#RSD but not having a care left to give | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gerrystamour · 11 months

Text

run it back (give me five whole minutes)

Rated T | Steddie Week Day 5: Together | 1700 Words | Complete

[ READ ON AO3 ]

“Maybe I can come help you?” “No, Eds, you need to sleep tonight. You and Wayne have a lot of driving to do tomorrow, don’t you?” “Yeah, just… we’re not gonna see each other for a week, and we haven’t really seen each other for a couple of days already…” “I know. I’m sorry…” If you're seeing me reposting it, no you aren't. ANYWAY this is my entry for @steddie-week Day 5: Established Relationship & Together CW: Some negative self-talk because I decided to inflict some of my RSD on Steeb.

By the time Steve left work, his entire head was full of static. There was a pounding, pulling feeling just behind his left eye and it felt like his eardrums were ready to rupture with how loud his ears rang. So much had been going on all day, and then some moron knocked over an entire shelf literally five minutes before the store closed.

Steve had been tempted to tidy it up as best as he could and leave a note, but he knew Keith would fire him if he did that. Normally, he wouldn’t really care because cleaning up the mess would normally help settle his mood before he went home to bed.

But he had plans. He had plans and now he had to cancel them to clean up a mess so he didn’t get fired.

The phone call had sucked to make, telling Eddie that he wasn’t going to be able to make it to his place after work.

“Maybe I can come help you?”

“No, Eds, you need to sleep tonight. You and Wayne have a lot of driving to do tomorrow, don’t you?”

“Yeah, just… we’re not gonna see each other for a week, and we haven’t really seen each other for a couple of days already…”

“I know. I’m sorry…”

Eddie had reassured Steve that it was okay, that he understood, that he wasn’t mad. But Steve couldn’t shake the repeating, screaming thoughts that he fucked up big time. That it was a mistake to prioritize his shitty minimum wage job over seeing his boyfriend before he left to visit the few extended family members he and Wayne still spoke to for a week.

Steve was just destined to be a shit boyfriend, apparently.

That thought had to be shut down quickly because he didn’t want to do something embarrassing like cry while he was still within the four walls of Family Video.

So he focused on righting the shelf and reorganizing the videos correctly. A few cases got damaged, so he set those aside with a note for Keith. By the time he finished, it was one in the morning.

There was a chance Eddie was still awake because if Steve knew his boyfriend, he knew the man didn’t have a healthy sleep schedule. But what good would calling him do? Steve already chose work over him, so calling now would just rub that in.

Steve locked up the store and drove home, tears welling up in his eyes and blurring his vision. He fucked up bad and he was going to have to figure out how to fix it fast. Steve kept replaying the distracted way Eddie said he loved him on the phone when they hung-up earlier, which made him think of all the times Nancy said she loved him.

Maybe if he woke up super early the next morning, he could get to Eddie’s trailer before he left, and he could apologize in person and see him? Waking up early after a shift like the one he had and working past one in the morning was a recipe for a migraine, or at least a tension headache from hell, but it would be worth it to make this up to Eddie.

Steve couldn’t lose Eddie over his stupid bullshit.

By the time Steve pulled into the driveway of his house, he was struggling to hold back the tears. He wasn’t normally a crier, just when he was exhausted, in pain, and a bit heartsick all at once. Steve couldn’t stand that about himself, especially in moments like this where it wasn’t even okay for him to be that upset. He fucked up, why was he upset?

Entering his dark, quiet house, Steve quickly locked the front door and tossed his keys at the bowl on the table near the front door before trudging loudly up the stairs without taking off his shoes. He barely cared that his keys missed the bowl entirely and clattered loudly to the floor.

Steve didn’t even notice there was already a set of keys sitting in the bowl.

He didn’t stop until he was in his bathroom, staring at his tear-streaked and miserable face. “Stupid,” he muttered to himself as he started taking off his clothes for a shower. “Worst fucking boyfriend, why does anyone even fucking bother with you?”

“Hey!”

Steve jumped, too startled even to shout, and he turned on the intruder with fists ready. He wasn’t prepared to see his boyfriend, sleep-soft and frowning at him.

“Eds?” he asked, confusion blurring with his self-loathing. Why was Eddie here? Shit, he must’ve felt so bad for Steve he came over. Once again, someone else was doing all the fucking emotional work in the relationship, and Eddie had to be up early—

“Don’t talk about my boyfriend like that,” Eddie said firmly, stepping into the bathroom to hold Steve’s face.

“What?” he asked, dazed now that Eddie was standing in his space and touching him.

“You were saying mean shit about my amazing boyfriend, Steve,” Eddie said, and Steve’s expression crumpled.

“Don’t—you don’t have to say that. You’re just being nice—” Steve started, but he was interrupted by Eddie scoffing.

“Sweetheart, when am I ever ‘just being nice’ to anyone?” Eddie asked and Steve couldn’t really argue that. Eddie wasn’t mean, and he wasn’t always forthcoming with talking about his feelings on matters, but he was never nice for the sake of being nice. If he was telling someone something with his words, then that meant something.

“But I didn’t leave work,” Steve said weakly, trying to find the justifications for why he was a terrible boyfriend. “You’re leaving tomorrow and I didn’t leave work to see you.”

“Stevie, that’s your job. You—did I even ask you to leave work?” Eddie asked, bewildered.

“You shouldn’t have to ask me!” Steve said with no small amount of frustration. What wasn’t Eddie understanding about this? Steve wasn’t being attentive, he wasn’t thinking three steps ahead, he wasn’t reading between the lines of Eddie’s questions and requests well enough.

“So if I asked you to leave that huge mess and lose your job, you would’ve?” Eddie asked skeptically, but something must have shown on Steve’s face because Eddie’s expression faltered. “Babe, staying behind at work was fine. I’m not so needy that you should drop everything and come running to comfort me.”

“But you were upset,” Steve insisted, taking a step back out of Eddie’s hands. “You were upset and I didn’t—”

“I was upset because you sounded so miserable on the phone! I wasn’t—fuck, Steve, I’m sorry I made you feel like I was upset with you,” Eddie said, stepping forward to cup Steve’s face again. Then he added, “Yeah, I wanted to see you before I went on the worst fucking trip ever, and yeah I was sad I wouldn’t, but I was mostly sad that you were having such a shitty day.”

“I didn’t even tell you about my day, though,” Steve said, a bit dazed.

“Didn’t have to, sweetheart,” Eddie replied with a sweet smile. “You did your Headache Brewing Sigh after every sentence,” he elaborated after a moment and Steve’s heart ached at being known so deeply.

“You should be sleeping, Eds,” Steve said weakly, stepping forward into Eddie’s embrace.

“I’m not going anymore. I didn’t wanna go in the first place, so I told Wayne I’m staying home,” Eddie replied, and his arms tightened around him when Steve tried to pull away. “Don’t, you beautiful little martyr. I didn’t want to go so I’m not going. There’s nothing more to it, don’t make it about you.”

Steve felt all the fight leave his body, resting his weight more heavily against Eddie with a shaky sigh, his head dropping to Eddie’s shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed, baby,” Eddie cooed, petting his hair, but Steve shook his head.

“I just need to shower first,” he said, and he could feel Eddie nodding.

“Alright, let’s do that, then bed,” Eddie said brightly, stepping back carefully to start taking off his pajamas. When Steve opened his mouth to argue, Eddie held a finger to his lips with a playfully stern expression. “I’m taking care of you tonight, Stevie. It’ll be over quicker if you just let me.”

At that, Steve huffed a tired laugh and rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he grumbled lightly and finished undressing.

The shower took them a long time, Eddie refusing to let Steve do any of the work to wash himself off. Eddie just grabbed each bottle Steve reached for and did everything for him. At one point, Steve let out a sigh that carried a small vocalization at the end, his body finally relaxing under the hot spray of the shower and his boyfriend’s cool hands.

Eddie took that moment to drop a soft, almost distracted kiss to the back of Steve’s shoulder and the tenderness of that tiny gesture broke through something in him. With a shaky inhale, Steve turned around and wrapped his arms around Eddie, burying his face into the junction of his boyfriend’s shoulder and neck with a sigh. There were tears in Steve’s eyes again, but this time they weren’t sad.

