he replies.

Without missing a beat you are hugging, almost wanting to cry at the way he clutches to you as if you were his safe place.

You sign the papers and he practically takes your hand and runs out.

He takes a really deep breath in once outside.

“Aw finally some fresh fuckin’ air.”

“They didn’t let out out?”

“Eh sometimes, but not for long, I swear being stuck in those walls drove everyone even more fuckin’ nuts... it’s the little things you miss the most, but they add up ya know.”

“I guess get that. Like what?”

“Uh fresh air, a nice cig, good food, just to name a few,”

You nod the ride began extremely awkward. Not a word was said from you at first, worried he may have just been secretly mad or something.”

He seemed to pick up on this right away, as after about 25 minutes he looks over at you an smiles.

“I ain’t mad at you.”

“What?”

“For leavin’ I ain’t mad.”

You nod, feeling a weight taken off your shoulders.

And shortly after as cheesy as it was “I Melt With You” comes on the radio. You smile and turn it up, looking over at him. It was your song back in the day because of a whole running joke. In no time you two are singing terribly at the top of your lungs and laughing.

“God remember that night we snuck out to go to prom. I still have no clue how I got you to go with me.”

“You were my girl, and beside I knew that shit would get me brownie points, and what happened it did.”

“Yeah yeah whatever you say Bowers, you still cut up the dance floor.”

“Maybe,” he smiles.

You pull to a halt when you reach one area.

He looks around and chuckles when he sees you get out of the car.

It was the kissing bridge, you look around and then see it, the carving he made all those years ago, still clear as day, you run your hand over it and grin.

You take a picture with you phone and then head back to the car.

“It’s still there. God I remember that night, on the way back from that shitty horror movie, first time you told me you loved me, after you did that carving.”

“Yeah...” he breaths out still taking in how gorgeous the sunlight bounced off the side of your face

The rest of the ride flies by filled with reminiscing and laughter.

You make stops every now and then at gas stations to refuel and get snacks and drinks.

Henry even surprises you with what you always used to get back in the day.

“You remembered?”

“Layer the blue and the red, blue on top, and then since for some reason it’s such a damn pair like we are a two pack of Slim Jims and I get one. ” he shakes his head with a laugh reciting what you used to say to him all the time when you went on snack “runs” back in the day as he pulls apart the pack, handing you one of them.

“I’m impressed. God it’s been so long since I have this absolute garbage combo!,” you exclaim taking a really big sip of the Slurpee.

“So where are we goin’ anyway? Where do you live?,” he questions a s he takes a bit of his Slim Jim

“New York,” you say his eyes light up and you can see a cute sense of childlike wonder in them

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Once you hit New York you notice Henry’s eyes go large again as he looks around at the hustle and bustle of the city and all the shops and stuff. Now though the crashing effects of the caffeine were starting to get to you, but you wanted to get Henry settled in, and then get him a few things, considering his old clothes definitely wouldn’t fit him, and lord knows he probably wanted out of that hoodie and uniform.

You take another sip hoping that the sugar will be enough to keep you up.

When you pull up just by the size of the outside of the building Henry was taken so back, but that was nothing compared to his face when he got inside.

“Holy shit Baby! This is like a fuckin’ mansion how do you not get lost? What do you do to live here?”

“I uh, I run a fashion magazine, and help design stuff, CEO of the company now actually,” you say feeling flustered hearing him calling you “Baby” again.

“God damn!”

“Yeah it’s pretty nice.”

“That’s an understatement.”

You laugh as he looks around.

“Okay so I’ll show you the bathroom so you can showers, and then I’ll just give you some men’s designs I have lying around here, then we can go out and I can get you a few things,”

“Hot water,” Henry says as you start walking him to one of the bathrooms.

“Huh?”

“That’s another small thing you miss, hot water.”

“They didn’t give you hot water?”

“They did at first, but then the damn shower busted and they never got it fixed.”

“Well you can take all the hot water you want, just leave your clothes on the chair there and uh I guess I’ll uh-”

“Burn em.”

“You want me to burn them?”

“I ain’t ever wearin’ that shit again, not like you wanna keep it.”

“Okay noted. I’ll burn it, and I’ll leave you fresh stuff in the guest room 2nd door to the left from here.”

He nods and starts stripping before you leave, making you laugh.

“Can you wait till I leave?”, you joke.

“Ain’t nothing you ain’t seen before,” he smirks, making your slight blush come back.

“Yeah well it’s been a while since I’ve seen it. I don’t know if anything’s changed<” you tease and drift your eyes downward.

“Only for the better Darlin’ not much to do in that hellhole, but walk around, watch the shit they had on the tv, read somethin’, or workout.”

You laugh again and shut the door, heading to your design room. to get him something casual, but nice. You luckily had some down played stuff from a shoot coming up. Sure you liked fresh stuff on your models, but you could always wash the stuff, and have it pressed to restore it.

You quickly retrieve his outfit from the bathroom and lit your fire place throwing in stuff one by one slowly so it doesn’t grow too large, then grab some more caffeine to stay awake.

Oh yeah you were going to for sure gong to crash at like 7 or 8 tonight and there was no way you were going to try and go in today, you’d be falling asleep during any meetings.

You pick up your phone, calling Addison again to let her know.

“Hey Girl.”

“Hey.”

“I just wanted to let you know that the maybe has definitely turned into a no go today, I am exhausted.”

“Aw I’m sorry, make sure you get some rest tonight okay?”

“Oh trust me I will soon. Just wanted to let you know that way you knew that you and Mark were still in charge and heads of the meetings and all that. I mean you can call or text if you need something during them of course, but yeah just wanted to give you a heads up on that. Plus they are smaller meeting anyway so I know for sure you guys will handle them perfectly.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course,” you say as you hear the shower finally shut off.

“I gotta go, but good luck I know you two will do great!”

“Alright. Thanks for the heads up. I can put an extra shot of espresso into your latte if you want.”

“Oh yes! I know I’ll definitely need it, I know I’m still gonna come in tired despite how much sleep I get tonight God knows I won’t wanna get up thanks. Okay see ya.”

“Bye.”

You turn around and your breath hitches for a minute when you see Henry in the outfit you had chosen. He almost looked entirely different then he did when you picked him up now that he was in actual clothes.

“So how do i look Sweetheart could I be in Vogue or what?,” he jokes striking a ridiculous pose with a smolder on his face.

“Sure.

You let him pick out whatever he liked, along with helping him with a few things, and making sure he head a few nicer pieces and a suit, then go to the barber’s shop.

“Okay I know it’ll be shocking and all, but Hen....the mullet has to go you need to update your look for a full 2016 makeover.”

The look on his face was priceless.

You tell the guy how to fix it at least a bit, making sure the mullet goes, he could style it up if he wanted, but something told you he would just leave it with the slight bangs he had. either way it was for sure an upgrade.

When he was done he looked in the mirror, ran his hand through it a bit, you could tell he liked it. Then he puts his hand on the back of his neck, feeling it.

“Feels weird. Like I always had it.”

You laugh.

“You look good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you find yourself leaning in, in the slightest way to kiss him before catching yourself, your phone ringing saved you so you stepped out to take it. It was Addison making sure of a few things before the meeting started, but you were thankful for her timing.

You went back in mentally kicking yourself for that. Hoping he didn’t notice, which it didn’t seem he did. Like it would be weird after all this time to just pick things back up where they left off right?

Like it had been forever and sure he may have been being flirty all day, but that could also just be because you were taking him in. Also would he even want that?

You shake your thoughts and then go to the apple store where you had the field day of teaching him his way around a modern phone. Were you spoiling him a bit? Yes. But you couldn’t help it, despite these feelings coming back, you wanted him to be able to find his way around the city, even if it wasn’t by your side.

Once you leave of course it starts to rain, you quickly rush into the house, changing into comfy clothes and grabbing a blanket. You eventually drift off, waking up somehow in your bed to the loud crash of thunder.

Did Henry carry you here? How long did it take him to find your room? Did he tuck you in or did you just pull up the blankets yourself? The thunder takes you out of your thoughts along with a squeaking sound.

You check your phone it was midnight, you fell asleep around 7, and you had around 5 maybe 6 more hours before you had to get up, and head into the office. While you did wanna go back to sleep, you still felt pretty refreshed from that nap. First thing first though you wondered what that noise was.

You pull on a hoodie and quickly find your source when Henry’s door was open. You see him toss and turn, seeming to be stuck in a nightmare. You knew he hated storms back then, they were harsh and loud, and reminded him of the lashes his father gave him.

It made sense that without any form of comfort over all these years, along with whatever else piled on top of that, that he would still be afraid. He wakes up in a gasp, wiping the cold sweat off of his forehead.

You gently knock on the door he looks over and slightly smiles seeing you.

“Hey,” you gently say.

“Hey Doll.”

“You still hate storms.”

He nods.

“Yeah. Yeah they're the fuckin’ worst.”

“Well now that we’re both up you uh, you want me to make some cocoa?”

“Yeah..sounds nice.”

“You still want that dash of cinnamon?”

“Please.”

“You got it”

He sits on the couch, hugging one of your pillows, as you get to work on the cocoa., when it’s finished you add the final touches, and can’t help but sneak a glance at him shirtless, when he releases the pillow to take the mug.

He was definitely right in that joke earlier you notice that he for sure had lots of muscle still built up. You try and shake yourself out of your thoughts, but this time it just holds there.

“Um do you wanna sleep in my room tonight? It just sounds like your fear has gotten worse. I’d hate to leave you alone with that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Once the cocoa is done, you put the mugs in the sink and go back to the couch. The thoughts cloud your mind again when he lays next to you, and you want nothing more than to either be held or to hold him. You just decide to let it out before it bottles up.

“Hey Henry?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you um...do you still have feelings for me?”

“That obvious huh?”

That took you for surprise.

“No actually I was in my head all day about it. When I got that phone call the other night some feelings came back, but once I got into Derry and saw you again they hit me like a damn bus. I just wasn’t sure how you felt.”

“Well now you do, the thoughts of you were the only thing that could get me to even crack a smile in that shit hole.”

“Do you...do you still love me?”

“Princess I never stopped.”

You lean up and finally after all these years kissed him again, and that was the final nail in the coffin with every single emotion blasting through your body. You pull away and he caresses your face.

“You had no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do that all day or to just do it again for so long.”

“Come ere’,” you say and as if it’s nothing has changed.

You remember the first time he came to you in the rain, not caring it was pouring or storming, he needed you after a particularly rough time from his dad. It was also the first time he came to you after his dad, and after a bit of comfort he told you the truth.

He shifted over into your arms, and you started to do what always used to calm him down, running your fingers through his hair.

“I missed you,” he says smiling up at you.

You kiss him again and quickly drift off again, getting back together with Henry or even really seeing Henry again was definitely not how you would have expected to spend a day, but you weren’t complaining.

He was here in your arms again and you were going to be here for him this time. You would be here to help him heal, to help him grow, and everything else.

#it chapter 2 #the bowers gang #henry bowers #henry bowers imagine #henry bowers x reader #teach grant

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madllamamomma · 4 years

Text

I Think I Have a Problem.... (A personal true story).

So as the title suggests, I have a strange problem…. Just as a warning, this is about my view of my younger self. It is about religion, and gender identity. This is not how I see the world anymore. It was how I told how the world should look. If you are offended in any way, please know this is a vent post and nothing to hurt anyone else. This is just what happened to me as a child. Shit….. This is about to get very long winded, so buckle up and here we go… *takes deep breath*

So a little backstory on your Mother Llama: I was raised in a weird backward ass “Independent” Baptist church most of my young life. If you guys don’t know what those are, be thankful…. But I guess I should explain it the best way I can…. they are a borderline cult. Yes. I said it. I’m not sorry. It may sound like an extreme accusation, but hold on. Just listen to me.

Now, I have no problem with Christians, or religion. You should believe whatever you want to believe in…. I do however, have a problem when religion is used as an excuse to not educate minds about the real world, force them to not let them think for themselves, and when someone questions any of it, they are punished or shamed for it instead of thinking about an answer. If you can’t tell, I am still a little angry about that shit. Imma try to keep on topic here….

I wasn’t taught science (real science anyways, it was all about ‘creation’ bs—OH! And being anything but a cis straight person was compleltly unexceptable. Woman were the weaker sex and were made to raise babies and take care of the husband. Men were superior and should be taken care of.) nor about World history or about other cultures, other than biblical of course. And when they were mentioned, they made them look evil and behave like heathens because they didn’t believe the same as they did. Everything changed when I went to public school half of fourth grade when my family moved to a different state and there wasn’t any church school like I went to. I learned a lot those years, that ‘The World’ wasn’t as bad of a place as they said it was. It was vast and had many things to offer. (No, not the World, Dio’s stan power from Jojo’s bizarre adventures—that is what our pastors called anything outside of the Baptist approved realm. Something ‘Worldly’ was basically something sinful and ungodly and therefor was bad and wrong).

So this may seem like a strange Segway in to what I am actually getting at, but I had a huge crush on this boy back when I was young and it started when I was about 12 or 13 years old and ended when I was 16. He was the same age as me, and he was the son of a pastor of a small church of about 20 people, mostly military families— we will call him.... D.... for dick...

I thought for a long time that I ‘loved’ D. I thought that ‘God made him for me’ (yes I really said that and it hurt to even write it). I really thought I knew what love was back then, but I was very wrong.

D was homeschooled, he didn’t have many friends and was also a navy brat like I was. So, naturally, we got along very well, and I would hang out with him at his house sometimes. We mainly played video games I was terrible at and he would always bet me. But I liked hanging out with him, so I didn’t care if I won or not. My heart for some reason was totally head over heels over D. And he liked me too for a while… or at least I thought he did… He however never made a move. I always thought D was just too shy, and didn’t know how to ask me. Any time I tried holding his hand, I’d chicken out. It was a stalemate. But this particular church did a thing where people had to court. Yes... COURT someone, not DATE (Courting is where you had adult chaperones keeping an eye on you two, you were never really alone. Ever, because apparently you can’t be trusted?). When we both turned 15 yo, D started a private Christian school. Being the awkward girl I was, I never told him how I felt, I just waiting for him to say something. Time passed, and I still waited and waited for him to ask me out.