When Eddie immediately wrapped his own arms around him, Steve kissed the skin his mouth was closest to before tipping his head back to meet Eddie’s eyes.

“I love you,” Steve confessed so quietly that the shower almost drowned him out.

Eddie heard it though, or read his lips, and his big brown eyes widened a bit. Then a grin split his face and he dropped a kiss onto Steve’s mouth. “I love you, too,” Eddie said without pulling away and Steve pressed closer to deepen the kiss again.

Standing under the steady spray of the shower, they kissed each other slow and sweet, searching even if they knew their ways around each other’s mouths. It was different now that they’d said the word they had both been thinking since the day they first kissed.

Finally, the temperature of the water began to waver and they pulled away from the kiss.

“Holy shit, so there is an end to the Harrington water heater,” Eddie marveled as they quickly finished up and turned the water off.

Once they were tucked into bed, Steve reached across the space between them to pull Eddie into his arms tightly. Eddie laughed as he settled, wrapping himself around Steve and sighing happily.

“I love you,” Steve said again, yawning.

Eddie turned his head where it rested and kissed Steve’s chest. “Love you, too, Stevie.”

[AO3 LINK]

[ NEXT FIC ]

I hope you enjoy and please consider reblogging! Taglist! @steddie-there, @patchworkgargoyle, @scarcrossdlvrs, @indigohightide, @steddieas-shegoes, @steve-harringtits, @mylilplanet, @afewproblems, @xenon-demon, @inairbinad, @matchingbatbites

#steddie #steve x eddie #steddieweek2023 #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve/eddie #gerry writes

296 notes · View notes

dreamties · 2 years

Text

Reader W/ a Clingy! Kurt Kunkle

A/n- clingy killers??? hello?? this is my favorite flavor of slasher. (that. or letting us be clingy <333)

Requested by Anon! :)

The headcanon section is relatively short, but I also added a sort of oneshot bit that lands at 546 words! Enjoy folks <3

Pre-Relationship

Kurt has never heard of this "personal boundary" people speak of

he's always hanging off of you in same way. holding on your arm, and holding hands- in public, at home . . . just the two of you, in videos, what not.

This is also specifically in the context of being friends

you think it's just Kurt being affectionate, it's really sweet, actually. but he has no idea how to communicate that it's more than that

that he needs your attention, and care, and he wants to show you how much he loves you but it's difficult to say that aloud, yknow?

kurt is soooo sensitive to rejection it's not even funny (is it the RSD related to him being an ADHDer???? lol probably)

Dating <3

he would be less clingy when you start dating but at the same time be more so clingy????

kurt can be full of multitudes as a lil treat <3

less physically clingy, and more emotionally so

like he has this energy that begs and whines for your attention

and he's so terrified of losing you, even if he doesn't feel the need to constantly be letting the world know you're his by an arm around the shoulder anymore. he just NEEDS them to instinctively know by seeing the two of you together, and HELL be damned if they don't. because the two of you are so obviously together and would Never break up <3333

sometimes he gets self-conscious about how much he needs you. like it's probably SO FRUSTRATING to deal with him . . . right?

He gets better at opening up when you're finally together

so hopefully you can recognize when he's feeling down and out of it and help to comfort him.

"Kurt?" You rest your body against the door frame, waiting for a response from your boyfriend. "Babe?"

You sigh. "I'm worried about you, you haven't left your room all day. Kurt, honey, please open the door."

You can hear scurrying beyond the door, a familiar click of his computer turning on. He opens the door with a wide smile, "I was just about to go on stream."

"We need to talk."

He kind of shakes his head yet pretends he doesn't hear you all together. "C'mon, please? You should join me. The Kurties would love to have you back."

"Kurt. . ."

"Please?"

You let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine, but we're talking after."

He smiles and nods. He drags you into his room, where he has his entire streaming set up, by your hand. You close the door behind the two of you. He settles into his gaming chair, and tugs at your hand, motioning for you to come sit with him.

"I can just get a chair from the garage, hun."

"No, please, it's okay."

You recognize his behavior as clingy. The whole reason you had been worried today is that he hadn't been clingy. He had not kept you company in your office while you worked, did not hang out in the kitchen as you made late breakfast for yourself (usually you would make extra, and give it to him, so you could eat at the table together). He did not once try to chat your ear off.

You should be happy that he seems to find his place back in his skin, but something's still off.

What happened to your baby, to make him think he shouldn't do that? That he shouldn't be close, and loving, and with you.

"Okay." You agree and slip yourself onto his lap. He fiddles a bit more with his software and the camera angle, before hitting start on the stream.

"Hey, what's up, everybody? Welcome back to Kurtzworld! I'm joined by my wonderful partner today."

He waves, greeting everyone that joins, he slowly moves so that his arms connect around you and he's leaning his chin- comfortably and soft- in the crook of your shoulder.

You wave to his audience, as well. You'd done this a hundred times- and you'd do it forever, if that's what Kurt wanted.

"What do you have planned today?" You smile towards him and gives a ridiculous look back.

"Not much, thinking we could answer some questions. How's the sound, Kurties?" He looks towards the chat for approval. It's resounding with praise.

His eyes glance towards yours, begging if it's okay.

You give him a genuine look, it's serious- and he knows he can't ignore his feelings forever, that as soon as the camera's off, that you will be forcing him to have an honest conversation on why he's been so off lately. But he can also tell you're proud of him- which you are, you always- that he found a way to reach out to you and get what he wanted.

You drop the seriousness, the direct request for a conversation- for now. You kiss his cheek. You're happy to play along.

"Of course, honey, I love you."

You laugh as Kurt grows red in the face, acting all cute and embarrassed.

#kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle x you #kurt kunkle x y/n #slashers x reader #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #slashers x s/i #kurt kunkle x s/i #spree #spree movie #spree 2020 #reblogs are appreciated #seriously folks #reblogs and engagement besides likes is !!! so sweet actually <3

123 notes · View notes

drpeppertummy · 7 months

Note

it's not just a want but a NEED. a lusty, dusty desire I have for Dark Sunny Lore

You Sicko . The Dark Sunny Lore [warning for illness death suicide self harm child abuse/neglect etc]

his dad never wanted him bc he only wanted 3 kids & sunny was an accidental #4. was always very open about not wanting him bc hes a shitty old bitch

additionally sunny was sick all the time & frequently in the hospital (asthma + other respiratory ailments) & dad was resentful bc he never wanted this sick kid taking up all his time & money

his mom was super loving & wonderful but she died when he was like 12. she died from some kind of respiratory situation & the question of Was It His Fault And Will It Kill Him Too is always in the back of his mind

not long after mom died his dad tried to passively let him die too by refusing to take him to the hospital when he was really sick. his sister giuliana finally took him after coming home from school one day & seeing how awful he looked

was good about being in the hospital as a kid & was always like the nurses little darling bc he was such a sweetie but now has a medical phobia bc in his brain its associated with all that misery & pain & fear

outside of his home life pretty much everyone always liked him & he always had a lot of friends & was popular etc but nothing ever made up for the damage his dad did to him mentally

he knows people like him on a superficial level bc he knows hes cute & charismatic on a superficial level but hes scared that if people get close to him theyll realize hes just annoying & hate him

secretly terrified that his friends hate him & are just tolerating him

prone to bouts of depression, often spirals into a terrible mental state if he stays up late. Night Brain hits hard esp when its mixed with rsd

when he was in college he tried to kill himself by taking a bunch of random medications with a bunch of vodka & it made him sick & knocked him out for a while but miraculously didnt kill him

he woke up in the same spot he left himself in & realized nobody found him or noticed & therefore nobody could care. wanted to tell someone so bad bc he Needed somebody to care & hug him & say they were glad he was alive but he was scared to bc he thought theyd get mad at him or think he was too much or not care since he was "fine" so he just peeled himself off the floor took a shower & went to class like nothing happened. his professor scolded him for coming in hungover

(he eventually told gray about it years later & gray held him & gave him that years-awaited love & care & it was like a soul-healing moment for him)

(gray knows more about him than anybody & he worries about him a lot & sunny feels bad for worrying him but he also appreciates that grays always there for him)

as a kid he would bite himself a lot if he was upset/frustrated/overstimulated & he still does sometimes but only when hes alone. its almost like a reflex & if anyone saw hed be mortified

once in a while tho he like actually cuts himself. if someone asks what happened he gives some absurd excuse like "i got mauled by a bear" & refuses to elaborate bc hes scared & ashamed

hes trying to get better but he almost certainly will attempt suicide again someday. he wont succeed but he Will be so so terrified that his friends are gonna be mad at him for it when he comes to (spoiler: they wont be mad at him)

apart from gray his friends dont know the extent of his mental health problems bc he tries to keep it to himself bc he doesnt wanna worry them & bc hes ashamed & afraid they wont want him anymore. the most they really see of it is him being moody sometimes

once in a while somebody will see him break down over something & they know his dad sucks & they know he misses his mom & they can piece together that hes gotta be hurting but hes usually so bouncy & bubbly & cheery that they dont realize how bad it is

#message #xsunnyx

12 notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 2 years

Text

Out of Commission

Prompts: Hello fellow ace buddy! I’m in a very specific mood tonight and I think you and your wonderful writing can help me out… Picture this, Roman is out of commission (hurt, sick, creative block, etc) but refuses to acknowledge or address any of it (perhaps because of some ✨self esteem issues✨) meanwhile Janus is just trying to get him to actually take care of himself so they can both get back to doing their jobs Again I literally worship your A03, you are absolutely phenomenal and have written some of my favorite fics of all time. You’re an incredible human who’s doing wonderful things for this community and it just makes my day to see you on my dash! - anon

hi! i have loved and read your stories for a while now, and i finally have the guts to request a thing! i stumbled across a prompt a while ago where character a has a nervous tic that they do anytime they're stressed or anxious, and character b is hellbent on comforting them every time they notice it. I imagined the prompt with roman as a and remus as b, but you could do whatever characters you want! (preferrably platonic for my aro self) - anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, self-esteem issues, RSD

Pairings: platonic creativitwins, roceit can be platonic or romantic you choose

Word Count: 5417

There is something to be said about selflessness, and it’s not that it’s good.

There is something to be said about opening your arms to give someone a hug and realizing that you’ve forgotten what it feels like to receive a hug yourself. Because you’re no longer focusing on the warmth and pressure from having another person in your arms, their arms around you. You’re focusing on where your arms should go, is this comfortable for them, how much pressure is too much? You become dependent on your ability to read them, to know when to pull back. The hug becomes about them, and your ability to give them what they want.

There is something to be said about creating something and realizing that the only reason you’re doing it is to please someone else. Because you’re no longer focusing on how the world flow from your heart and your mind down your arms, your fingers, onto the page. You focus instead on what they want, on what they need, and what they don’t even know they wish to hear yet. You’re focusing on the bits and pieces of scraps of attention they’ve left on the ground behind them so that you might, in vain, pick them up and piece them together. You’re not working for you, you’re working so they don’t have to.

There is something to be said about making selflessness part of yourself, and realizing there’s no space left for your self inside it.

Roman is no stranger to strong emotions. He and Patton collaborate most of the time, because, of course, one can’t have hopes and dreams without hope. So yes, when Patton feels and aches and soars, Roman is with him, building a scaffolding underneath or helping to haul them higher, higher, into the clouds.

But Roman can only do so much.

He can’t stop Patton from feeling things, no more than he can stop Virgil from being anxious or Logan from being reasonable. He can only create and create and create, hoping that somewhere in there, there will be something that they can use.

He’s gotten used to it. The grind of creating, of pouring himself into each and every last thing he can cobble together and presenting it to the others with an earnest smile and heart full of hope. And it’s worth it, isn’t it, to see their smiles, to feel their relief, to see Thomas grow stronger and stronger each day?

Isn’t it?

Well, no.

Yes, yes, of course it is, but…not all the time.

Sometimes, it…hurts.

Again, no stranger to strong emotions. It’s easier to create from a place of pain, after all. Pain is easy. There’s a reason many writers disparage those who only write heaps and heaps of suffering. The banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain and all that. And yes, he’s been known to describe writing as being willing to sit at a keyboard and bleed for an audience. There is something unsparingly vulnerable about creating, he’s learned in the years of shedding layers of himself and calling them works of art.

Roman sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s the last time I have licorice tea this late at night.”

He sets the teacup on the desk and stands, scrubbing his hand over his face. The last of the fancy-schmancy words fade as he rubs his eyes, heading for the bathroom. He flicks the light on and starts to wash his face.

The rambling part of his brain—that seems to have an affection for purple prose—was kind of onto something, though. It’s so much easier to write and make something when it hurts to do. Why is that? Maybe he should ask Logan.

Roman scoffs and turns off the water. Definitely awake too late.

He manages to get through the rest of his nighttime routine and head toward the bed when it hits.

Ah. So that’s why he was drinking tea so late at night.

And why his purple-prose brain was so active.

“Son of a bitch,” he mutters through gritted teeth, leaning against the wall and rubbing his chest with his hand, “shut up.”

The cold pit yawning in his stomach pays him no mind. Instead, it grows bigger, a black hole in his sternum that makes his lungs ache. He stumbles, trying to get to the bed before it gets worse.

His hands start to tingle.

“Come on, come on.”

His legs buckle and he flops gracelessly onto the bed, shivering as he tugs the covers up around him.

No sooner has he gone limp, the cold spreads. His arms become husks, shriveling and useless at his sides as they grow heavier and heavier. He wants to collapse into the event horizon and never crawl out of it again if only it means he’ll stop hurting.

And if he can stop thinking this dramatically, that’d be good too.

Roman closes his eyes and does his damnedest to muffle the whine in his throat. He is fine. He is safe in his bed, in the house, in the Mindscape, and he is going to sleep and he is going to be fine.

He is not going to shrink and shrivel into some cold pathetic mess. He is not going to fall apart under his blankets. He is not going to be overwhelmed by the tidal wave of loneliness and desperation that makes his body scream.

He is not going to do any of those things. He isn’t. He isn’t.

When Virgil asks him why he heard something whining inside his room last night, he says it was a new bear cub from the Imagination that he had to take care of.

———

Sometimes Remus wishes he could be more like everybody else and not see as much as he does.

And that’s not about the weird squirmy thoughts that make him smile when he’s trying to go to sleep. The best lullabies have screams and curses and bloodcurdling images, wouldn’t you agree? And he’s never going to pass up the shadow demons that hover over everyone. The one on Virgil’s shoulders is really cute with its snapping jaws and he’s got a particular interest in Logan’s. It has this long proboscis that sucks the life out of the room. And the noises, are you fucking kidding? The noises are the best bits! Nothing like haunting carousel music late at night to remind you that you’re not alone.

Sometimes, though…

Remus glares as Roman’s hand twitches for the fourth time. No one else has noticed, because no one else is paying any attention, but Remus notices. And if Roman’s hand twitches one more time, he’s going to cut it off with his chainsaw.

Well, no, he won’t. He’d never actually do that, mainly ‘cause it would make Roman mad and not the good kind of mad. The kind where he gets all cold and polite and it makes Remus want to claw that statue off of his brother so he can have him back.

But even his fantasies of cutting Roman’s hand off don’t make him stop glaring because Roman’s hand is still twitching.

That’s probably a good thing. That means he can still move it. But that means sooner or later it’s going to stop twitching and Remus does not trust his brother enough to trust that.

Okay, okay, fine, he trusts Roman. Roman is, ugh, good at his job and he keeps them all safe and he makes sure Thomas has a steady source of income which is good. And yeah, okay, Roman is the most fun to play with out of everybody and he can trust that Roman will make sure they both have fun and everything. Yadda yadda, sappy shit, we get it.

But he doesn’t trust Roman to take care of himself. Not as far as the Kraken can throw him.

And that’s evidenced by the fact that Roman’s hand just stopped twitching.