But here’s the thing! He didn’t know the real me.

I was in public school, in middle school, and I started to become a weeb. Like a super cringy weeb that didn’t like anything else but anime—I was also kinda emo/punk kid thought I was edgy. (Yeah rock music was bad too, it was ‘Worldly’).Not a very good mix for Baptist I know. At school, I was one person, and at church I was another.

Well, being an anime fan meant I was exposed to a lot of things like the LGTB+ community for the first time. A lot of my friends at the time started to come out other than straight and that was very new to me.

During that time, I soon was starting to secretly question my faith, my understanding of my own sexuality and gender. Like, maybe people liking the same sex or both is actually not a bad thing after all (if you haven’t seen any of my works, hopefully you guys know that I know better that what I was taught—I am a proud fuckin’ ally! I still consider myself cis-straight, but some days I feel like I’m bi-curious, and that’s ok! It took me a long time to realize that, but I’m here now. Gender roles are dead and stupid.)

So here is the kicker~ One faithful day we had a guest pastor join us for a few weeks from another church. This mother fuckin’ nasty ass old white man from Alabama came with his ‘perfect quiet godly’ wife. Who badly ever spoke a damn word. She always just sat in the corner all ‘ladylike’.

—Oh!!! Another fun fact, I didn’t wear pants for a year when I was 10 yo becasue that was considered “cross dressing”— I’m dead fucking serious. My parents then decided after attending sporting events and stuff like that to drop that ludicrous lifestyle, becasue it was stupid. So, Outside of church, my family and I still wore pants and shorts and whatever, but in church we pretended that we didn’t wear anything but modest skirts, dresses, and long culottes. (That’s a little damaging…. don’t you think? Telling people your one thing, when in reality you're not like that at all??)

Anyways— I hated skirts, especially wearing them in the state we lived in, it was way too hot and I’d get chafed (these had to be knee length or longer btw). And of course that guest preacher would preach about the sins of women wearing pants, but I didn’t care. I wore them for so long, it just made me angry anytime someone would bring that up. I liked my jeans and I was starting to become a rebel teen who gave less than a fuck and started to speak my mind. Which was dangerous to that community…. Also I had a bad tendency of not keeping my legs together when I bent down, and one time I accidently showed my underwear (that’s really embarrassing btw, it’s not cute, it’s not funny, it’s awful when you're 14 yo-- really any age actually).

So, one day I wore a long jean skirt for a youth outing with the church. I was required to wear it, but I always wore leggings underneath so I wouldn’t accidentally show my undies if I fell down or the wind blew it. This fucker had to say something about it. The old man turned to me with a wrinkled smirk as I was passing by him and dared to utter, “Now, don’t you feel most femine and ladylike in that skirt? I’m sure Jesus would like seeing you like that.”

My shoulders clench up tight, my brow furrows. All I can remember seeing is fucking red and actually trembling with fury. (This was happening in my pastor, D’s father’s, own living room mind you.) D was there watching as I blanched about ten shades of red in anger and embarrassed because that prick of an old man called me out in front of everyone. I turned to him and half shouted, “NO! I don’t!” I could see my pastor’s mouth drop to the floor as I began to completely obliterate this old man. But I couldn't stop myself as I started to further cut into him. “—I hate wearing skirts! I don’t feel ladylike! In fact, they make me feel vulnerable! What if some guy tries to rape me! They won’t have any problem getting to me!—Why is something with a whole on the bottom more ladylike than something that actually covers me?! I like pants! They are comfortable and they make me feel safe! Why is that a sin to wear something that is more covering?!?! I’m not cross dressing, my mom bought them in the girl’s session!! [Keep in mind that was a long time ago, I don’t feel like people should care about what section they get their clothes from, wear what you want] And what do you know about wearing a skirt?! You’re a man! You try wearing them! They suck! You need to stop telling me what I can and can’t wear! I’m not dressing like a whore for wearing something with a crotch!! SO LEAVE ME ALONE!!” Everyone in the living room was just stunned at my audacity to dare speak to this pastor like I did. But he was so fucking quiet after that. And I stormed out of the house and the guest pastor never spoke to me again about it. Luckily my mom came and picked me shortly after that. She was angry too after I told her what happened. That old fuck singled me out and I was pissed off. I was a teenager and that shit was embarrassing!

But I made the mistake of showing my true self. I think after that moment, D stopped liking me after that.

Some shit went down south with my parents behind closed doors of my household, and eventually they got divorced. They left the small church because the pastor didn’t approve of it. Pastor said that my parents just needed more counseling but he didn't understand that they just needed to not be together. Sometimes you can’t make things work. Especially when your dad is a toxic piece of shit that only cares about himself.

Anyways, everyone in my family left the church, but I stuck around that shit-hole just to see if D would ask me out. I was so desperate, I felt like I waited forever, but really it was like 2-3 years, and I felt like I couldn’t give up. Eventually D and I turned 16. He started to become distant and a little mean towards me and I became confused and started to realize the worst. Finally, I was tired of waiting so I asked his older sister if he liked me on the way back taking me home. I could see it in her face, that she didn’t want to have my heart broken, but reluctantly she told me no. He actually liked another girl at his new private school and was going to ask her parents to court her instead.

I was so devastated.... It hurt so much, I cried myself to sleep that night, and most of that week I was very sad.

Obviously, after that, I stopped going to church entirely, I couldn't show my face anymore. Finally let myself question my faith, sexuality, gender roles, and humanity all together. And realized that religion was stupid (in my opinion at the time) and I came u with the conclusion that people can be sheep. I was a sheep for a long time. And I refuse to be one ever again.

High school was very enjoyable after that, and I let myself grow and started to love other religions and world history, and tried to stop being so judgmental of others and what they felt like. I even got into a relationship with a sweet boy around my age.

Eventually in college, after a break-up with my high school sweetheart, I reconnected with D via FB. Apparently, the church went under and his parents moved away to Greece to be missionaries or something. D still lives in the same town I’m in, but graduated from a “Christian academy”—not Catholic, Christian. Catholic colleges are accredited at least. But he basically told me he was a secret “bad boy” now. He lost his virginity in highschool, (like I did) and he was totally trying to booty call me. Not even hiding it either! He was like, “Hey, Llama, you wanna fuck?”.

And I was like, “D! You broke my fucking heart when we were young! Don’t you remember that???”

And he was like, “Oh no! I had no idea! (the fuckin’ liar). Well, we can fuck now!~ *wink, wink*”

🤨

This is where I was a jerk.... Because he broke my heart. I led him on, told him I would meet up with him at his house to sleep with him, and just didn’t show up—ghosted him ever since. The worst part about that, is I still don’t regret doing that to him. I hope I hurt his feelings and felt like an ass like I did.

So years have passed, I consider myself as a rather successful woman now. I’m 27, I consider myself Buddhist (I am a terrible Buddhist I know), I am an Occupational Therapy Assistant and I have a great husband (I married the guy I was with in high school). And he loves the real me—the crazy closet weeb, cartoon watching, creative, expressive, me! The person who also writes fanfiction about a romance novel and he is fine with it. Because he is a huge nerd too and we are both nerds together.

My husband is my best friend and I don’t know what I’d do without him. When I write about Rhemi and Muriel, I draw a lot of inspiration with our conversation we have and how relationship dynamics are and I think it makes the writing more authentic and makes them feel a bit more real.

I love my husband more than anything… So why do I keep dreaming about that stupid asshole that just liked the fake me? D was and always will be a total tool. He is like the basic bitch of a man. And yet I still find him creeping in my dreams and I try to cheat on my husband with him in them. I wake up feeling totally terrible and weird after them too. D is a terrible fucking person—the worst person you can be in my opinion—The kind of person why lies and tells people one thing, but hides the fact that he’s really just a nasty fuck boy. If you are one, just be honest! Don’t tell another woman you're a good christan man, when really you’ve slept with not just one, but multiple girls! That how you get fucking STDs! I hate being lied to, and I’m sure other girls do too! So I guess that’s why I do, because I felt like I was lied to my entire life. Then again, why should I even care?! Why do I feel like I still obsess over him? I hate him so much now! So why do I even care? Why do I still find myself stalking him on social media? Why does it even matter? Why do I want him to see I’m happy without him? Why do I want him to see what he could have had with me? We were just stupid teenagers! Why did I care so much? Why did it hurt so much when I found out he didn’t like me?! It’s been over a decade, and we didn’t even really date! Why did this affect me so hard? …. FUCK!

So yeah. That’s my long ass rant for you all… thanks for coming to my ted talk.

#story time #mad llama momma story #true story #weird dreams #why does my brain do this?#anybody relate?#does anyone get me?#vent post

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rogueninja · 4 years

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Okay so we all know who your top ships are... who are your unpopular ships? Or obscure ships? What characters from what series do you think about often in either good or bad ways? Who is a character that you hate that others love? If you could rewrite a story or part of a book, what would it be and what would you do differently?

Ok I am digging through my brain right now bc if I’m not able to hyperfixate on something then I tend to forget I even liked it. Ok buckle in bc this is gonna be long af. YOU ASKED FOR THIS, REG.

I’m putting a readmore so as not to torture my followers lol

Thinking about Veronica Mars. About Veronica/Logan. Do they have a ship name?? But I love that show and i was THERE for them. They were kind of a surprise ship for me, in that when they got together I was like, wait, WHAT? Like I was totally caught off guard. But there first kiss is, like, sooo romantic to me haha. It’s my fave scene in the show. But Logan is suck a prick sometimes. And they break up like every five minutes. And every season Logan gets accused of murder which of course he ends up not being the murderer. And they get back together eventually and I’m like really? But deep down I am rooting for them lol. I really enjoyed the new season of Veronica Mars that came out last year, actually. The ending made me SO SAD THO.

I also used to watch Supergirl and I thought Kara and Mon-El were adorable. He was very Carswell Thorne-esque, RH, I *think* you would like him. I never watched past season 3(?) though, and he shoots off into space and I never caught up so a few months ago I actually googled what happens and [spoiler] he ends up marrying someone else in the future or something so I was like, ok I’m not investing any more time in this show lol. (Also I had to google Mon-El’s name just now bc i forgot which is a bad look BUT I WAS REALLY RIDE OR DIE FOR THEM FOR A WHILE lol). Also I loved Martian Manhunter in this show, he was my favorite character. But the CGI for him was awful, omg. He had practical makeup at first, they should have just stuck with that.

Speaking of Martian Manhunter, I also used to watch Young Justice and loved Miss Martian/Superboy. Am I basic??? lol oop. But I love basic love stories. Anyway, I thought they were super cute. In season 3 though they’re kind of on the rocks. I haven’t watched season 4. I also loved Artemis/Wally West, but of course that had to end tragically.

Also, let’s talk about Nightcrawler. Allow me to set the scene. Little Kat is 13 and just rediscovered the cartoon she saw a few times as a kid called X-Men: Evolution. And thus, a weird obsession with the German, blue demon boy began. I loved Kurt Wagner. In the cartoon he starts a relationship with Amanda Sefton and I thought they were a-dor-a-ble. She accepted him for who he was, and they had a really nice healthy relationship. A lot of ppl shipped him with Kitty too which i am honestly all for idec I JUST WANT THE BLUE BOI TO BE HAPPY.

Can we talk about A:TLA too??? Like, obviously Zutara, amiright? Power couple. Like, Kataang is.. fine, but its probably my least favorite part about the ending, haha. Also, consider: Tokka. Toph is bae and can get anyone she wants, and she clearly had kind of a crush on Sokka and I think they could have been awesome. It actually kills me that they never say who Lin and Suyin’s father is in LoK. I had a whole theory that it was that kid The Duke from Jet’s band based on like 2 scenes from the series. There’s a tumblr post I made about it somewhere in the ether lol.

I also just remembered Tahnorra (Tahno/Korra) from Legend of Korra. It’s hard for me to explain this one. It’s a weird combination of being hyperfixated on the first season of the show when it came out, and I think I stumbled upon some fic or something???? And I thought Tahno was hot or something??? And FUN FACT, he was voice by Rami Malek BEFORE HE WAS COOL. So like before Rami really got big I knew who he was. He also basically played the Avatar in Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 2 and I thought that connection was hilarious. It was kind of a problematic crack pairing but there was one author in particular whom i follow to this day hoping she’ll update her Tahnorra fics…. *sigh*

Okay one last ship…. I used to be ride or die for Outlaw Queen in Once Upon a Time (aka Regina/Robin Hood). Like, before TLC, I had a personal tumblr renaissance for that ship alone. My only existing published fanfic is for that ship. Taylor Swift’s 1989 came out that year and I related every dang song to that ship. I loved Regina so much and I just wanted her to be happy. That show is a dumpster fire, though, and spat all over my hopes and dreams. *sigh*

Also, lightning round for obscure pairings I ship and/or never talk about:

Frank Castle/Karen Page (The Punisher) ok this one isnt that obscure but I never talk about it… but the pining, oh god the pining

Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth (GoT) THEIR 5 SECONDS TOGETHER ARE THE ONLY WORTHY PART OF SEASON 8. everything after that never happened

I already listed Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye (FMAB) as a top pairing previously but I feel the need to mention it again bc it was for real my OG OTP… LIKE U WANNA TALK ABOUT PINING…. *sobs*

Percy/Annabeth (Percy Jackson and the Olympians) This used to be my fave book series and i loved how their relationship developed over the course of the books

Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter) ok can we TALK ABOUT THIS??? They were both badass misfits and they were perfect for each other. But noooo JKR has to announce they marry some nobodies…. this is the only change the last movie did right

Midna/Link (Zelda: Twilight Princess) I honestly have no explanation for this lol

Qui-gon Jinn and Shmi (Star Wars) CAN U IMAGINE if anakin had a proper father figure and didnt have to abandon his mother to slavery

Obi-wan/Satine…. (Star Wars: The clone Wars) we know whats up

OK, to answer some of your other questions: character I hate that others love. HMMMM…….

This one seems too easy/obvious but Professor Snape? Like obviously there’s already a ton of discourse surrounding this but he was gross, mistreated his students for years, committed atrocities, couldn’t get over his high school crush, and we’re supposed to believe he’s a hero in the end and HARRY WOULD NAME HIS SON AFTER HIM….. uh no. “Always” is gross.

I’ve literally been wracking my brain for days and I can’t think of any more characters for this. OK I did some googling and I remembered some LOL.

Ross from friends…. I literally can’t stand him. He’s so entitled and just the worst. He tries to act like he’s the nice, sensitive guy, but really he is so full of himself. Joey on the other hand is portrayed as a womanizer but is actually super sweet and I love him

Archie from Riverdale… I have only seen the first 1.5 seasons ish but he is the worst…. we’re supposed to believe he’s some easygoing musically gifted football player but instead he manages to pull off being bland as heck and actually kind of a terrible garbage person

Nick from chilling adventures of Sabrina. I hate characters that are like hitting on the main character even though she has a bf and are like dark and broody and sexy blah blah blah…. I liked Harvey way better. I never finished season 2 tho

Emma Swan from Once Upon a Time? Idk she was fine she just got old after a while

If you could rewrite a story or part of a book, what would it be and what would you do differently?

HM. First, Harry would name his son Remus Rebeus Potter LOL. Ok but real talk there was a headcanon floating around forever ago that Harry should have become a professor at Hogwarts instead of an auror and I am 100% on board

Ok, ok….. what abouuuttt…… OK, is star wars when Han and Leia get together. I like them as a couple, but the entire first half of the movie Han is being such an ass. And when they kiss the first time, he’s being SOOO creepy. It’s like so quintessentially 80s romance. and HERE’S THE THING. They actually filmed (or maybe just wrote?) a version of that scene that WASNT CREEPY. And i’m like WHY DIDNT YOU USE THAT?!? So I like to pretend that’s the version that actually happened.

This part is way harder than the shipping portion. If I think of anything else i’l dm you. I HOPE YOU ENJOY READING THIS NOVEL LENGTH POST OF ME RAMBLING ABOUT MY FIXATIONS OVER THE LAST 10 YEARS. If anyone actually read this far, you deserve a cup of hot chocolate and a blanket

#regolithheart #ask #answered

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parismemes · 5 years

Text

SENTENCE STARTERS FROM VARIOUS TRAVES VIDEOS.

“you don’t even have to give me money, just say who you want me to kill.” “*gasp* that’s swag!” “you’re not an epic gamer if you don’t use the epic gamer lingo.” “i didn’t start a threat at all!” “okay, who said that? who’s dumb?” “remember when we met 2 and a half years ago and i shook your hand awkwardly?” “what are you, fangirling?” “oh. it’s one of THOSE nights.” “you wanna start a business together?” “a drone strike? NOT AGAIN!” “i wanna meet obama, make it happen.” “i spent a bunch of money at a fucking panera bread earlier and i’ll never go there again.” “oh, uh. i found a dead body.” “as soon as my beard touches my toes i have to shave it.” “this horse is terrible!” “you’re an ounce?” “i shit downwards too.” “i’ll have you know my demographic is under 12.” “YOU CAN FACETIME SNAPCHAT?” “if you see an albino and it’s snowing outside how can you tell you’ve seen an albino?” “you can tell it’s a person ‘cause of the way it is.” “oh no, i’m getting money, i’m gonna complain about it.” “can you say uwu?” “ahoy spongebob me boy, i’ve committed arson and now i’m serving 10 year jail sentence.” “all aboard the steve buscemi train.” “wait, how do you spell giraffe?” “i’ve snorted an entire suitcase of ketamine, i’m going to fucking die.” “not to be racist but fuck squidward tentacles.” “yeah bro, what IS a tiddy?” “i just want a book. one book. please?” “i need to start some sort of a fucking revolution or shit. something epic.” “i want you to go get rid of the rest of your financial assets, because i hate you.” “that’s you putting a middle finger in my ass!” “this world we live in is made up of demons.” “i’m being dunked on by a 15 year old!” “if we die at all, we’re gone.” “do something funny, jester.” “UH OH! UH OH! UH OH! UH OH! UH OH! UH OH!” “HIT ME IN THE BACK WITH THE AXE!” “there’s a huge peepee and ball on mario.” “wait, i actually have the GENIUS idea.” “just give me your village, i’m taking it.” “i don’t want you guys to shenanigize my house.” “i’m about to go to my house and scream very loudly.” “i just clenched my butt.” “that’s dirt. that’s not a chicken.” “THERE’S CHICKENS ALL OVER THE PLACE, MAN!” “get your bones! they’re gonna evaporate!” “you are stuck between a rock and a hard cock right now, dude.” “the other thought was to use the bouncy castle to illegally obtain cash.” “this guy is so smart. this guy is on another level.” “alright boys. mystery meat part 2.” “don’t kill the turtle!” “who’s gonna get his remains?” “i don’t think critical thinking is the strong suit.” “i’m just giving away money now, i’m like jeff amazon.” “i’ll kill the bird for five dollars.” “i feel like you should turn off your computer, it’s bedtime.” “WE WERE SO CLOSE!” “this is the saddest thing that’s ever happened to me.” “doesn’t sound wholesome.” “i’m completely fine with going to court for this.” “you are a part of the boys, as they say.” “is this like a bruh moment?” “this isn’t even about the bird.” “tell me what your relationship was with this bird.” “did you or did you not kidnap the bird?” “you’re a lil shit, huh?” “they call me salad because i be dressin’.” “they call me dressin’ because i’m.. yum.” “there’s not gonna be a cars 4.” “i fuckin’ love cars.” “so i got this new keyboard, and then a month and a half later i spill this sticky drink on it.. and i was like aw, sick! and then it got sticky and then a few days later it dried but the keys were like super hard to press and then i ran hot water over the keyboard and ran it under the faucet and now the keys aren’t hard to press anymore.” “it’s crazy how you guys are blinking manually now.” “wanna listen to me hydrate?” “that’s actually kinda yucky.” “i’m a shit boy, i eat boxes.” “i absolutely folded like an armchair when you said that.” “should i fall asleep in discord with the homies?” “i’ll just play some eating ASMR so you can relax.” “i’ve never even seen alcohol in my LIFE. i’m a pisces.” “i don’t have a tumor! i don’t need tumor removal surgery! don’t say these things about me!” “my hair smells like wood.” “i dunno what that banana meant, but i’m kinda scared.” “you wanna hear a door joke? knock knock.” “a dolphin walked into the bars. tide.” “my mom just asked me why the shampoo was in the kitchen sink.” “i’m gonna shave your head while you sleep if you try and do that shit.” “would you wanna wash your hair over the dining table?” “you can’t just say it’s not gross!” “do you pee in that sink too?” “ahaaa don’t kill yourself you’re beautiful ahaaaaa.” “you are just LEAF!”

#rp memes #ask memes #rp meme #ask meme #rp prompts #sentence starters

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 5 years

Text

The Supernatural Series

Someone buzzed the door to the Bunker. The footsteps inside the bunker drained it out, familiar voices all muffled. They sighed, with perhaps the hint of a smile, and put the parcel at the gate. Hefty cartons of books. But not of the peculiar lore that the boys read most often. They were story books. Yet far from fiction.

They walked away, noiselessly.

The Supernatural Series, all the books to 300, securely packaged, would wait until another case was tracked and the boys were off, to be found.

***

A grey evening, Dean found Cas with his nose in one of those Chuck-Shurley books they'd found on their doorstep, almost a month ago. Cas was seated at the library table, reading in the dim, but without the necessary crease in his forehead which would have been, were he reading about monsters, following a victim's death.

Cas had gotten ahead of all of them. Sam had been reading extensively too, but Cas had the advantage of night-time reading too, and when the bunker fell silent and was enveloped in sleep, he would spend hours, reading through the works of his father - reading about his friends and family, and sometimes himself.

Sam, Dean remembered, was just finishing the Dean's demon arc, and Dean - who'd not really been a part of the reading tournament, nor was interested to be - had been reading random works that piqued his interest, or Sam and Cas recommended.

When Dean walked into the library, and assumed the seat in front of Cas, he made the angel look up at him.

"This," Cas spoke, almost reverently. "This one's a good one, Dean. 'The Future'."

Dean crinkled his eyes into a smile. "God and cliched titles, am I right?"

"It's quite aptly titled." Cas replied simply, putting the book on the table, with his finger patiently on the page where he'd stopped reading, to give his attention to Dean. "Are you finished with Baby, Dean?"

He nodded.

"Why don't you start 'Regarding Dean'?" Cas smiled.

Dean rolled his eyes at the title. "I feel so special."

"Read with me, please." Cas passed the book to him - he'd kept it by him, waiting for Dean to return and their routine to begin. "It was an amusing read. I know you'll enjoy it."

***

Dean couldn't look up from the book. 'Stuck in the middle'. Had he lived all of this? It seemed like the first time, somehow.

It was difficult to imagine, he'd skipped all of these books the first time he skimmed through the series - as Cas recommended books to him - but now as Sam followed Cas's reading along, he forced Dean to read at least seven books, a week.

"They're splendid! You have to read these, Dean! I do not get why Cas passed over these!" Sam had said, handing Dean 'Goodbye Stranger', a long time back now. That day, Dean had sat reading next to Castiel, closer than usual.

He'd come to know of a lot of things.

A lot of things.

***

"You almost killed yourself, Dean!" Cas barged into Dean's room, the source of his anger in his hand, a neat and new copy of 'Lost and Found' clutched in his hand. He's furious, and it's visible in the uncharacteristic glare he throws in Dean's direction. But his anger melts in a fraction of a second.

Dean looks up at him, miserable and heartbroken, and names what has made him this pathetic, "I'm no Angel."

Cas recognizes the book instantly, and gulps as he remembers all that happened in it.

"You needed me!" Dean's voice cracked, as he got to his feet and began to heave himself towards the angel. "You've given up so much for me, and I couldn't help you the one time you needed me! I chucked you out, and I didn't even leave you money, or give you any help! I could've done something to make it better - you were homeless, you were - you didn't even have food! And I fucking made you leave the very evening you helped save our asses again! I am such a -"

He collapsed in Cas's arms, as the latter held him up resiliently, hugging him back for support. "I know it wasn't you, it was Gadreel - I don't blame you -"

As if Cas's pleas fell on deaf ears, Dean continued to berate himself, his face buried in his best friend's chest. "I am so sorry, for everything! I don't deserve you, Cas. You're too good to me, and I'm, I'm such a shitty friend - I'm sorry!"

"Its okay," Cas muttered, meaning it a million times more than he said it, until Dean stopped trembling in his arms, and crying about what a terrible friend he was. "Its okay." He repeated when Dean apologized for his breakdown, mere moments after he'd recomposed himself. "Its okay," He smiled, when Dean apologized for asking him if he could spend the night in his room so that Dean could sleep and not read anymore. He added a, "Of course, Dean."

***

Dean and Cas realized, a day and a half later, that they together have a wondrous total of things to apologize to Sam for.

The youngest hunter never held a single thing against them, never brought up any of the injustices they did to him, never even batted an eye before laying his life on the line for them all. He, at the very least, deserved an apology

"...for being a whining bitch about Purgatory, and Amelia, when you let me live with - er - Lisa and Ben, and away from the hunting life, for a year. And for beating the shit outta you when you were soulless, because I was a dumbass. For ever doubting that you had anything else in mind, but good. For killing your werewolf friend, while you let Benny live." Dean practised in front of the bathroom mirror. "For that one time, when I said that we weren't brothers if you walked out - because I'm not Dad, Sam! And I'm sorry for all the times I behaved like him..."

It was kind of a long monologue.

But when push came to shove, it ended up being cut short by Sam marching forward, and hugging his brother fiercely, when he was not even halfway through. He let Dean drag him to his height, as happened whenever they hugged, and he forbade Dean from going on about it anymore.

"Its okay." Sam swore. "You don't need to count them off your fingers. I get it. I don't think about those times, Dean. Why should you, anymore?"

And when Dean opened his mouth to protest, Sam swatted the air to quieten him. "I know I didn't make a list on an Old Yellow Legal Pad or anything, but Dean, I'm sorry too."

"Your list would be way shorter than mine." Dean muttered. "This way or that, Sammy, you ought to have reminded me, someday, if I went on about being a good brother - that I wasn't one."

"Listen here, you jerk," Sam was full-on defensive, and ready to fight. "We both had some crappy moments in the past. But that doesn't change the fact, that you're a great brother." He paused, and grinned, looking a lot younger. "True, you were a far better brother when we were kids than you've been, these last 10-12 years? But you know what? I'll take it. You're kind of the best brother I could ever have asked for." He muttered the last line, and it would've been lost, if Dean hadn't been standing right up next to him, and Cas hadn't had angel-hearing.

Sam turned to Cas, with his eyebrows raised. "What, you were here for emotional support, Cas?" He grinned.

"No, I too have actions to apologize for." Cas admitted. Sam shook his head, dismissively.

"Same goes for you, Cas," He insisted. "You're both my family. And I don't need to hear a checklist of things you've done wrong, to feel better."

Dean clicked his tongue, landing a hand on his brother's shoulder, proud and pleased.

"Nonetheless," Cas went on, a hint of a smile on his face. "I feel like I particularly need to address and apologize for my tendency to not respond to you, Sam. It was wrong, and I should've helped you more in those years."

"Huh," Sam mused. "That's something you did, ignore my prayers, didn't you?"

Cas nodded, embarrassedly. "Please believe, I'm very sorry -"

"Nah, it's cool," Sam shrugged. "The whole 'profound bond' thing you had with Dean, right? I get it."

Dean stifled a grin, while Cas hemmed and hawed for too long, earning a chuckle from Sam.

***

"What are you thinking about?" Dean nudged Cas with his elbow, because he'd caught Cas looking into the distance instead of into his book, 'Lebanon'.

"So much," Cas answered, softly. When he turned his head and continued speaking, he was only inches away from Dean. "Who gave these to us?"

Dean blinked. "I think about that all the time too."

"And," Cas went on. "Who wrote it? I mean, wasn't father - God writing the Winchester Gospel? But, he's not with us anymore. He left, with Amara, we all remember." Cas's eyes softened. "Then, who wrote it, Dean?"

"Isn't it possible that Chuck does god-stuff and cat-blogging during the day, and dishes out crap novellas with godspeed, at night?" Dean grinned, and Cas mirrored it, at such proximity.