Remus glares at it as though that will make it start moving again. It should, if it knows what’s good for it, but it won’t. He knows it won’t. Because Roman can’t move it anymore now.

He turns his glare toward the others, who aren’t even looking at Roman anymore.

He seethes.

Sometimes he wishes Roman weren’t so clever.

Now, most people who know Thomas know that his neuros are not the most typical, but what they don’t know is that each of the individual Sides has their own not-so-typical neuros. Some of them are obvious, like Virgil over there with his big spiky Anxiety, but some of them aren’t. And some of them are really, really annoying because Remus can’t even see them.

He gets some help now and then with the whole turn-of-phrase thing. Thanks to the Imagination and Logan’s tendency to take things literally, some things get visualized a lot easier than other things. Hence the reason Janus wears a cloak and has twenty extra pairs of pants.

Wow, he’s feeling expository today, isn’t he?

He shakes it off and goes back to glaring at Roman’s stupid hand that’s a fucking traitor to the arm it’s attached to and as stupidly self-sacrificing as Roman is himself. He wants it to move. It needs to move, now, please.

It lies dead at Roman’s side.

Which means Remus has to wait.

He does, barely, all but vibrating in place as Logan drones on about…something, and Patton responds with something nauseatingly earnest and Virgil quips back at for the love of good fuck, how do these people have the same argument every goddamn day? Remus is bored just thinking about it.

Finally, finally, the conversation comes to an end and everybody starts sinking out. He jumps forward and grabs onto Roman before he fully disappears.

“Remus!”

“Hey, Ro-bro,” Remus says, sinking them straight to Roman’s room and latching his arms tightly around his waist, “it’s cuddle time.”

“Wh—Remus, I have work to do!”

“No, you don’t.” Remus tightens his grip stubbornly as Roman tries to pry him off. “You’re fine. You just got to the end of your projects. You can relax now.”

Roman pauses. “Why…how do you know my schedule?”

“Because I do. Now it’s cuddle time. That’s what time it is.”

His heart in his throat, Remus clings on as Roman twists and turns and sighs. He’s still only using one hand. If Roman uses both hands to pry him off, he’ll count it as a win and leave him alone. He just has to use more than one hand. He just has to get that other hand to work.

But then Roman stills.

Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t you fucking dare, you absolute bastard.

“Okay, Remus,” Roman says softly, too fucking softly, “cuddle time it is.”

Remus grits his teeth but snaps his fingers, changing them into softer clothes as Roman moves them to the bed. He sprawls out on top of his brother, tucking his head over his shoulder as Roman settles underneath him.

“There,” Roman murmurs, the hand that’s working coming up to scratch at his scalp, “is that better?”

No, Remus thinks, but he reaches for Roman’s traitor hand and picks it up. It hangs there, limp and useless, as he pulls it to his face.

Roman shudders underneath him and he holds on tighter.

Don’t run away from me, Roro. Let me look after you because no one else will do it.

When Roman slowly relaxes, his other hand falling to his side, Remus carefully rubs his cheek against the lifeless hand and cradles it in his.

“R-Re—“

“If you weren’t so stubborn,” he says, “I wouldn’t have to trap you to let me do this.”

Roman flinches. “Sorry—“

“It was a joke,” he says quickly, squeezing Roman’s hand, “I don’t mind.”

Slowly, methodically, he starts to try and massage the feeling back into the hand. It lies useless against him, even as Roman’s breathing hitches and stutters. The reassurances are clumsy as they roll off his tongue but they seem to do the trick as Roman swallows.

“…it’s cold, Re.”

Despite himself, the slight tremor that Roman finally allowed himself to make has Remus shivering, reaching for Roman’s thick blankets and pulling them over them. Darkness closes itself over their heads, Roman’s breath warming the top of Remus’s head. He continues to work, patiently getting the feeling back into Roman’s hand.

After who knows how long, it twitches.

Remus pauses.

Slowly, so slowly, Roman’s hand wraps around his and squeezes.

“…thank you, Remus.”

Remus rubs his nose across Roman’s knuckles. “Anytime.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

———

Janus finds himself in the position of being someone who doesn’t know something and he decides that this is perfectly acceptable.

For starters, he’s supposed to be the one sneaking around and trying to bridge the gap between Light and Dark. He’s supposed to be the one whispering words of cooperating and testing things out. So why is Remus stealing his thunder?

Remus isn’t exactly subtle, the man’s idea of a hidden trap is a bear trap laid in the middle of the living room floor, perfectly placed to have the maximum radius for shoving someone into it. And he certainly doesn’t know why Remus has a series of scars around his right calf from where he forgot that there was, oh, I don’t know, a massive bear trap in the living room?

He digresses.

He’s been making some progress, sure. Logan is an excellent conversation partner, after all, when he’s not yoked by those stubborn tendrils of morality Patton insists on winding around all of them. And Logan was never one to actively oppose him, only to hold on to a little bit of resentment when Janus shuttles him to the, er, sidelines of whatever argument is going on. But he’s apologized for that, and Logan has made it clear he doesn’t hold too much of a grudge. So it’s all fine and dandy.

Now, the others…are proving to be a little more difficult.

In an ironic twist—one that he should be able to appreciate but can’t because it’s directed at him—the ones that he predicted would be the most difficult are actually bothering to listen to him.

Virgil…oh, Virgil. So quick to snap and bark like a feral little junkyard dog…it hadn’t hurt the first time he’d snapped and said they weren’t friends. And then to hear over and over how he shouldn’t be listened to…

It hadn’t been easy, per se, to remember how to shrug off just enough of the masks to make the poor thing see that he wasn’t going to hurt him.

And Patton, well, that was supposed to be hard. They were supposed to disagree, their very functions contradicted each other. But then the wedding happened and the fallout had rocked the entire foundations of the Mindscape and, well…never let it be said that Patton was unreasonable.

Which, of course, brings him to Roman.

Janus sighs, rubbing his temples and shaking his head. If Virgil is a feral dog, snapping and biting when he feels threatened, Roman is a little pup, shivering and shaking and trying so, so hard not to be afraid. He can hear all the lies buffeting about the prince’s ears and he’s sure Virgil can hear all the anxieties buzzing in his head. Is it the fact that he’s the Ego that makes him so afraid or so compliant? Is it the fact that Creativity is so inextricably linked with all of them that he has to listen to them even when he doesn’t want to?

But no, there’s listening and then there’s Roman, who needed only the littlest push before he toppled over the edge and lost himself in the show.

Janus winces. He…could’ve handled that better, perhaps.

But see, now, herein lies the problem. If Roman were receptive to his ideas to begin with, what on earth will he be like now? Janus hasn’t exactly ingratiated himself to the prince, and even if the rest of them are on slightly better terms, it isn’t like Roman will fall in line just because everyone else says he should.

…except he will.

Janus takes another sip of his tea and closes his eyes.

Roman…oh, Roman, what have we done to you?

As much as Patton appears to be the most selfless of all of them, he knows it’s Roman who shoves his own wants and needs down so far it looks as if everything he does for them is his own desires.

Which is why he’s certain he’s missing something.

Janus furrows his brow, thinking.

Roman is hurt. Remus is angry. They leave. When they return, Remus is less angry and Roman is less hurt. They must be helping each other, but why would Remus being less angry mean Roman is less hurt?

Is Remus angry because Roman is hurt?

But then why would they fight so much all the time? By all accounts, they don’t like each other. They argue and fight the loudest out of any of them, they are created to be the opposite sides of the same coin, destined to never meet in the middle.

Janus shakes his head and opens his eyes.

He’s getting distracted. He needs to focus.

He gets to his feet and fetches a notebook, scribbling something down. In order to proceed with his plan, he needs to get Roman on his side. In order to do that, he needs to make it up to him after all he’s done to hurt him. And in order to do that, he needs to understand why Roman is screaming at himself almost every time he sees him.

Then he can get back to work.

———

Remus shoves him into a bear trap as soon as the meeting is over.

“Remus!” Janus struggles to get up but Remus sits on his chest. “What are you doing? Let me up!”