"Not crap novellas." Cas held up his book, looking at the cover page, which had the Winchester family on it. "You know I'm old, Dean, and I've read extensively in all of my millions of years. This is one of the best stories I've ever read." He paused, as Dean sucked in a breath. "I won't say it's greatly written, for in literary style, it is dedicatedly average. But moderate prose doesn't defile the story, and the tale of you and Sam, is a spectacular one to behold."

Dean bit his lip. He didn't know what to say.

"I was also thinking of another thing," Cas kept speaking, as if his turn hadn't ended with that breathy last dialogue. "Does it happen because he writes it? Do all our lives entangle and entwined because he so wishes it? Or, does he merely write what he knows will happen?" Cas's eyes twinkled, with awe.

"Does it matter?" Dean whispered, his eyes straining not to look at Cas's lips too, even as they stare unblinking into his Angel's sky blue eyes.

"It could." Cas replied, a wise intonation in his voice. "You see, Dean, no one knows what will actually happen. Back when we angels were new on Earth and to you, we often claimed to know what would happen, didn't we? But that's the thing. It hardly ever did. Do you know why, Dean? Because its impossible to look into that which hasn't happened yet. For anyone. All we can do is know how the life of a particular individual shall unfold - but this too is entrapped in millions of probabilities and no certainty, because it's ever changing. And the fates of billions of humans like that one, need to be taken into measure, to get a glimpse of the future - and that's neither simple, nor accurate."

"So, Zachariah, or Lucifer or Michael were bullshitting us all that while?" Dean frowned.

"They were lying, in a way," Cas confessed. "Angels can predict the future, but its difficult. Humans can change it, and that's simple. Fate, in actuality, is an amalgamation of a million different futures, all strung together and changing each moment. What, at all, do we know - a man as you are, and an angel as I am - of fate, and the future? But a speck, Dean. And if," His speech held an even deeper note of poetry, even as he explained in a monotonous voice, the workings of the Universe, to a patient and keen listener. "God truly can see the future, don't you think Amara would've been dealt with better? Father was dying at the hands of his sister - wouldn't that be an event he'd have prevented if he foresaw it?"

Dean nodded, enraptured. Not just by Cas's words, or his manner of speaking - but the developing emotions on his face as he did.

Suddenly, the wave of seriousness seemed to pass, and Cas smiled - almost pleased that he'd gotten to talk to Dean about this, if nothing else. "And you, Dean? You weren't reading either. What were you thinking about?"

"Cas, I'm no you," Dean hesitated. "And I wasn't thinking of anything as grand as that."

"It won't be trivial to me, if it is of importance to you," Cas promised.

"Well," Dean shied, almost. Their eyes were still locked on each other's. "In the books, we often - uh - stare. At each other. A lot. I was just wondering if it was an exaggeration, or if we really look at each other, like that, that much?"

Cas stares back at him, and the gravity of his gaze renders Dean incapable of looking away, even if he wanted to. The warmth of the blue of Cas's eyes, had never ceased to amaze him. He could feel the feeling of Cas radiate through him, through an interlocking of mere visions. It was happy, reassuring, safe and homely. It was exciting, and cherishing, and one of sheer wonder. It was tingling, but it was familiar -

It struck Dean. "Did we just do it aga -"

Cas moved towards him at the exact same moment that Dean leaned in. They met in the middle, perfectly at ease, for all the throbbing in their chests - comfortably sliding into a kiss, with their lips fitting over the other's in a smooth harmony.

It may be their first kiss, but it feels like the most natural thing ever.

"Not to ruin the mood, Cas," Dean mumbled to Cas's ribs, as the angel ran his hand through Dean's hair as they lay on the bed together, Dean's head resting on Cas's chest. "But, Chuck - slash - your fucking Dad better not write about this. That'd be a whole 'nother level of crazy."

Cas smiled, and Dean could hear it in his breaths. "I don't really know what to say, Dean, because he did write in ample detail about your inte -uh, your time with Anna, in the Impala."

Dean lifted his head to frown at Cas pointedly. "You had to go there, didn't you?" Cas, still frowning, refused to react. Dean egged him on. "Though, Cas, ample details, huh? You've been paying extra attention or..?"

Cas hummed, and lifted his head from the pillow to plant a chaste kiss on Dean's smirking lips, probably as a means of not replying. But Dean couldn't mind less, and he enthusiastically replied.

The Author sipped from their cup of coffee, and rang for the delivery boy, with a smile. The story was on its way to the end, and a happy ending had begun to form.

HAPPY MISHAPOCALYPSE, CROUTONS!

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two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat · 4 years

Text

CW: transphobia, homophobia. Also pretty long and I'm on mobile so I cant put a read more thing on it.

Ok so this is kind of a personal post so if you don't wanna hear about some of my personal drama, just scroll along. But I feel like I need to get this shit on record somewhere since I don't have the screenshots of the texts this is concerning anymore.

So a little over a year ago, I told the person who'd been my best friend, we'll call her E, since I was about 9 that I didnt want to be friends with her anymore. More on that later.

Back in senior year of high school I started thinking I might be Bi. I brought this up to E and she was super dismissive right off that bat. Saying that I wasnt, sounding like she was trying to console me. Like being Bi was this awful thing that I needed to worry about.

Well fast forward about a year and a half and I went up to my college with her so I could do new student orientation since I was starting the next semester. This is when the fact that I was Bi sort of smacked me in the face because the girl doing my orientation was super hot. I immediately knew I wouldnt be telling E that.

Fast forward to march of 2017. Its spring break. I've reconnected with my high school friends. I've never felt the need to hide my sexuality from them and they were instantly nothing but supportive of me. We never really hung out outside of school back in high school (or in elementary school either in Eric's case.) I start realizing that I've been having more fun with them then I ever did with E. And I finally had people to geek out about sciencey stuff with because E doesnt believe in science but eric LOVES science. It was nice.

Well a couple weeks after spring break me and Es mutual friend Althea asked me to drive her to the shelter so she could get her boyfriends cat fixed (it's way cheaper there then at the vet) and spent the day hanging out with her because she WAS planning to walk back there to pick up the cat afterwards and I was like "uh no. I'm not gonna make you walk across town by yourself." So I finally got to meet her boyfriend. Well that afternoon E came and picked me up to go up to the KU campus to get some more bus passes to go to our college in KC because our school was out of bus passes and didnt know when theyd get more.

Here's when I kinda started to realize I should maybe get out of this friendship. On the way to campus E starts telling me about her day at school and how "theres a girl that used to be a guy in one of my teachers other classes. It's making me uncomfortable."

Me: "that sounds like a you problem, E."

Now I knew she kind of thought that way already. She may not have said shit like that around our other friends but I had to hear it a lot. But because I'm pretty nonconfrontational and she was my only close friend outside of school and I was terrified of being alone, I usually just ignored it or politely debated her about it but generally just agreed to disagree. This was the first time I ever decided to speak up to her about it. Unfortunately I couldnt say much cuz her mom was the one driving us and i knew she agreed with everything E said.

But I'd been hanging out with althea and her boyfriend (who just so happened to be trans) all morning so suddenly having to hear E talk about how uncomfortable trans people make her got me more fired up than usual.

After this I slowly started distancing myself from her. I'd been hoping for a few years that she'd grow up and accept that not everyone is like her and try to be more open minded and accepting of people. Apparently that wasnt happening.

I stopped responding to her texts as often. I was trying to think of a way to talk to her about it but all my past friendships that fell apart, did so naturally and on a silent mutual agreement. So I was half hoping that would happen. Pretty stupid. Dont recommend. Just be straight with people.

After a few months of me only answering her texts every once in a while, she decided to start calling me multiple times a week. Often while I was at work. Sometimes from her mom and sisters phones when I wouldnt answer from her number. Idk y she thought that would work. She knows I hate talking on the phone.

I still didnt know what to say to her. I probably should've just told her I needed some space and she might've backed off for awhile so I could figure it out. But subway stressed me tf out. And i have no idea how you're supposed to end a relationship with your best friend of over 10 years.

(Also some of my other reasons for not wanting to be friends with her were specifically because of althea and I didnt want althea to get dragged into it. Unfortunately it ended up happening anyways. But basically back in highschool, if we were planning for all four of us (me, e, althea, and nikki) to get together, and nikki would have something come up, E would tell althea our get together was cancelled but would still have me come over and then made me promise not to say anything to althea about it.)

Around march or april of last year I blocked her family's numbers. This is when they started showing up at my work. The first time it happened I had a long ass line and was helping my coworker get through it before I left. Her sister came in by herself and just asked how I was doing but left pretty quick after she got her sandwich since it was busy. A couple more times they came and just parked outside like they were waiting for me to get off my shift but ended up leaving. The last time it happened E came in while I was there alone and I really didnt wanna have THAT conversation while i was at work alone and her crazy overprotective mom was out in the car waiting for her. So i made her sandwich very quickly so i could get her out as fast as I could.

I was planning on finally talking to her around the end of april but was still having trouble figuring out what to say.

Unfortunately any plan I had to let her down easy was sort of thrown out the window on may 13th of last year.

My mom texted me that morning about how she got a weird call from Es aunt. On her work phone. This is basically how that call went:

"IS THIS OLIVIAS MOM?????"

My mom, suddenly worried it's my work and something happened to me, "Yes?"

"Why isnt olivia talking to E anymore?"

"............I dont know."

So that kind of crossed a line for me. It really freaked my mom out.

I'm bad at articulating my thoughts when I'm mad or stressed out tho. So my friend Alice ended up writing out the text for me and I read through it to make sure it was ok.

Basically it said "I'm sorry but I dont think we can be friends anymore. The way you talk about the LGBT+ community makes me extremely uncomfortable, especially seeing as I am bisexual and have several friends in the community. The way you used to exclude althea from hanging out with us because you think shes annoying and then expect me to lie to her about it makes me uncomfortable. It was inappropriate to show up at my work unannounced to corner me into talking to you when I needed space. And it was even more inappropriate for your relatives to call my mom at work. I'm sorry I didnt say something sooner but I'm tired of pretending I'm ok with everything you've said over the years."

Then her mom texts me. I dont remember all of it but the gist was "you're a horrible person. E never judged you or anyone else (sure, miss "gay people are gross. I can see how conversion therapy might work." Totally isnt judging anyone and 100% cares about the lgbt+ community.) The only reason she did those things is because she was worried about you."

Then E left me a voicemail that I couldnt understand at all cuz she was crying and I felt terrible even tho everyone was telling me I shouldn't. Now I probably should've taken out the part about althea because it effectively threw my "not wanting to get althea involved" plan out the window. Honestly what really pissed me off about this next part both made me pissed at E but also at myself. E removed herself from the group chat I had with her, nikki, and althea. Blocked althea on Facebook and blocked her number. Didnt bother to explain why. I still feel terrible about this even tho althea has told me many times that it's fine and if she'd had to pick a side she wouldve picked mine. But I still felt like she at least deserved an explanation.

Alice told me to screenshot the texts. I almost didn't cuz I just wanted to forget about all this. But I did.

Anyways life moved on. Eric got a new phone and gave me his beat up galaxy s7. I stuck my s6 into a drawer and let it die and forgot about it.

Then on new years I got a call from althea. Not weird at all. She calls me every major holiday and birthday. Shes done this every year since junior year of high school.

Normal phone call at first. But then she says that her mom has been talking to E's mom. Apparently E's mom told altheas mom that I told E that althea hates her and thinks shes a terrible person and that's why E hasnt been talking to althea. Althea of course didnt believe that but wanted me know about it. This prompted me to try and charge up my old phone and get the screenshots off of it. I had it plugged in for a couple of days and it never turned back on. So that's out apparently.

That's also why I felt the need to get all of this written down. It may not be as great as having the actual screenshots but I'm bad at articulating my thoughts when confronted so I want to have something written down in case any of this comes up again.

#cw: transphobia #cw: homophobia #i needed to get this out while i could actually put it into words #this is the first time in a while that i actually can #personal #homophobia #transphobia #i never post stuff like this so hopefully im tagging it right

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toshikosatos · 4 years

Text

where I’ve been

trigger warnings for mention of suicidal ideation, and very nonspecific mention of sexual intrusive thoughts. brief mention of fear of starting a fire and contamination fears. (there is also a link to an article which I provide warnings for later, but here’s an advance warning that the article at that link mentions pedophilia.)

alternative title: “OCD: It’s More Than Just Hand Washing! (And Yet I Am Also Singlehandedly Keeping the Body Shop in Business with My Frequent Purchases of Hand Cream in a Desperate Attempt to Undo that Self-Inflicted Damage, As Well.)”