“Why were you staring at Roman?”

Janus blinks, looking up to see Remus’s face is entirely serious. “What?”

“You were staring at Roman the whole meeting.” Remus doesn’t blink for ten seconds, twenty seconds, thirty seconds. “Why were you staring at him?”

“Perhaps I suddenly realized how attractive he is,” Janus hisses, “why did you shove me into a bear trap?”

“Because you were staring at Roman and you only ever stare at Roman when you think it’s going to get you something.”

When did Remus get so perceptive?

“I’ll ask you again,” and oh, dear, Remus’s voice is getting colder, that’s not good, “why were you staring at Roman?”

The truth twists painfully around his tongue and he sighs. “Because of what I could hear.”

Remus waits. When it’s clear that isn’t enough to get Janus out of the bear trap, he sighs again.

“Do you know what Roman was saying to himself for that whole meeting?”

Remus shakes his head.

“He was repeating the words ‘no, bad, shut up, wrong, be passive.’ Over and over and over. Every time he almost opened his mouth, he’d say it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, Remus,” he snaps, “maybe that’s why I was staring at him, to try and figure it out.”

“Why?”

“I just said—“

“No,” Remus says sharply, cutting him off, “why do you care?”

Janus stares up at him, mouth open. Gone is the manic glee from Remus’s normal expression, gone are the lilts and slides of his voice. Instead, he stares down at him with the most stoic expression he’s ever seen.

“Why do you care about Roman,” Remus repeats, the bear trap still digging into Janus’s leg, “and why should I believe you?”

Unbidden, he scoffs. “What is this, an interrogation?”

“Yes.”

“Remus, this is ridiculous, let me go—“

“You are in a position to seriously hurt my brother and I’m not going to let you,” Remus interrupts, “so yes. This is an interrogation. Now tell me why you care.”

Janus’s eyes widen.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Slowly, so, so slowly, slow enough that Remus could reach out and stop him, he takes off his gloves. Remus watches him closely until his hands are laid flat by his head.

“I want to help,” he manages, “I just want to help.”

Remus nods. “Why?”

“…is that not enough?”

Remus leans his weight harder on the bear trap and Janus winces.

“I haven’t apologized,” he manages, “and I…I want to.”

“So why not just apologize?”

“Because he won’t believe me.”

“Mm. I don’t see why he should.”

“I’m trying,” Janus hisses, “I am, but I know that even if he does believe me, that won’t fix it!”

Remus tilts his head. “Fix what?”

Janus closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Remus waits. Finally, he opens his eyes again.

“I’ve hurt Roman,” he says carefully, “very badly. I…continue to hurt Roman because it’s what I know how to do.”

Remus nods. Janus swallows the defense that springs to his tongue and continues.

“But I don’t want to hurt Roman. I don’t want to hurt Thomas’s Ego. I don’t want to hurt Thomas.”

“So that’s why you think you can do that by not hurting Roman?”

Janus groans in frustration. “No, I…I…”

Why is the truth so hard?

“Roman is hurting and I want to fix it because it feels bad,” he manages eventually.

“So you feel guilty about how badly you’ve hurt Roman and you want to make him feel better so you’ll stop hurting?”

Janus flinches but doesn’t deny it. Remus just hums. Janus shifts. “That’s not the only reason.”

“No?” Janus shakes his head. “Then what else?”

“No one else is doing it.”

Remus frowns. “Huh?”

“No one else is helping him,” Janus blurts out, glaring up at Remus, “no one else is doing a damn thing! I can feel it every time he lies and he’s hurt, Remus! And they’re not doing anything about it!”

Remus raises an eyebrow at the outburst, but doesn’t disagree. Janus pants, trying to pry himself from the bear trap again when Remus reaches out and rests a hand on his head.

“…Remus?”

“Did you know that no one would help him?”

“What?”

“When you hurt him,” Remus repeats, “did you do it because you knew no one would help him?”

Janus’s heart clenches. Remus glares down at him.

“Because to me, that sounds like you trying to fix a problem that you made while knowing full well it’ll make Roman grow dependent on you because he thinks you care.”

“Maybe I do,” Janus snarls, surging up to meet him, “maybe you don’t get the monopoly on caring about Roman just because the others don’t seem to want to try. And maybe you should get off your high horse about it because I do care.”

Silence.

Then Remus slowly smiles. “There you are.”

“Was that really necessary?”

“When it comes to you? Yes.”

“Does that mean you’ll help me out of this bear trap now?”

“No—“

“Remus!”

“—but I will give you something else.”

Janus stills, looking up at him. “What?”

“RSD.”

“RS what?”

“RSD. Look it up.” He stands. “Then watch Roman next time.”

He sinks out as Janus starts to struggle out of the bear trap, wondering what on earth Remus could be talking about and what it has to do with Roman.

———

No, bad, shut up, wrong, be passive.

“I’m just saying, I don’t understand why we’re going with this plot.”

No, bad, shut up, wrong, be passive.

“It seems a bit derivative, I agree. Perhaps another draft would be better.”

No, bad, shut up, wrong, be passive.

“There’s nothing here that’s really original, kiddo. Isn’t this just what we did last time?”

No, bad, shut up, wrong, be passive.

“I don’t see what the point is of doing a video that we’ve done before.”

“Well, Q&A’s are a staple of content. It’s a good way to update the fanbase on the progress of the characters and the world in a format that’s familiar.”

Why did you say something? Haven’t you learned to keep your mouth shut?

“If they need to be updated in such a clumsy way, perhaps they haven’t been paying enough attention.”

“That’s…kinda belittling, isn’t it?”

“Quite. If they need to be spoon-fed information, then we shouldn’t encourage their lack of media literacy.”

Just be quiet. Be quiet, shut up, be passive—

“Aren’t you the one who said they wouldn’t feel belittled if we treated their time as valuable?”

“That was in an entirely different context, though I’m not surprised you got them confused. That was in reference to releasing content in a timely fashion, not about insulting their comprehension abilities.”

Shut up, shut up, just shut up and stay quiet—

“But Q&A’s offer a unique insight that isn’t offered in the main story episodes, it’s a way to tie up loose ends, answer some lingering questions—“

“I’d hope so, it is called a ‘questions and answers,’ isn’t it?”

“And it can’t be that unique, kiddo, we’ve done them before.”

“That does speak more to your skills as a storyteller, then, if such explicit and direct answers addressing the audience directly are required.”

Bad, bad, bad, bad. Wrong. Shut up. Be passive.

Roman swallows and nods. If he just stays quiet, he can tune this out and it’ll be over and he can run back to his room and he’ll be fine. Just stay quiet. Just don’t say anything else.

But they keep being wrong about why he wants to do this idea and if he can just explain—

No. He just makes everything worse when he tries to explain it. He just needs to shut up and stay quiet and everything will be fine.

But if he can just—

No. No. Be quiet.

His hands hurt.

Good. Focus on that instead. Just don’t say anything else.

Now his wrists are hurting too.

Just let them lie by the side, no one’s looking at them anyway, they don’t need to move right now. Just let them hurt and shut up and be passive. It’ll be over quicker.

It hurts.

The others’ voices are getting quieter. Almost there.

It really hurts.

No bruises, remember? No bruises. They can’t see what they’re doing is hurting. Then that makes everything worse. Just be quiet and let it hurt quietly and don’t be a bother.

…

…ow.

“Well, I think that’s as good as we’re going to get today.”

Roman blinks. How long has it been? What’s happened?

“Roman, does that work for you?”

He nods, without knowing what it is he agreed to, and stretches a smile across his face. Logan nods.

“Good. Then we’re agreed.”

Patton sighs. “Gosh, that was a tough one!”

“I’ll say,” Virgil mutters, “but at least we got to a conclusion.”

“Roman, do you think you could have the list of movies drawn up for tonight as well?”

“I’ll do it,” Remus says quickly, “it’s my week anyway.”

“Oh,” Logan says, “that works too. Shall we go over the trigger list now?”

Remus glances at him and Roman nods, quickly.

“Sure.”