2016 was when it really started to get bad.

there was no real, or at least good, reason for this. my friend had just flown across the Atlantic and moved in with me and my parents, and it was so nice living with a friend and having that constant companionship. I had just finished my first year back in school after deciding to go back and finish my degree following a four year gap, in which I’d bounced between part-time service industry jobs, unemployment, and periods of severe mental illness. it was hard, but I got through that first year. I was 25.

things that sucked, though: season 5 of Person of Interest was happening, and after a year of anticipation, I wound up really disappointed by it. I have a tendency to fixate really unhealthily on my current favourite media, pretty much invest my entire emotional wellbeing in it, and then get totally crushed when it winds up disappointing me in some way. I still feel this cycle happening and don’t quite know how to break out of it, but it was worse back then. and the fandom was also full of REALLY toxic drama at the time that I couldn’t see clearly enough to disengage myself from (although it did ultimately lead to me quitting Tumblr). it wound up really triggering what I now understand to be my OCD, but I didn’t get that back then.

but maybe I should have seen it. I remember weird little things that popped up when I was younger. I went through a time for a few days as a tween when I couldn’t stop flaring my nostrils, or focusing on my blinking, and getting increasingly stressed out by it. later in my teens, I got more anxious about checking all the lights in my house to make sure none of them were about to burst into flames before I went to bed. I also had a bedtime ritual where I’d look at the moon and wish for my loved ones’ wellbeing, and it got more and more ritualized, in this way where I couldn’t step away and go to bed until I felt I’d looked at the moon just Enough, or done certain physical gestures by the window enough times. then I did a school project on OCD at 17 and thought, oh, hey, a lot of this sounds familiar! it made me so aware of my compulsions, but I also started doing them more and getting more stressed out by them as a result, somehow. but a little while after finishing the project, things calmed down again.

these were the things I understood to be related to OCD. I didn’t know WHAT was happening to me when I couldn’t pull myself away from Twitter arguments at 25, couldn’t stop going over the same topics with friends and explaining how I felt and getting reassurance that my friends didn’t judge my opinions, or didn’t judge me for having had a different opinion in the past. I didn’t know why I was losing hours of my life to stress over The Discourse going on on my Twitter feed. I just thought, geez, my anxiety is a mess.

then I went back to school in the fall, and it got worse. one day I remembered something offensive I’d said to be ~edgy when I was 14. read: 11 years prior. I became overcome with anxiety for the next few days, convinced that if I ever told a friend about this, they’d disown me for being an awful person. finally, I told them, and they did not care one bit. they just started listing other 14 year olds they’d known who’d done the same kind of shit. I breathed a sigh of relief. for the time being.

then I wrote an essay that led me down a questionable Youtube rabbit hole. I wound up getting very triggered by a video I saw of something that probably should have been removed from Youtube, but I also convinced myself that I was a horrible person for having looked at it and not immediately looked away. I worried about this for about a month.

then in December 2016, it got much worse. I remembered something similarly inappropriate that I’d seen online when I was 15. again: 10 years earlier. I had looked the thing up out of morbid curiosity, thought it was inappropriate, and never looked at it again. now, 10 years later, I was suddenly overwhelmingly convinced that I was a HORRIBLE person for having looked at this, and that any of my friends would agree and would leave me forever if they knew. within a few days, it became so overwhelming I told a friend, and she did not care. I felt better, for a moment. but it came back. the fear always came back. reassurance from any one person was never enough. I always knew that some remaining friend WOULD hate me for one thing or another I’d done, and it WOULD be proof that I was a terrible person.

I didn’t see how it could get any worse until January 2017. somehow, it did. my thoughts were out of control. I triggered myself eight ways till Sunday, and that January and February was one of the hardest times of my entire life. I was never suicidal - I always knew I would never actually kill myself - but I imagined myself dead every single day, and thought about how much better off we’d all be if I’d never been born. (I remember feeling this way when I took the picture I included at the top of this post.) I felt like there was no point in me living anymore because I was such a horrible person, but that I HAD to keep living, so I was just stuck in a pointless existence, not allowed to feel fulfilled anymore. it was probably the lowest I’ve ever felt. it was the worst feeling. I was anxious and afraid, but that isolating fear made me deeply depressed, too.

but it was pretty early on in all this that I tried to google what I was feeling, and was led to this famous article by Rose Cartwright about pure O OCD. (MAJOR trigger warnings on that article: she talks in detail about sexual intrusive thoughts about pedophilia as well as sexual orientation). honestly, having a name for what I was going through didn’t make me feel much better, but at least I had some idea what was happening to me, now. and it was that knowledge that EVENTUALLY helped me to help myself. it gave me the language to use with the doctors I met, an understanding of how to explain what I was going through, which eventually helped me through evaluations and got me into an OCD treatment program in the fall of 2018. and it did show me that I wasn’t alone.

but there was a sense of, “how did I never realize what this was until now?” I’d referred to myself as having OCD tendencies for a long time. “OCD habits.” I didn’t think any of it was severe enough to actually call OCD. then I found out all the different ways OCD can manifest: intrusive thoughts about sexual topics, violence, morality. I’d had them all. even back in 2013, when I first started seeing a psychotherapist, I went through a phase where I couldn’t stop having a particular intrusive sexual thought that made me feel like a monster. I told my therapist about it, desperate. she reassured me that I wasn’t a freak, and I felt a whole lot better. but she never even used the term OCD. she just said it was strange that I was having these thoughts when I didn’t have a history of abuse. but that’s not strange: it’s just how OCD works sometimes. she didn’t Get It. (I have read that psychotherapists often don’t get it, because they’re quite focused on analyzing the reasons why you feel a certain way, and OCD sufferers already do that too much. we don’t need to analyze: we need to learn to live with our bad thoughts, and not act out compulsions in response to them.) so I went on not knowing until it got much, much worse. and that is why people really need to start building a better understanding of all the different things that OCD entails.

I have intrusive sexual thoughts. I worry CONSTANTLY about everything I’ve ever done wrong and that I’m a bad person, and every single day I fight the urge to seek reassurance from my friends that every single one of those things isn’t It, the thing that will finally make them realize that I’m a horrible person and leave me forever. I second guess every decision I make to the point that I wind up frozen by my own anxiety. I obsess over contamination and harm, too. I wash my hands too much because I’m afraid if I don’t, and then I touch something someone else will touch, I might contaminate them in some way, and that would make me a horrible person. it all comes down to “this will make me a horrible person.” all my other obsessions come back to morality, in the end. I had one doctor who evaluated me tell me I was wrong to connect my sexuality obsessions to my morality obsessions, but I think she was wrong. they are absolutely connected. it is ALL about this for me, in the end.

when I was cleaning my room last year, during my treatment, I got distracted by a notebook I wrote in when I was 12, and I found a page where I wrote, in 2003, “My obsessive compulsive habits are getting out of hand.” I didn’t even remember knowing the term when I was 12. I saw it that long ago, but it took me until I was 27 to get treated for it. there’s no such thing as too late, but when I read that, I wished I could have told my younger self to get help and why. I wished I could show my 17 year old self, or my 21 year old self, or my 25 year old self that page, and let her know, “this is what’s going on. this is what you need to tell a doctor you’re dealing with.” but maybe now I can help someone else figure that out, like Rose Cartwright has helped me with her OCD activism and writing.

my treatment ended a year ago, and I haven’t been using the tools they gave me very diligently since. I’ve been really struggling as a result, but executive dysfunction is a bitch. I hope I can start working on it again soon, because I already know what I need to do to feel better.

a book we used in therapy that I found incredibly helpful: https://www.amazon.com/Getting-Over-OCD-Second-Self-Help/dp/1462529704

Rose’s book: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0118ITJUY/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1

#comes back to tumblr to reblog gay terminator content and writes a personal essay about my mental illness instead #sure!#I don't know why I'm doing this exactly but here I am #if you don't want to click but are interested in resources that have helped me with my OCD feel free to message me #the workbook we used in therapy that helped me is called getting over ocd by jonathan s. abramowitz #gotta say it feels good that I've come so far that I can talk about it this openly now though #personal

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starbuck09256 · 6 years

Text

Turtles and crosswords

Season 2 after firewalker

Day 3 of Quarantine

She has nightmares, she doesn’t talk about it but she whimpers in her sleep and squeezes the life out of her pillow. Mulder the perpetual non sleeper especially when she was gone he slept for maybe an hour each night waking in a cold sweat with her screams ringing in agony in his head. Today we argued about the validity of mutant animals specifically turtles. Apparently the small tv in our quarantine room only has 5 channels and at 3pm if you can’t take any more Jerry Springer you can watch 4 suped up turtles train to be ninjas to save the world. It’s awful but they both secretly love it. It’s now a set date for both of them where they stop whatever they are reading or working on to come and sit right next to each other and watch for 30 minutes.

“I’m just saying it’s probable Scully, that you could create something similar to super turtles, remember the flukeman?”

“God, how could I forget? Mulder you think that 4 turtles would honestly listen to an oversized old rat for directions?”

“If he could teach you how to fight like Bruce Lee wouldn’t you take instructions from a giant rat?” she chuckles and nudges his shoulder, her smile lingering on her lips.

He now realized just how much he has missed her. He isn’t even slightly mad to be stuck with her for a whole month. It’s like the universe wanted to make up for the months she was gone to him. Giving her a whole month without a way to escape from him. He is cherishing it, like he should have cherished her more. The rest of their day is uneventful they have realized fast that all their chess games end in a stalemate. Always equally matched intelligentically. Scully is not great at checkers but wipes the floor with him at poker. As they get ready for another night in the steril beds he watches her get ready. He never thought she was someone who took long to get ready and in general she isn’t. He has called her up in the barely dawn to be at her door to pick her up in 15 minutes and she always looks like she wakes up with an unwrinkled suit with makeup perfect ready to take on the government conspiracies and flukemen of the world. He now realizes she pampers in the evening. She takes long baths and puts on several different creams. Did you know there is a specific cream for your left elbow? He’s not sure there is but there seems to be that there might be. Tonight he hears her tossing and turning her voice a hurried terrified whisper “no, let me go.” he bites his lip hard. He wants to pull her into his arms tell her she is safe with him, even though he is the only reason she has ever been endangered in the first place. He hears a muffled scream and can’t take any more of it. He’s at her bedside crawling into the bed pulling her into his arms.

“Scully it’s ok, it’s Mulder you’re safe I promise.” she is so far in her dream she doesn’t wake to being shift awkwardly into him.

He brushes his lips across her forehead letting his hand touch her back underneath her shirt. She stills and molds herself into him with a heavy sigh.

“Mulder,” another deep breath.

”Yea it’s me Scully I got you,” her head gets tucked under his chin. Her leg moves in between his and his hand snakes around touching her side. His other hand around stroking her back lovingly. Her sighs deep and even as she falls back into a deep sleep against him. He kisses her hair ready to move untangle himself from her. Her weight on him is so calming. She fits perfect across his chest. Of course she would he sighs so contented to have her here. He chuckles when he thinks of her as a spy, she is beyond loyal so full of integrity its sometimes sickening. He means to move, he had the best intentions crawling into her bed with her. Not to be a creep or make her uncomfortable in any way but to help her sleep. Her soft snores are like the best white noise machine and suddenly it’s late morning 10am even. He slept for a full 9 hours and she is looking at him with a soft questioning gaze and a deep red blush.

“Hi” he says shifting his muscles aching from the full rest he’s received. “You umm were having a bad dream and I” he stammers as she shakes her head.

“It’s ok Mulder,” she detangles from him. “god I haven’t slept that good in ages” she whispers sitting up and stretching.

He blushes a deep red he hasn’t either. He feels incredible like he can take on the world and not need the black sludge to ever grace his lips again.

“Mulder it’s 10!” she looks shocked and he can’t help but laugh.

”I guess we really needed some rest after the last..” "Year?” she supplies laughing.

“You can sleep anywhere Scully, I’ve seen it.” she laughs shaking her head. The day goes on like any other and at 3pm she sits a little closer to him.

Day 7

They’ve been arguing over the validity of changelings. Scully has been shaking her head a lot but laughing too. Her nightmares haven’t been nearly as bad and part of him is sad that he hasn’t had another excuse to hold her in the dark night. But tonight she falls asleep against his shoulder while watching Star Trek and he’s a terrible person but he shifts to have them both sleep on the small uncomfortable couch. She wakes in the middle of the night Mulder curled behind her snoring softly into her shoulder the tv buzzing with the latest hair plugs for 69.95 plus shipping.

“Mulder,” she whispers his arm tightens around her and he nuzzles her neck.

“Mulder, we can’t sleep here.” she shifts slightly.

“Humm I like sleeping with you.” he mutters he is still asleep.

God she should rethink this, they work together they just got the x-files back. But his breath is warm and soothing against her neck his arms adding just the right amount of weight to help her fall asleep fast. They need to find out what they did to her. She can’t remember anything past Duane Berry dragging her up that hill. Mulder screaming her name. She has made a full recovery the only thing that even feels different is the months she missed the length of her hair and Mulder. He is different, when she came back he looked so rugged and tired. Her mother had told her how little she thought he slept, how he became physically ill when he saw her tombstone. This couch will hurt them both more if they stay on it. It’s not comfortable like his nice black leather one. She untangles herself from him. Pulling him up and dragging him to his own bed.

“That couch is too small for you, come on back to bed.”

He wakes his eyes groggy. “Scully?”

“Hi” she reaches out touching his face. “We fell asleep on the couch,” she says touching his cheek.

He is still groggy. “Sorry,” but his eyes sparkle a little more than normal and he has a smirk that kind of says he’s not sorry at all but he’s trying to keep it professional.

She huffs nothing about this has been professional. They’ve been left completely up to their own devices getting shipments of food every week and doing weekly blood tests. Nothing out of the ordinary. All traces of her supposed branch dna gone, both of them healthy-ish. She moves as he settles into the bed “Stay” he mumbles.

Shifting slightly so she has room to lay down next to him. This is a bad idea Dana she tells herself. Jack and Daniel, her always trying to prove something to the older men in her life that she is strong capable and everything they ever dreamed they could want. It’s not like that with Mulder, she might need to prove the science but not herself. For thinking she was a spy he certainly didn’t seem to believe it for very long.

He might challenge her and question her beliefs but his respect for her opinion and thoughts are uncomparable to everyone she has ever had to work with he’s engaging curious as to her viewpoint and while he doesn’t agree he certainly listens just like she does. Is this worth sacrificing all of that? She bites her lip turning to leave. She has grown to not just admire him but love him as well, he grab her hand softly. “Please stay Scully,” his eyes shine to her with comfort and nothing more.

He has no expectations of them shedding clothes throughout the night, no malice in his eyes of what happens tomorrow or the next day. He isn’t one to judge her for her choices, for he was one of them. She pulls the covers back and lies down. His sighs full of content as he pulls her close to him. She wonders what happens tomorrow when she wakes up.

Day 13

Did you know you could sleep next to someone and not have sex with them? It might be a novel concept but that is what has happened much to her dismay. She thought she was making the choice clear to him that she would be ok with it all. But as they lay again together on her bed this time snuggled up close all clothes intact it’s stifling. She worried so much about a morning of regret from him about how they shouldn’t and it wouldn’t happen again to discover that it didn’t even happen in the first place. That they have honestly just found comfort in being next to each other holding and touching but never kissing or more. She wants to kiss him, to show the level of appreciation she has for them coming to this god forsaken mountain in the first place.