The two of them sink out as Patton and Virgil head toward the kitchen. He can go now. He doesn’t have to stay here. He can go to his room and he’ll be fine.

…why can’t he move?

His hands hurt, his arms hurt, he—he needs to move, he doesn’t want to be here anymore, he—

“Roman,” comes another voice, “will you come sit with me while we wait for dinner?”

He’s nodding before he has the chance to realize what’s going on. His body moves on autopilot, going over to the couch and sitting down. Only when the other person sits next to him does he realize it’s Janus.

Oh.

Oh, dear.

Okay, no, he can do this. Just be quiet, don’t move, don’t say anything.

Movement. He looks down to see one of Janus’s hands reaching for his. The yellow of the glove hovers over where his left hand lies limply in his lap.

“Can I borrow this?”

He nods warily, turning his head to watch Janus carefully pick up his hand and move it to his lap. One hand cups Roman’s limp one as Janus runs his fingers over Roman’s palm. The touch burns, the lingering hurt sparking in its wake. He inhales sharply as Janus begins to…to…

Why is Janus massaging his hand? Why is he cradling it in his lap like it’s something precious? Why…what’s going on?

Janus looks up at him after a few moments, still rubbing his thumb along Roman’s hand. Roman looks back at him, hopelessly confused, only to blink at the open concern on Janus’s face.

“It hurts,” Janus murmurs, only for Roman’s ears, “doesn’t it?”

Roman nods. Janus lets out a soft noise, cupping Roman’s hand between his.

“Does this help?”

Another nod, warier this time, only for Janus to smile gently and continue his ministrations. The fabric of the gloves is a little rough, tingling along Roman’s palm but it…it doesn’t hurt. The cold pain still aches in his fingers but as Janus works patiently, it starts to fade.

Janus keeps his eyes on him, noting where he twitches and sighs and when his shoulders tense and relax. When a light trace of fingers across his palm makes him flinch, he quirks an eyebrow.

“Ticklish?” At Roman’s nod, he switches tactics, covering Roman’s hand with his and rubbing firmly with his thumb. “Better?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

They stay like that, Janus caring for Roman’s useless hand and Roman growing hopelessly confused until Patton and Virgil call them for dinner. Janus gets up first, offering Roman’s hand one last squeeze before they make their way to the table. Roman looks down at his hand and carefully tries to move it.

It responds.

He hastens to the table and sits, Remus on his left, Janus on his right, riding the quiet exhilaration that his hand will actually move and respond to him. Sure, it’s just one, but that means he can eat.

When the food is served and a low hubbub of conversation starts, there’s another flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He looks down to see Janus’s second pair of hands reaching for his other hand.

“May I,” Janus asks softly, too softly to be heard over the chatter, “borrow this one too?”

Roman takes a deep breath and nods.

Janus smiles and takes his hand into his lap where a hidden pair of hands proceed to care for it, safely hidden under the table. Roman does his best to focus on the meal, eating with his good hand as his bad lingers in Janus’s hold.

Slowly, so slowly, the cold pit begins to retreat. Aches still linger in his wrists, under his throat, but as he eats, his chest grows lighter. The world begins to fade back in around him, anchored by the gentle touch on his limp and aching hand.

In the midst of this, he doesn’t notice the look Janus and Remus exchange, nor does he see how protectively Janus guards the hand in his lap.

Instead, Roman eats and allows himself to be selfish, just this once.

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees @meltheromanstan @joyrose-fandomer @insanitori @mavenmush @justablah65

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders

99 notes · View notes

blue-kyber · 10 months

Text

I'm looking for another job at a different restaurant.

In one application, they ask why I left my current job (which I haven't. I'm still there until I can get another job).

This is what I wanted to say:

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

I was forced to sign a warning accepting responsibility for something I didn't do. I was told - and I quote, "I'm sorry, but your best isn't good enough." I'd worked there for two years without an issue like this. They said accepting responsibility for something I didn't do builds characters. Which it doesn't. I've done that all my life, and all it did was harm my mental health and turn me into a doormat once others found out I wouldn't fight back out of fear and hypersensitivity. Then they said I was lucky they didn't take the mistake out of my paycheck - which they are not allowed to do by law and had no right to threaten me with that in order to gaslight me think they were doing me a favor. I know my rights. I saw right through it. They also tried to gaslight me into believe I was the one at fault. I refused. That only angered me more, and them, since their attempts failed. I couldn't leave that table until I signed it despite pleading my case. I am a sensitive person with RSD (rejections sensitivity dysphoria), so I had difficulty arguing my case due to my history of being a whipping boy, and my effort going into staying strong. I cried later, and felt raw and beaten for the next few days.

This is 100% not the first time this has ever happened. Yet I get up, and keep going like nothing happened. They know I am an ADHD autistic person. They know I work my hardest at giving my customers a good experience while facing more problems than a neurotypical person. They know I am managing it through medication and CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy). I always get my work done with little to no accommodation (like taking a few minutes from sensory overload, or having understanding that some things are just harder for me to process. What they did do was let me keep my silent fidget toy, and agreed to letting me work 4 days instead of 5 so I have time to recover for the next week.) Battling an overload, burnout, or shutdown, or all-of-thee-above simultaneously and still mask takes a large amount of energy. But I still do my job with a smile and give my best customer service. Both of what I struggle with daily are state recognized disabilities. I can support myself, but it's harder for me. It's very energy draining to constantly mask, which is why I can only work 4 days a week - by my doctor's recommendation to help avoid burnout and meltdowns/shutdowns. To be told "Your best isn't good enough" invalidates the hard work and effort I put in to doing my job. It shows me that they don't care. Someone's best changes from day to day. I am a firm believer that there's always room to learn and grow, and take opportunities to go above and beyond to give my customers a good experience. What that warning and statement said to me is that they don't believe I understand these concepts. Being ADHD and autistic doesn't automatically make me an idiot with no ability to reason or conceptualize. I can't work for someone willing to throw away my two years of accomplishments in favor of one customer having an issue that they aggressively blamed on me to avoid admitting they were wrong. Since it's my word against the customer's, and my employer believes in the outdated and incorrect 'the customer is always right' rule, I - an employee they know and trust, with no record of delinquency, who has never lied about what happens at work, and admits when I did make a mistake, and works to avoid repeating that mistake - was forced to take the fall without an iota of understanding.

I am not a problem employee. I actively avoid causing drama. That negativity literally hurts me. If someone else is getting reprimanded in front of me, I feel it. I stay away from it. I work to keep the environment either neutral or positive.

I was punished by way of having my tables limited to 4 for 3 weeks, two 5 hour shifts switched out for 3 hour shifts, and one 6 hour shift switch to a 3 hour shift. In the 6 hour-turned-3-hour, I was taken off server duty and delegated to handle to-go orders. (they gave me 2 tables, which my coworker tries to seat people at, but you know customers - they will sit wherever they want). All of these changes heavily affected my finances, and now I'm struggling just to make rent. As of last week, they began alternating sections for the servers. I won't be surprised if they say they'd always done that, and I'd been assigned to one section that whole time. Before this incident, my coworker and I swapped off every other table to make it as fair as possible, and would offer tables if the other was lacking. Immediately after I had to take the fall, I was confined to one section. I wasn't even allowed to help my coworker when they had to handle two busy sections on their own - which was not only unfair to me, but unfair to them, and the customers. They got a frantic server while I had 4 tables, and all I could do to help was run food, make drinks, and get supplies ready so my coworker wouldn't have to take extra time for that.

If they had written me up and left it at that, I'd be mad about being wrongly accused, but I would have eventually let it go. A coworker said this happens to other servers there, too - it happened to them - and to just accept it. And I would have had they not added on that punishment. Adding that punishment is what pushed me to look for new work. It's very sad, because I honestly do enjoy working there. I love the crew, the food is delicious, and the customers are cool. I love my regulars. But I can't work for a company that forces their employees to take the blame for something they didn't do, and sabotages their employees' income as a punishment.

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

It may be a little long winded. But hey, they asked. And my neurodivergent ass gave them the exact reason.