Day 18

She’s going to kiss him, she has come to realize that he won’t make this jump despite the fact that 2 days ago he accidentally brushed her lips instead of her cheek. Muttering apologies for overstepping and a nervous chuckle to try and end the awkwardness. They had gone back to normal and as she made him a sandwich and he proclaimed she would be the best wife ever her mustard skills in creating the perfect ratio apparently being the top thing a man looks for in a wife. Her chuckling nervously because now she realizes she would want to be his wife which is a far jump for someone who hasn’t even bother to kiss that person. Maybe that had been her problem before showing the physical side first to lure men into her web to prove her intellegicenal prolace after the fact. Not realizing they never cared about it in the first place. Not like him, Mulder cared, Mulder wanted someone to challenge him, he craved it, demanded it and when you couldn’t stand up to those high expectations he could and would utilize it to prove a point. They both fell in love with each others minds first which in itself makes the love story all the more fantastic.

Day 19

He’s been holding out as much as he can, but she is letting him experience a life so calm and full of love that he isn’t sure he wants to go back to monsters and ghosts. He wants to live in the bubble they’ve created of perfect afternoons of cartoons and cards. Of mornings with coffee in bed and crossword puzzles. He knew she was brilliant and kind. But now he is seeing her for the amazing women she is outside of an office. Outside of the web of FBI, he’s seeing Dana and he is enthralled.

Day 20

She feels so brave knowing what today is for them. She wants to shift everything wants to have his hands on her tonight not as a companion to fight off demons but a lover to fight off sleep. She’s readying herself for battle taking extra care, it’s hard with the limited supplies she has available to her here in quarantine. But she has been making little strides to test the waters, small experiments to see if her hypothesis is correct. That he is enamoured with her like she is with him. She’s touched him carelessly, her gaze lingering on purpose to see what he would do. He laughs and lets his fingers linger on her too. Their eyes meeting in agreement, like when they have the takeout menus spread across the desk after late nights of paperwork. She is ready but she is still afraid, he is passionate beyond reason and most likely this will consume both of them, but the fear and the risk thrill her.

Day 30

His breathe and voice are warm against her bare back. Like his kisses were the night before and again this morning. “Our little bubble world is coming to an end tomorrow.” He kisses up her back finding her shoulder blade and lingering. “What happens then?” his voice dropping to a whisper as he kisses up her neck finding her pulse points as his hand wanders across her stomach pulling her roughly against him. She’s not sure, not sure what happens to the peaceful world full crosswords, ninja turtles, lovemaking and bickering. She doesn’t know how they go back to sleeping alone without the other one to help them fight each other's demons. How is she suppose to feel at 3pm when she is in another autopsy wondering about mutants and pizza, or late at night about Mulder's body pressing her into a sad tiny couch. How will she focus and how will they go back to being an arms length apart which might as well feel like another planet. She likes this planet they’ve created with it’s silicon life form and them uninhibited in everyway with one another. "What do you want to happen?” she asks turning in his arms to face him.

“Part of me is excited for the change, to be back fighting the darkness with you, to have some decent fucking coffee again. But the other part the bigger part is afraid, afraid that you will withdraw back into yourself like you do sometimes, that these moments will not be repeated in my apartment or in a motel in the middle of nowhere. I would like to be wrong I would like to think that this beautiful place we’ve created is packed to travel with us under all your soaps and creams next to those sexy panties I now can’t stop thinking about.” he chuckles. “Is it coming with us? Or are we abandoning it?” his voice filled with hesitation she looks at him. He kind eyes that sparkle a little in the moonlight, the crease in his brow which fades flat when he comes inside of her. His voice filled with hesitation she looks at him.

He kind eyes that sparkle a little in the moonlight, the crease in his brow which fades flat when he comes inside of her.

“Do you think if they knew they would use it against us?” she whispers.

“Don’t you think they have been?” she bites her lip.

To bring this home would change so much. She loves a challenge but herself identity has always been consumed by others when she is in a relationship. She likes who she is, finally, she feels defined powerful in her perceived small frame. He gives her that, gives it to her in spades, he values her as an equal not a prize, a companion not a trinket. “I think you’re right,” he looks a little shocked and to be fair she almost never utters those words.

“I am?”

“I think they have been using us against one another for so long we didn’t even know it.”

“They’ve underestimated you most certainly” he grins at her kissing her nose lightly.

“You’re right about one more thing though.” she lifts up kissing him softly.

“Just one?” His voice leering into her, she smiles looking into his soft hazel depths. “I do have room for this in between the soaps and creams, but I have some far sexier panties you might also enjoy thinking about.”

He grins the whole flight home, holding her hand and whispering into her ear as the flight cabin lights dim.

Tagging some awesome peeps @today-in-fic @improlificinsarcasm @marinafrenzy @peacenik0 @scully-eats-sushi @viceversawrites

#mulder and scully #msr fanfic #msr #the x files #xf fanfic #fluff time #one month of only mulder and scully #yes please #the sex files are right up my alley #my fics #my fic

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neighbours-kid · 5 years

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Oh Doctor, My Doctor

Disclaimer: This is basically me letting out all the passionate yelling about Doctor Who that I don’t want to torture my friends with like I did when I watched the show the first time round, more or less seven years ago. But I gotta let this out somewhere, I’ve been binging 10 seasons in a few weeks and my brain is full of thoughts. So, uh, sorry, I guess. I really just need to get this out of my system and get my thoughts in order. This is gonna be a long one, though, so I hope y’all are patient with me.

You know, seven years ago, when I watched Doctor Who for the first time, I was very….particular about it, I guess you could call it. With all TV shows, really. I had my favourite character, my favourite side-character, and I really didn’t love many of the other characters. I was very one-sided about it all.

With Doctor Who, that meant, that I really, really loved the Tenth Doctor, I adored David’s Doctor. I loved Rose. When Martha came along, I didn’t really like her, because Rose had only just been there. Donna, on the other hand, was already farther removed, so I really did like her. Same thing happened with the Doctor. I liked David’s Doctor so much, that when Matt came along, I couldn’t really allow myself to like him. He replaced David, so I was already prejudiced against him. I also didn’t particularly like Amy and Rory, and definitely not River. Peter on the other hand, I could like more again, because he was farther removed from David. Same with Clara. I was so *stuck* in my adoration for certain characters, that I could not see the values and great sides of others. I loved certain storylines so much, I couldn’t appreciate others. Which, to be honest, is so very crappy.

I am so very glad that I allowed myself to get into Doctor Who again, that I allowed myself to love this show again. Because I knew I would, but I was afraid I would turn out exactly like last time, that I would be awful about it. But I think I’m better about it now.

Like I have already mentioned in my blog post about February, watching that very first episode again really did feel like coming home. It felt like stepping into a room full of toys that you have loved as a child and forgot about over the years. It felt like when you re-arrange your room and you find those little things and look at them and suddenly it’s five hours later and your room is an absolute chaos because you got so distracted with all the things you forgot you owned. It felt like meeting a very old friend again. And I have enjoyed this ride tremendously.

I liked Nine even the first time round. He introduced me to this whole thing. Chris was my first Doctor, even if he is not my favourite. But he was my first. I loved his sort of dry humour, his matter-of-fact-ness, his way of just going, “yup, I’m an alien, got a problem with that?” He was smart, he was funny, and even if it maybe didn’t come out as strongly as in other Doctors, he had passion and he had heart. Think The Empty Child and The Doctor Dances. The joy, the gratefulness, the absolute overwhelming happy surprise that this once, just this once, everybody lives. He was so shocked, in a way, that this was still a possibility, that he could be somewhere, and when usually even with his best intentions he creates destruction, it didn’t happen this time. He came across something, tried his damnedest to help, and absolutely everybody lived. And it was wonderful. But not only was Chris the Doctor that introduced me to this show, he was also the one that gave me Rose. Without Chris, without Nine, there would be no Rose and Ten, there would be no “The Doctor and Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS, where they belong”. Chris walked so David could run. It was Chris who first came and grabbed Rose’s hand and said RUN! I wouldn’t have one of my favourite ships of all time, if it weren’t for Chris and what he brought to this role.

Nine, though he may not have been the War Doctor, he was the one born out of war. The survivor. Or, how he might have called himself, the coward who ran away. He was born out of a terrible decision he had to make (and yes, the Nine we meet in Season One still was born out of a Doctor who had to make that decision all by himself, not together with his future selves….), he was born thinking he had just made himself the single survivor of a massive double-genocide. He was born out of shame and regret and uncertainty, and you can tell. And then he found Rose and with her, light comes back into his life. He may have still been a helper, may have still tried to prevent Earth from being invaded by hostile alien lifeforms — it is his second home after all —, but I feel he did it from a sense of duty, not because he liked doing it. But in all that he finds Rose, and things change. And just two episodes later he’s already so far gone for that woman, if he had to die in a cellar surrounded by alien ghosts, he wouldn’t wanna have anyone else beside him than her.

Without Chris and his Ninth Doctor, there would be no Doctor Who. It was his first season that brought this show back from its hiatus, it was him who introduced this show to a whole new generation. And I am so grateful for that. Many of my favourite moments came out of his arc. The whole introduction of Captain Jack Harkness, that little family moment in Boom Town where they all sit together in that restaurant and have a good time before they have to save the world again. Chris’ absolute joy when Rose gets names of other planets right. Rose reminding him that if he kills a vulnerable changed Dalek, he is not better than any of them. Again, as I already mentioned, his utter disbelief, wonder, and happiness at everyone living at the end of The Doctor Dances. Jack kissing both Rose and the Doctor in the season finale. Chris brought so much to this show. His Doctor, born from war, from uncertainty and shame, dies in an act of love, of his love for Rose. And from that love he is re-born, Ten is born from that one act of true love that Chris had in his arc, and it’s something that will define David’s entire four seasons.

David, even now, is my absolute favourite Doctor. He didn’t just have heart and passion, he wasn’t just smart and funny and a bit snarky, he wasn’t just dashing and handsome and a bit of a flirt— he was filled, to the brim, with unsolicited, unchallenged, absolute boundless and unconditional love. And not just for Rose, but for everyone he came across. He was compassionate without measure. It was this intense love that made him so wonderful and it would also be the one thing that would completely, utterly destroy him in the end.

To watch David again in this role, to come back to a version of this character that I have loved so much, was….oh, it was healing, it was so incredibly soothing to just be able to let myself fall in love with this character all over again. Because I knew what was gonna happen, I knew these stories already, these characters, and even if it was heartbreaking, it was so relaxing to let myself go and enjoy this without fearing to be disappointed by something. Oh, it was a joy. To just see that great love between David and Rose play out again before my eyes, to watch all these little stories of them being so smitten with each other while making each other better people and saving the various civilisations over and over again. I want to say I’m speechless, but I could honestly wax on poetically about these two forever. Absolute OTP, nearly unchallenged.

But even after Rose was gone, David kept being a version of the Doctor that was basically the incarnation of love. He may not have loved Martha the way she would have liked, but he did love her tremendously. I didn’t like Martha, not in my first run, because she just came and tried to filled this empty space that Rose left behind in a way that neither the Doctor nor I were having it. She bothered me so much, because she was so desperate to be loved by him the same way he loved Rose, that she didn’t see that he cared for her so much already. But now, I was able to appreciate Martha for who she was and what she did. I think, in a way, she saved the Doctor. He became a lot more reckless after he lost Rose. He would get even worse later on, but at that moment, Martha saved him. Sure, the immediate distraction from having just lost Rose was Donna and her little wedding (mis-)adventure, but that was only a short moment. Martha was the one to drag David out of the mud and into the light, was the one to make sure he would not get himself killed somewhere.

There’s a moment in Matt’s arc as the Doctor, where he’s interacting with the TARDIS interface that looks like him at first, and then, once he says “give me someone I like” turns into Rose. He says “guilt” and it changes to Martha and he says “also guilt”, and it then moves on through his companions, but I want to focus on Martha here. Guilt. The Doctor knew, or at least felt like he did not do right by her. I feel like, he would have loved to be able to give her what she wanted, but he just couldn’t. He tried his best to be a good man, a good friend, but he was so oblivious to her needs or wants, outside of the fact that she would’ve liked him to love her, because he was still basically digging his own grave after the loss of Rose. David, for a moment there, he lost all direction, he didn’t know what to do. He had wished, hoped, thought he would spend so many more years travelling with his love, and now she was gone and he had no idea what to do, and along comes this brilliant woman, this incredibly smart and perceptive person who was able to stand her ground and keep up with him and his wits most of the time, and he just can’t appreciate her for who she is. I mean, he tries, don’t get me wrong, and he does, but he is not able to show that to her. So guilt it is.

Martha, who drags his reckless ass out of many a dangerous situation. Martha, who watches over him while he doesn’t even remember who he is, trusting him to remember once he needs to. Martha, who travels across the entire planet, endangering herself, to spread the word, to make sure that the Doctor, once more, can return to his full power and overcome the Master and his evil plans. Martha, who has done so much for him, and he just can’t really appreciate her. And I get it now, I really do. Seven years ago, I disliked her for it, for wanting that attention, for looking for that validation. But now, now I see it. She was a good companion and she deserves to be recognised as such. I liked that she was able to clap back at Ten’s sass, that she was able to keep up with him, that she was strong, and vulnerable, and smart, and compassionate.

But even this time, even though I learned to like Martha Jones, I was really looking forward to seeing David together with Donna, because Donna is hilarious and wonderful. Donna was normal. She was not extraordinary and talented and incredibly beautiful. Not to the uninitiated or general observer. And I think that’s exactly what I, as a viewer, needed at that point. Someone, who doesn’t strive for greatness, but is still capable of it. Donna had sass, she had snark, she was loud and showy and a bomb. But also, I feel, incredibly self-conscious. And the thing about Donna is, that was what made her so great. She wasn’t “The Girl Who Waited” or “Born to Save the Doctor”, she was just Donna. Donna Noble. From Chiswick. A temp. Who thought she was nothing extraordinary, who thought that the even if she wasn’t there, the world would keep turning. But in all that, she had this one adventure with this madman, and months later she purposely sought out weird occurrences and dangerous situation, because she knew that everything she thought she was not, that madman was and she needed to feel like that again.

The thing is, though. Donna was none of these things. She was extraordinary. She was talented and beautiful, and so, so important. And she would have been, even if she did not end up being the key in bringing Rose back into this universe and creating TenToo. She would have been all these things anyway. I adore Donna. And so did Ten. He saw the mistakes he made with Martha and he tried to do better by Donna, and I think he did. He really did.

One of my favourite moments from the Doctor-Donna arc, is in The Fires of Pompeii, when Donna convinces David to save just one person. Just the one. Because that moment will define a big part of why I have come to adore the Twelfth Doctor. Because Ten and Donna save Caesilius and his family in Pompeii, the Twelfth Doctor becomes just a little bit more interesting than he already is, but more about that later.

I know I said Martha drags the Doctor out of the mud and sees to it that he doesn’t recklessly kill himself, but so does Donna. Donna keeps him in check, and he needs it desperately. Because the love that he was born out of, is burning him up from inside, and it is going to destroy him soon. Because even though he lost Rose, he continued to love so much, to care so much, to have this massively strong compassion for all beings. That’s why he still runs, that’s why he still travels and saves people, creatures, everyone. Donna helps him to care just the right amount, to care when he doesn’t want to (Fire of Pompeii, The Doctor’s Daughter) and to slow down when he is overwhelmed because he can’t stop caring (Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead).

Ten is….a volcano, if you wanna think about it that way. David was born from love, cared deeply and passionately and strongly for four season, and kept loving and loving, and it ends in him, finally, getting back what he lost: Rose. Or, at least, in a way. He doesn’t get to be the one to settle down and live his life with her, but she does. She gets to live a life with him, even if he doesn’t. And i think that gives him a certain ease. He can let go now, in a way. Not that he ever does, not completely, but he can be sure that she will have him, and that part of him also has her. It allows him to move on, which explains everything about Matt’s Doctor to me. It’s something that needed to happen before Ten regenerates, because otherwise they would’ve never been able to move onto new stories, new adventures completely. He needed to be able to let Rose go, and I think he was. He was able to let her go, but not himself, not yet. And it is still love that keeps him going. He travels alone, this time. Doesn’t want to get attached anymore. And it is that which ultimately destroys him here. The need to love, this strong emotion still dominating him entirely, but his unwillingness, and his inability to let it happen. Which is why he begins to fall apart completely, which is why The Waters of Mars happen the way it does. He keeps saying that he should go, that he should leave, because this is a fixed part of history that he is not allowed to change, and yet, he sticks around, and sees himself becoming the worst version of himself: the one who wants to win, the one who thinks he can outsmart anything and anyone, the one who thinks the universe owes him something, the one who, slowly but surely, thinks he can become a God. His love is his downfall.

The point is for me here, that he realises that he has gone too far. He knows and it is that knowledge that allows him to ultimately make that sacrifice for Wilfred which will cost him his life. It is one last act of love. Well, not quite last. What I am eternally grateful for, is that they let Ten go on a sort of victory lap, in a way. It’s not a victory lap, but more of a, last goodbye. He gets to see all the lives he tremendously touched again. He gets to see Donna and her family, gets to see her happy and married, make her and her family one last gift. He gets to see Martha with Mickey, happy at last, the two of them together, who both had lost love at the hands of the Doctor, even if he didn’t intend for it. He gets to see Jack. And Sarah Jane. And, lastly and most importantly, of course, he gets to see Rose, right before her adventure with him begins. And it is with that last moment with the woman he loved, that he finally lets go, even if he doesn’t want to. Last moments are so incredibly defining in this show, I feel. Nine’s death for love, Ten’s birth out of that love, Ten’s death a final moment of letting it all go, moving on. He knows Rose will get her happy ending, he knows that all the lives he touched are not worse for it, he can let it go, let it be, and let himself move on, which, I think, is the defining trait of Matt’s Doctor.

Matt, oh Matt. I have to be truly honest, I really couldn’t let myself like him the first time round. He was too silly, too quirky, too happy. It didn’t know what to do with that. I really didn’t. But now, oh how I’ve changed. I really, really like Matt. He was fun, he was different, he was new. The Doctor had suffered so much loss, but he was able to, not ignore, but put that behind him, in a way, and really move on. He wouldn’t forget, he never would, but he could reinvent himself. David didn’t want to go, didn’t want to regenerate, didn’t want to leave that face, that person behind and become someone new, but I think it was exactly what he needed. A clean slate. Tabula rasa. He could be someone he’s never been before, and make the best out of it. There was still love in Matt, and so much of it.

I know we always talk about Matt as a silly Doctor, a bit childish and not really serious. But he could be, if need be. He could be just as ruthless as David towards the end, he could be just as, well, not cold-hearted, but detached, as those who came before him. We don’t talk about it much, because he was fun and he was silly, but there was still a darkness brooding inside him, that I think we should not forget about. The trait of “nothing can stop me now because you hurt someone I liked” may have really started with David, but it was Matt that carried it on. To protect Amy and Rory, this man would do anything. I may have not initially liked Amy and Rory much, but damn, those two are a powerhouse. And it really was, Amy and Her Boys. Which I now learned to appreciate.

The thing about Matt’s arc is, we get two and a half seasons with the same companions. We have Amy and Rory all of seasons five and six, and half through seven until The Angels Take Manhattan. That is long. Chris only had the one season and one companion (well, there were obviously Jackie, Mickey, and Jack, but you know, they didn’t really travel with him). David had Rose, Mickey, Jack, Martha, Donna, Sarah Jane, and so many different companions in the specials, too. David had them for a season, some even only for a few episodes. But Matt had his main two companions for over two seasons, interspersed of course with River Song, Craig the two times, and some occasional Christmas specials where he was without the couple. (And then he also has another half season with Clara, but I think of her more as Twelve’s companion, to be honest.)

I don’t wanna say, David didn’t fight strong enough for his companions. But Matt fought in a way for them, that made them stick around longer, and I think that’s ultimately, because it would have otherwise completely destroyed him. He just let himself move on from all the loss he had experienced. David just gave himself up, finally, to let Matt write new stories, experience new things, not be guided by the loss he had experienced. So Matt does his damnedest to keep Amy and Rory (and River) save and whole. Which, I think, is interesting in the way it works out, because instead of the travelling with the Doctor becoming a lifestyle, they settle down, and he becomes a hobby, which is something that will continue in Clara’s arc with both Eleven and Twelve. And while I loved the all-in kind of life the previous companions have, I think that’s good.

Oh, Matt. My dearest Matt. He was so fun and silly, that I feel like, his storyline becomes even more heartbreaking, in a way, than David’s. You don’t want to see pain and suffering and heartbreak in a face that young and open and honest. You don’t wanna see the happy-go-lucky kid go dark and brooding and mysterious, but you also know that that is exactly what’s hiding behind that ever so happy face. Even though he was able to let the past be the past and not let it constantly define his every move—which I truly believe Matt was able to do—there is still so much sadness in those eyes at all times. That is a several thousand years old man with the face of a not-even-thirty years old, and you just know that there is so much loss hidden behind those eyes, behind that smile. And you can see it seep through, even if he tries his best to hide it. And I think that is what drew me in about him. Yes, he was silly. Yes, he was annoyingly optimistic and jumpy, and the physical embodiment of a bouncy castle. But, oh, he had depth. Layers upon layers. Which, yes, David had too, but they became more and more obvious with Matt.

I could go on so much longer about my dear Matt, because there is so much more to unpack here, but I’ve already written more than university essay length in mere hours, and I haven’t even gotten to Peter yet, who has sneaked up on me in a way I could’ve never dreamed, and easily walked up right next to David and sat down on a very (very, very, very, very, very) close second place, only a breath behind my beloved Tenth Doctor.

Last time around, I fell off the waggon, I think, at the beginning of Season Nine (I guess the last episode I watched was The Witches’ Apprentice, but maybe I didn’t even watch that). I had finished watching Matt who I didn’t particularly like back then (but definitely also didn’t want to let go quite yet), to get a Doctor that was completely different from anything I’d seen before, sort of grumpy and weird, and it continued with Clara, who I had back then, also not particularly liked, I think. Probably more than Amy and Rory, but definitely not on a level like Rose and Donna. So, coming up on Season Eight and returning to Peter’s Doctor, was a more unknown territory for me. And I could’ve never imagined how it would turn out.

Peter’s version is….oh, he is loveable. I…when I started this post, I knew exactly what I wanted to write about Peter. Hell, I started this post because I wanted to write about Peter. And now, an entire university essay-length blog post later, and I’m sitting here, no idea what it was that I wanted to say so badly. I’ll try my best to find my way back to it, though, so bear with me.

Peter caught me by surprise. Very much so. Because I remember last time, after grudgingly coming to like Matt after a while and then having to let him go, again grudgingly, I don’t think I really liked Peter that much in this role. I had only seen him, I think, in Forty Something before, which was a comedy and he sort of played the, uh, antagonist, if a) one can call it that, and b) I remember correctly. I can’t quite recall if the first Paddington movie was already out by that point, but if it was, he was again an antagonist. So, to see him in a leading role of a character that, just now, was a bouncy-castle with a dark side, was…..a change, I think I would say. And as I already said, I fell off the waggon after one season of Peter, partly because I felt like I didn’t like where this show was going.

This time I went into re-watching this show with love. I loved them all. I loved characters I hadn’t particularly liked before. And I loved Peter. So much. Which I never thought I would, at least not to this degree.

The thing is, Peter gets so easily stamped as the grumpy one, the rude one, the dark one. And I mean, yeah, sure, he’s grumpy, he’s a bit darker than some of his previous incarnations, and he has a tendency to be rude. And I thought so at the beginning too, especially that very first episode. But now on this rewatch, I realised, he’s no more rude than any of the others were. David’s first episode right after regeneration? Oh he was rude. Matt’s first, with young Amelia? He crashed in her front yard, she made him food and he kept throwing it away, spitting it out, bossing her around. He was really rude. And that’s just it. Wouldn’t you be? Wouldn’t you be a bit rude when you literally just became an entirely new person, haven’t quite figured out yet who you are, have forgotten what exactly is happening, and find yourself in a situation completely going awry, and then there’s also people there expecting you to be someone who you’re not anymore? Hell, I’d be fucking rude, too.

Peter had me by the moment he talks to the homeless guy about his face. Well, no, not entirely, I’m sure I was hooked before that because this time I was ready to appreciate him for who he was. But that moment, when I started slowly understanding what Russell’s idea was with Peter’s Doctor having the face of someone he’s met before. And then of course, at the end of that first episode, his scene with Clara in London, when Matt’s Doctor calls her from Trenzalore, and Peter’s incredible openness and insecurity and just….I think, defining moment of his entire arc, when he asks Clara to just see him. That’s when it was a done deal already for me, that was the moment I couldn’t go back to maybe liking Peter. I was sold.

Because….because it’s like this. Peter is the amalgamation of everything that came before him, everyone that came before him. Sure, Chris wasn’t unlike the Doctors before him, David had traits of Chris, Matt of the both of them, but Peter….is defined, in a way, by Matt’s last words. I feel that before that, there were only hints, but now with Matt’s “I’ll always remember when the Doctor was me”, Peter became that, and not just in relation to Matt, but to all of them. He is two thousand years of love and regret and loss and compassion and people and stories, wrapped into a body that really shows that. And I’m not just talking about the fact that Peter is relatively older than Matt, David or Chris. It’s not about age, it’s about depth. You could see in Matt’s eyes and the sad smile that he had seen things nobody should ever have to see, but he was still the incarnation of a bouncy castle. Peter had gravitas, that gravity, that….. he was bigger on the inside. He was bursting at his seams with so much history and lives lived. The words are escaping me right now, I can feel them at the tip of my fingers, just that much out of reach, but I just…..God, I just love Peter so much.

His arc with Clara was so many things, and I don’t wanna talk about the writing because that’s entirely different topic, but it was just so….incredible, I guess is the word? I’m gonna give up on the word thing now, because I really don’t have them right now. But here’s some specific, less-wordy things I adored about Peter. His “I have a duty of care” bit. It hit me in all the same ways David’s “I promised to keep you safe” used to, and Matt’s everlasting attempts to keep Amy and Rory together and in one piece and whole. Peter’s stint at Clara’s school as The Caretaker makes this even more fitting, because that is exactly what he is.

I loved Peter’s professor bit. That he didn’t just have a library in the TARDIS, but that the console room was full of shelves and blackboards. I adored that he thought in writing so often, that we found him up there at those boards doing equations and just basically thinking out loud. I loved the scenes of him lecturing in the arc with Bill. I loved that he was as much a teacher as he was a student. He says it at the end of season eight: “I… am… an idiot! With a box and a screwdriver. Passing through. Helping out. Learning.” We had that in all his incarnations, too. Sure, he’s a genius, that Doctor. But he travels to learn, to see things, to understand. And I felt the way that was expressed in Peter’s arc was really lovely.

I fucking adored his rockstar bit. The guitar, the songs, I loved it. We had big hats, big scarfs, we had question marks and vegetables, we had big coats and so many colours, and now we have a magician with sunglasses and a Gibson SG. It’s so brilliant. He was so versatile, our Peter.

I’m at a loss of words again, guys. I don’t think I actually got to the bit I really wanted to talk about, because I just can’t remember what was so…..strong and emotional about Peter’s Doctor, something that was so important for me, that I wanted to write this post. I hope I remember it at some point, because it was a strong emotion that I can still feel, I just can’t grasp it anymore.

I’m really sorry this turned out so long with me just fucking rambling all over the place, but hey, welcome to my brain, I guess?

Anyway, I started Jodie’s arc yesterday, and while I’m not quite sold yet on her, I am sure I will enjoy this season nonetheless. I really want to give her a chance, and I also don’t want to abandon this show again, because even if I end up not liking this particular incarnation, I might the next one. Which is what’s great about this show. There’s always stuff you can like, and it won’t be the way it was forever.

Thanks for reading, guys. Always. And now, one last thing:

Never be cruel, never be cowardly. Remember, hate is always foolish, and love is always wise. Always try to be nice, but never fail to be kind. Laugh hard. Run fast. Be kind.

#doctor who #matt smith #peter capaldi #david tennant #christopher ecclestone #jodie whitaker #russel t davis #dw #dr who #long post #textpost #thoughts #rambling #tardis #love

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dungeonsnconcepts · 5 years

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My first DnD character

Was a 4th edition Shardmind Rogue. He was bananas. The campaign was a wild, not from any book, do what you like, mess. I loved it. This was about ten years ago, when I was a Junior in high school. Prior to that I had played two sessions of a giant mech homebrew for 3.5, and I have no recollection of that character (human I think? Possibly a self-insert).