#service industry #restaurant work #server #work problems #life #ADHD #autism #hardships in the workplace #What do you guys think? Too much? How can I condense it to remain concise #and still give the full picture.#See what I mean when I say it's hard for me to write short stories? :)

8 notes · View notes

allhappyandgay · 1 year

Text

it may just be the autism but am I the only one who doesn’t think it’s as selfless to lie to someone seemingly for their benefit at the cost of yr own feelings/wants as people say it is? obviously will wants mike and eleven to be happy (even though they actually don’t want to be together) and mike wants eleven to be happy, so they both lie in order to give the other what they think they want… only resulting in miscommunication misunderstanding and confusion, but being honest and open about what you want and how you feel with yr friends is more likely to bring you closer together and prevent such complicated situations like this in the first place! like yeah they have good reasons for why they lie (for tv show characters, anyway) but the amount of people saying will and mike are so selfless for ‘sacrificing their happiness’ for someone else’s (will for mike and mike for el) like… they’re freshmen in high school what do they plan on sacrificing their happiness for each other for the rest of their lives while they’re all actually miserable??? lol got a little off track there but I like what I wrote

(of course I say this as an emotionally unavailable chronic people pleaser with major rsd who’s always lied to his friends to protect himself and questions the authenticity of all of his relationship’s constantly ha ha ha what)

all i’m saying is Im aware of how selfish it can actually be to hide how you really feel from people, sometimes you think yr doing something nice when really you’re just trying to protect yourself from any kind of harm. not saying that’s what mike and will are doing but I don’t agree that it’s a selfless act exactly

and I know there’s multiple layers to the monologue, mike was trying to save el and tried to say anything that might help her in the moment. but he (imo) also felt rejected by will after encouraging his speech, and until that point (imo) he had accepted his feelings toward him and also had an idea will felt the same and he was planning on mutually breaking up with el. then he backtracked and told el he loved her, which, I don’t know what he expected to happen after that, that they’d live “happily” ever after? seems more like he felt he had to decide between el and will. el being that he’d hide his feelings forever and stay with her because will didn’t love him back, and choosing will meaning being honest (and happy) with himself, and breaking up with el (the right thing to do). so I think there was at least a hint of self preservation in that monologue. especially since he didn’t do anything about el mostly ignoring him after. he barely seemed to care!

(I also am not at all saying that being in the closet is selfish and that protecting yourself by not coming out is bad, Im saying that mike knowingly using el as a beard is wrong (if that is in fact what he was doing), he can be closeted and keep el out of it)

if mike just told will how he felt even though it’s fucking terrifying, will would know that he doesn’t actually love el and his feelings are reciprocated. then he would stop trying to fix el and mikes relationship and el could be happy as well because she would no longer be being lied to and she could finally be independent and find herself. maybe the way things got left in hawkins in s4 with smoke everywhere and the ground opening up and eleven being hurt by what was said was—as well as to show that mikes monologue didn’t work—a way of showing that what will and mike are doing is making things worse for not only themselves internally but the people around them? and that it isn’t such a selfless act but also a harmful one?

#I dunno I could be talking out of my ass lol #but this is coming from someone who has been in this exact situation #I have 0 life experience but sooo much juicy advice I don’t follow #byler analysis #byler #mikes monologue

14 notes · View notes

portpebble · 2 years

Note

Argooo

My overall opinion on the character: The og. The blueprint. The man, the myth, the legend. You go into the Pebble Encyclopedia and look up the definition of "blorbo" and there he is, in all his glory, Argonaut Keene, the one and only. Thank you for changing my life "I'm literally afraid of catching scurvy at random intervals"

One virtue they have: This man is. SO loyal. To his family and to his friends and to every person he meets. He's so willing to just put himself out there and wear his heart on his sleeve and protect those he cares out no matter what. You give him a single compliment and you see an achievement that says "Argo Keene will now die for you". He learns someone is being an ass to his friends and goes "What me to kill that guy for you?".

One flaw they have: Complete inability to Talk About His Feelings. From the very beginning he's brushing things off that very clearly hurt him and saying it doesn't matter and yeah it's fine if you ignore him it's really fine (GRABS HIM) KING. IT'S NOT FINE. HAVE A CONVERSATION. He's so used to being on his own his whole life that now he has people he can reach out to he just Doesn't.

Favorite moment from their arc: Him reading the book to Fitzroy while he was cursed FUCK man, god. God. And also the entire trial of the Commodore, the absolute vindication I get from seeing him finally stand up for himself and be stood up for too AAAAUUUUGHHHH

Least favorite moment from their arc: I will admit I never finished the podcast but I wish they did more with Grey being in his head and making his RSD go Demon Mode. Cause even with Fitzroy botting him outta there, those thoughts aren't going to go away. There is so much potential there. Give me Argo: Fucked Up Edition.

One relationship they have with another character: Argo and Shebrie will always be everything to me (punches a hole through the wall). All they had was each other man and she cared so much about him and she was such a good parent and she wanted nothing more than for him to have a good life and to be taken care of AUGH. And he misses her with every fiber of his being and is locked in a perpetual state of grief because he never got closure, it was always about revenge and he dedicated his whole existence to getting that for her but all she wants is for him to be HAPPY AND AND AND. AND THEN the quest for revenge leads him to Fitzroy and the Firbolg and he DOES get to be happy and loved again and mnfjghfksm.,a,ms,

One relationship I'd like to see explored from this character: Can Rainer and him be friends. Please. Please. I think having a girlbestie could fix him. And also I just want more Rainer. Rainer my everything.

What I would have liked to see happen with them in the media: Again didn't finish the podcast but I think it would be interesting to explore like. Just because he's killed the Commodore and gotten his revenge doesn't mean all his problems are fixed. Cause he's left with What Now. And revenge isn't going to magically make his grief or his trauma or the FUCKING RSD go away. Basically what I'm saying is that one thing I would have liked to see happen with him is him going the fuck to therapy.

#I MISS HIM EVERY DAY #taz graduation #argo keene #asks for em #pebbles pals

29 notes · View notes

skewbforty · 11 months

Text

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.

I just wish my father didn't hate me for not being an extremist left wing. I went through a period where I was so sick of being the only centralist I knew besides my gf, that I was begging people to give me advice on how to not be a centralist anymore. It's the loneliest shit. Thing about being me is that I don't want to get triggered every time I see misandry, and trust me, nowadays on the internet... There's plenty of it. But I hate transphobia too, I think it's disgusting. We're just trying to be happy in a world that for the most part doesn't care about us. After a while you start to think... "I have stopped caring about right or wrong. I just want to be happy. And if getting high on saying "toxic masculinity" will help me with that then so be it."

So here's me, begging people to make me woke so I can be accepted in this hideously unbalanced society. Pretty all of them said "You can't, don't try to be someone you're not. That's not the way to happiness." So all I can really do is accept that... Well not that everyone hates me, but that everyone WOULD hate me if they got to know me. And all this while I suffer from RSD. There's a reason I'm terrified of making friends.

My father tho? Just ranted at me about how we live in a patriarchy and gave me really useless advice on how to change. He doesn't care about my happiness. He just wants me to change to fit his agenda. He cares more about that me, that much is obvious.

And it's not like I can just find like-minded people. I've searched pretty much since I've been on the internet, every cry for help resulting in me getting bullied and stalked by TERFs.

I'm not tagging this post because I can't risk that happening again, but to anyone reading this who's actually level headed enough to see where I'm coming from here without getting blinded by rage... Do you know a way out of this mess for me? I'm kinda at my wits end. Have been for 8 years.

4 notes · View notes

re-roo-ting · 2 years

Text

I want to say this here because I don’t see people talk about the positive things that can happen and how things can change. Also everyone is different and this is just my story. Not the whole thing just the parts that might help someone.

I’m diagnosed with major depression disorder, generalized anxiety disorder and ADHD.