But I digress.

Just last year, I was asked if I wanted to join a friends DnD campaign, as they were about to start "Into the Abyss". I was so excited! They were in a new system, fifth edition(not that I even remember the old system, other than that I had a bonkers amount of choices), and I figured I'd make something cool, but out of the ordinary.

I tried to make a half-orc who wanted to be a monk, but wasn't one. So I went with fighter, but refused to use weapons (dealing 1+3str on the off chance that I connected, as my rolls were terrible). God damned awful. Hilariously bad, to be honest, but I stuck with it. By fourth level I was known as "the one punch orc" because I seemed to have an uncanny ability to only hit after the paladin had already smited, and steal all sorts of kills. Seemed I killed almost anything I ever hit. I punched a ghost to death once. Several drow. A few ooze. Got to my ASI and took tavern brawler to increase my damage.

Then the party got joined by a dwarf fighter/barbarian, who basically filled the same roll as me in the party, but was actually good at it. He came in with a +1 weapon, and +5str, so if I ever hit (about half as often as he did) I dealt D4+3str damage compared to his D8+6, and he was hitting three times a turn (two weapons).

So I started to grumble about my character. He was bad to start off with, but when I can see what it was possible for him to do? It hurt pretty bad. Destroyed my esteem for my character, and thus, destroyed his self esteem. In order to keep up with the party's strength, the DM started throwing some homebrew enemies at us, which was fair for the rest of the party but ABSOLUTELY WRECKED ME. I was all but one-shot KO'd three sessions in a row (by a drow priestess's cloud of death, then by a ghost that possessed me to attack the party, then by a giant homebrew ooze monstrosity that nuked us). During this time, the DM and I had talked, and he allowed me to "rewrite my character". He told me to take some barbarian levels, as that fit how I'd acted, and he was "going to do something to fix me". I'd been asking for brass knuckles that would increase my damage to a D6 or something, so I was stoked. We did a solo session where my character was essentially kidnapped while unconscious. I awoke to an illithid playing with my brain after having cut off my arms (you know, those things that were central to my character?). Turns out that the dragon that rules the one town had sicked his mindflayers on me to "fix my ineptitudes". He also gave the barbarian a magical stat increase so he was +1 more to hit and damage. But it turns out I now have "flencing claws" and "some memory loss of what happened before the start of the campaign" (this I assume was to take away the backstory element that made my character want to be an off-brand monk). I now dealt D10+3 damage, as three foot long claws extended from my finger tips at will. Which was cool, but WILDLY off flavor (weird) for "the punchy orc".

So now I was dealing D10+3 per hit, three hits per turn (off hand attack), averaging about 5 to 8 damage per hit (massively bad rolls), and hitting still about half the time (+6 to hit). The Dwarf was dealing 1D8+7 per hit, three hits per turn, averaging 12 to 14 per hit, and hitting almost always (+10 to hit).

And I am still getting smacked silly by the things the rest of the party are ok at dealing with.

So his "fixing me" didn't really stop my grumbling. Now my character doesn't feel like my character any more (he's a weird, wolverine-ish, barbarian/fighter with memory loss of the backstory that was central to his motivation), AND he is still lagging behind the rest of the party in pretty much every way (note, the Dwarf also has 30 more hit points than me, and took the better barbarian path, so resistance to everything while I was still trying to be in "character" and took battlerager, as I was told to make this choice before my mind was erased or I knew what was being done to me).

And the enemies kept coming. Stronger and stronger. So I kept complaining. "homebrew enemies are kinda wrecking the game for me" I said, repeatedly. Pretty much as soon as we were in combat, I was in danger of falling over (the DM won't let me die for some reason), and outside of combat I'm a low Cha character that no longer really has a backstory.

So we hit a major plot beat, and he (the DM) asked for our input. I sent him a massive message about how I love the game, I love the world he's built for us, I love the party, I like my character, but homebrew is kinda not fun.

So he did ANOTHER solo thing with me, and turned me into Venom, the Spiderman villain. I was infected by an ooze that could give me spiderclimb and a bunch of homebrew abilities (int damage when I perform a bite attack, +temp health when I bite, auto grapple when I bite(which triggers my battlerager feature to deal an additional 3 damage), +1 magical attacks, +1 AC, advantage on wis saves because I have two minds, set to a +9 to hit, D10+8 damage from my claws, D6+3str+1magic from my bites).

Yay... I complained that homebrew was wrecking the game for me, so he turned me into homebrew. Stare into the Abyss, and it stares back apparently. Lol. The concept there is enough to be off-putting to me. But I guess I lost the ability to complain that I'm lagging behind the group in power.

But I no longer love my character. Sure, I LOVE venom. My absolute favorite comic character. But Grobnak the half orc barbarian fighter is not Eddie Brock. And this ooze isn't really venom. It's.... Venom-lite. Because I am not a super hero, which is fine! I don't want to be overpowered! But the thing I'm supposed to be IS overpowered. So I don't really feel like venom. And I'm not Grobnak the wants-to-be-a-monk-and-sometimes-punches-pretty-good any more either.

But I'm going to do my best to learn to love him (Grobnak) again, because the other campaign I've been in (which all of the other characters on this blog were part of) just got put on hold indefinitely.

#d&d 5e #d&d character #d&d #d&d shenanigans

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somethingvicked · 6 years

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Masquerade of Life

Chapter 1

Claire

My cellphone rang the moment I came into my dorm room. I had just sat through a lecture about Dante Alighieri and what his work had meant to modern poetry, so a bit of distraction was very welcome, making me answer quickly before the caller hung up.

"Hello?"

"Claire?" I heard my father, Charlie Swan ask at the other end of the receiver.

It's my phone dad, who else, I thought to myself as I smiled from hearing from my father "No, chief Swan, you have actually reached Queen Elizabeth II. God bless me!" I exclaimed with my best British accent.

Charlie chuckled but his heart wasn't in it, which I immediately noticed and got tense. Something must be wrong.

"Nice to see one of my daughters still has her humor intact," he muttered making me confused.

"What?" I wondered, silently begging him to explain. So this, whatever it was must be about Bella.

My fraternal twin sister Isabella was currently living with our dad in Forks, Washington while I lived in London, attending Queen Mary's University. It was the first time Bella and I had been separated in our 18-years of life.

Up until a year ago we had both lived with our mom, Renee and then later her husband Phil. Renee and Charlie had met when Renee was only 19 and gotten headfirst into a marriage and then getting pregnant with us only a few months later.

Renee had tried, I guess, but it was no secret she hated Forks. She hated the constant rain, the small town life and only meeting the same people over and over. So when me and Bella were just toddlers she took us and left, divorcing Charlie in the process as he didn't want to leave Forks.

She moved to Phoenix in Arizona and it was not a bad place to live. Always sunny, lots of other children and never boring. I missed my dad lots though, making a habit out of going to Forks and visit him every Christmas and Easter.

Bella did so too during our younger years, but apparently lost interest when we were around 11 years old. She didn't like Forks either, she hated the rain and the coldness. Instead dad had to take a trip to California, booking rooms at a hotel as a compromise for Bella. I didn't like that and I had told Bella many times. Charlie shouldn't have to leave his home just to see his daughters. But Bella only said the rain made her depressed; making her want to curl up in bed and never get up.

The weather in Forks could be depressing, yes, she had a point there. But the fact that she couldn't put up with it for two-three weeks every year just to see our father, her own flesh and blood, made me angry at her and it was a recurring factor in the few arguments we had.

Which had made me even more astonished when Bella had decided to move to Forks last year when I got a letter from England, telling me that I had gotten an early acceptance into the Queen Mary University of London, a school for drama and literature – everything I had ever dreamed of!

Secretly I was also relieved because it would give me the chance to be something else than Bella Swan's sister. I loved Bella, I really did – we had come into this world together, me being just 11 minutes younger than her – we were family. But all my life I had to watch out for her. Even when we were little girls.

For some reason Bella was so utterly clumsy that she managed to trip over daisies and spraining her foot while walking over soft beach sand. And all my life, ever since I was old enough to understand the words it had been "Please watch over your sister, Claire! We don't want her to hurt herself!"

It was no different when we got older either. Renee had always been a bit of an eccentric mom, wanting us to try out as many hobbies as possible. Now, with a child like Bella one would think that she could leave her out of things such as volleyball, ballet and horse riding. But nope. And if Bella came home with a bruised face because the volleyball had hit her in the face I knew what would come: "Why didn't you look after Bella, Claire?" Same if she broke her toes during ballet practice. Or fell of a horse.

Bella didn't like it either – I assume no one would like to hear constant reminders that they need a baby sitter, especially as the oldest sister.

I couldn't resent my mom though. She was one of those eternal children of the world that never really grew up. She didn't know how to handle Bella's constant accidents so she looked to me for handling it.

It was also thanks to Renee that I found two of my biggest passions: Theater and kick boxing. I had joined a drama club at the age of 10 and been a member ever since. It was because of that it got me my early acceptance into the university.

By then Renee had met Phil, a junior league baseball player and married him. He was a bit younger than her but our mother had always seemed younger than her age so they mixed well together. But he had to travel a lot in his work and Renee missed him terribly. She tried to make it seem like no big deal but it was like watching an exotic flower wither in loss of the sun.

I sometimes played with the idea of bringing up moving to Forks for the last two school years, but I always thought better of it because of Bella's attitude to Fork's. Then when my acceptance letter came, Bella suddenly said she would go live with Charlie. Since I wouldn't be home anymore either then mom could travel with Phil.

When saying this she sounded more like someone in court pleading guilty to make a better deal but I kept my mouth shut. Charlie would be really happy to have Bella living with him and Renee would be happy to be with Phil. If Bella wanted to play the martyr and hope it got her into heaven I would let her.

It probably sounded like I resent my sister – I really don't. But even though she's my twin she can be a bit of a whiny brat sometimes. She was responsible in her own way, absolutely, no trouble maker at all. And she and I had silently shared the housework between us for years as it was easier doing so than trusting our mom to remember it. Neither Bella or I had complained about that - so I couldn't say she never helped out around home either.

But Bella shied away from people, not making contact and being socially awkward when I tried introducing some of my friends. I didn't fault her for that though – some people were just like that, introverts. But it was her face of moping and loneliness in the corridors of school that irritated me. One can't both complain about feeling like an outsider and not wanting anything to do with people at the same time.

The way she manipulated the love our dad had for us also made me angry – it always had to be about whether Bella was comfortable or not during our visits, not what Charlie or I wanted.

But when telling her this I always got a sad puppy-dog look and a: "How can you think that about me, Claire?!"

I woke up from my thoughts about my sister when Charlie asked in a high voice: "Claire! Have you even heard a thing I said?"

"Umm … no, sorry, dad. What did you say?"

Charlie sighed. "It's about that boy … Edward. She told you about him, right?"

Yeah, she did. Bella and I didn't talk regularly but we exchanged emails from time to time. I had thought about sending her postcards or letters from London but on a student scholarship I couldn't really afford it.

Bella had told me about this guy, Edward Cullen that she had started to date last year. It was a bit mysterious since Bella had seemed head over heels for him at first. Then, over a weekend she had suddenly broke it off with him, fleeing away from Forks, telling Charlie she didn't want to get stuck like our mother (way to go with hurting dad with just words, Bella!). And then Edward had gone after her and it all ended with Bella tripping down the stairs and crashing into a window, breaking her leg.

I had wanted to come to the hospital but mom had pleaded with me to stay in London. Bella was okay and apparently she didn't want me to come. Thanks for that one, sis.

I always wondered if Edward was the one that had hurt her, making her come back to him and back to Forks. But when I tried to ask Bella about the accident she had blown up at me and said Edward would never harm her, closed our chat window and ignored me for weeks.

Touchy.

Last I heard from Bella had been on our birthday two months ago and then everything seemed fine. In fact she mentioned that Edward's family was going to throw her a birthday party – just for her and them since they knew what Bella thought about birthday celebration. I thought it very sweet of them.

"What about him?" I asked Charlie, pushing my thoughts away again.

"Well … the day after yours and Bella's birthday … he and his family just … left! They left their house, Forks, everything. Edward apparently broke up with Bella and she … I don't know what happened – she didn't come home that night and this guy from La Push found her in the woods, all curled up and … and I don't know what to do, Claire. She's like a shell of her former self. She does everything asked of her but … and she's screaming during the nights. Crying in her sleep like someone's shoved a knife through her. Every freaking night, Claire!"

My father's voice broke and I could feel his pain inside my chest. It must be very bad if he called me.

"That's so awful," I said. "How could they just leave like that? And did that had anything to do with why he and Bella broke up?"

"I don't know," Charlie said. "Bella never told me much about him. I thought him a good kid despite everything. The doctor and his wife are nice people after all."

I sighed again. "Do you want me to come home, dad?"

He mimicked my sigh. "You don't have to Claire, I hope you know that. But honestly … neither I nor Renee know what to do with your sister. Renee thought you might know, with how close you guys have always been … it's okay with me if you don't, but it would also be nice to not be alone in this."

I frowned when he mentioned my mother's thoughts about me and Bella. Renee had always had some kind of mythological thoughts about us since we were twins and twins were supposed to understand everything about each other. I had tried to explain to Renee that is was really just a myth and that we were fraternal twins on top of that – not really closer than regular siblings since we didn't have the exact same DNA like identical twins did.

Me and Bella had been close as children when we really just were everything the other one had but as we grew and developed our own personalities and interests we grew apart from each other. That didn't mean that we didn't care about each other but we were not like Renee thought us.

"I understand, dad," I told Charlie, "Umm … well I have to speak to the university counselors and make a few arrangements. It's almost Christmas and just a few lectures left. I should be able to do them over distance. Then we can try and figure this out over the holiday."

Charlie exhaled in the other end, relief palpable in his tone. "Really? That's great, sweetheart. Thank you. Call me when you've gotten the go from your teachers, I'll book you a ticket home."

"I will daddy. I love you."

"Love you too, sweetie," Charlie mumbled and then hung up.

I tossed my cellphone on the bed in my little dorm room, angrily punching my bookshelf. What the hell had that boy done to Bella?!

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #caius volturi #lovestory

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