TW: Talks of depression, panic attacks, and adhd struggles

To know the good you have to know just how bad things were first. Before any medication or any professional help, and before I was out of the house I grew up in, I suffered from bad depression. My parents didn’t care much about school and so there were months where I would miss at least one day a week for every week, sometimes more. And I would spend those days laying in bed, often just crying, and being upset without a reason I could find. Aside from my depression I deal with a lot of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD), and found myself constantly feeling unwanted and out of place. I would go through spells of intense motivation and hyper focus followed by days not doing anything and feeling so bored that my brain hurts and feels like its rotting. My thoughts would race so fast and feel so loud, They weren’t always nice either and there were repetitive and would latch on to ideas heard by other people. I would loose my school work, and organization was never easy. My room looked like a dump. Then I would get upset with myself for letting that happen, and give into this idea that I was lazy. Panic attacks were another issue I would deal with. I’m a paranoid person, and this paired with my race thoughts led to me being regularly overwhelmed. I was having up to four panic attacks a week when I was at my worst. And they left me feeling drained causing more issues with motivation, and more self loathing.

Right now things are not perfect. I’m readjusting to meds, and I still have bad days. I go through the same things sometimes, and get overwhelmed a lot. But I’ve learned how to cope. I’m trying to be healthy, and improve my self image. I write in my journal a lot and use art and writing, and other forms of creativity to help with my feelings. I talk to people about how I’m feeling and Have improve a lot with communicate and boundaries though I'm still not where I need to be. Most days aren’t happy days, but some are, and most days aren’t sad days either. I still get overwhelmed and I haven’t figured out to avoid burn out from school yet each semester but I can learn to cope. I’m productive, I have a lot of hobbies that I like and don’t feel obligated to perform. I can be relaxed, and I go days sometimes without feeling super sad or guilty. I enjoy school more, and can meet with friends sometimes daily during school. Being outside doesn’t feel like a chore as much, and I enjoy just sitting outside sometimes. I can be proud of my work and honestly often am. I’m surprised by how well I write sometimes, and am shocked that I can draw at all (Adderall helps me to be able to focus on what I’m doing I think), I also have found there are times where I like how I look. Which is crazy, especially because I feel with dysphoria, and have struggled with an ED for years now (also I have a bad hair cut rn and still enjoy my looks sometimes.) I don’t have panic attacks really anymore and if I do they I have tools to help me through them sometimes. I don’t always remember to use them, and can feel guilty asking for help but it’s things I’m working on.

Things do get better, it takes work and patience and nothing is linear and you can’t expect perfection. I’m walking living proof that things can and will get better, even if only slightly. You don’t need to feel hopeless, I was in the same place, and things do get better.

#hope #inspiration #depression #anxious #adhd #comfort #anxeity

3 notes · View notes

lady-laureline · 3 days

Text

On today's episode: how trauma1 fuels cognitive dissonance, specifically when healing from withdrawal.

The emergency tactics of the human brain are effective methods of self-preservation as well as spectacular exercises in self-sabotage.

Take stress: the ability to enter 'fight or flight' at the blink of an eye is an outdated function, working as intended. Modern threats to our survival are much more tangential than your friendly neighbourhood sabertooth tiger, but the nervous system still responds to due rent as it would to a predator.

Social withdrawal as a trauma response has aged a bit better - creating a buffer between us and the people that hurt us still serves to give us time to lick our wounds without the risk of reopening them - but there are significant downsides to keeping your distance for longer periods of time (including but not limited to: depression, heart problems, existential torment2, a shortened lifespan).

In pervasive situations, the detrimental effects of isolation have to be weighed against whatever drove us there in the first place. Both can be incredibly harmful to our sense of community and sense of self, and if we are repeatedly cycling back and forth between opening up and drawing back, the two sides might feed into each other to create a merciless self-fulfilling prophecy.

Each failed attempt to reintegrate - every time you were a little too bold or let your guard down a little too soon - justifies and perpetuates the (real or imagined) inadequacy that others us from the rest of the group. Trauma knows better, why didn't you listen to it? Why would this time be any different?

If you're wondering if there's a name for this, the answer is yes. Rejection-sensitive dysphoria (or RSD3) is characteristic of neurotypes that commonly experience social rejection at a young age, fine-tuning our perception of exactly that to a painfully counterproductive degree.

In previous posts, I've talked about how growing up undiagnosed is permeated by a constant feeling of being in the wrong - RSD kindly provides a "better safe than sorry" approach to the fallout of whatever it is we've said or done this time.

It should come as no surprise that developing self-compassion (arguably our greatest asset in caring for our mental health) is a rather grueling task for this subgroup of society. After all, compassion isn't that readily offered to us - especially the kind that comes from a place of understanding.

Coming out of isolation signals the end of a metamorphosis that, if we've managed to unlearn a bit of fearful perfectionism, may involve having a few new boundaries in place, perhaps a pinky promise with yourself to do whatever it takes to show up authentically in some way.

This is where the cognitive dissonance comes in, because now that you're going out and talking to people again, there is a raging battle going on in your head. Inside of you there are four wolves:

- one that's determined to find some genuine connection and is ready to meet people halfway;

- one that would rather pretend to be a papillon than risk ever getting hurt again;

- one that is convinced you are entirely undeserving of anyone's time and should go rot in a hole;

- and one that's angry at having to isolate, angry at having to do the work, and very fucking angry at having to wheedle your way back into people's lives for the sake of your stupid mental health.

Overthinking minute interactions is difficult to avoid when you've done nothing but think for the foreseeable past, and now you've got all these built-up feelings grappling with each other while you're trying to remember how socialising works.

Also, people are generally more well-meaning than they are frank, and if you're not tuned into the non-verbal gestures station you are at quite the disadvantage in determining what sort of impression of you people are left with, something that scares me more than I'd like to admit.

Still, what can a girl do but try?

Whether we've given up on it or not, connection is our north star in this whole mess or a journey. We cannot ignore the pull to be seen (even those of us who hate being perceived) for who we are.

×××

1 Terminology side note: when I say "trauma", I'm using the clinical definition.

2 Turns out that isolating really puts you in touch with your own mortality (and I thought I was just being extra).

3 Some say it's a form of CPTSD.

#ramblepost #trauma and cognitive dissonance #existential torment #social withdrawal #brain tactics #quick mafs #neurodivergent #rejection sensitive dysphoria #rsd #it sounds nicer in polish

1 note · View note

asexual-spongebob · 2 months

Text

The Waves That Lap The Shore - Chapter 21 - Welcome to the fish club, Paani.

Chapter 21 - The things that come with being a fish

“Um… Mateys…” Kwazii stumbled as he entered Peso’s room, only see Shellington in his socks, sweat pants and a hoodie, holding a sleeping Peso in his arms and nuzzling it’s head.

Kwazii had Shellington’s full attention.

“We have a bit of a problem…” Kwazii began

“Paani went to the active moon pool..” Kwazii continued, Peso jolted up “THEY WHAT-“ Peso gasped, Kwazii nodded. ”We should welcome him to the fish people club!” Shellington smiled “oh yeah we should add her to the fish dudes group chat!” Peso added “y-yeah” Kwazii said hesitantly.

Fuck. God damn it. Me boyfriend’s a fish now- and it’s all my fault… Fuck. Now they’re gonna have to think “please no tail” every time they get in the water so they won’t turn into a fish.

And he’ll have to deal with being possessed by the moon and shit. Kwazii thought to himself as he left the room, he needed to process this.

What will Captain think? Kwazii asked himself.

I guess I’ll tell Captain… Kwazii decided, nervously walking to the HQ.

“Cap.. I can I talk you… alone?” Kwazii asked, awkwardly. “Yeah sure!” Captain Barnacles said, Kwazii guided Barnacles to his room.

Kwazii sat on their bed.

“Um. I genuinely have no idea how to put this but… Paani is a fish now. He went to Mako Island during while the Moon pool was active… I couldn’t stop them. It was too late. I when I found her, she was in the pool chillin’ with out a care in the world. I’ll have to tell him later…” Kwazii explained. “You should welcome him to the fish club!” Barnacles smiled “I know.. I’m just a bit nervous I guess..” Kwazii sighed.

“Why?” Barnacles asked “I’m not sure.. it’s just a lot for me guess.. these past months have been.. a bit of rollercoaster I suppose…” Kwazii began “first, Shellington became a merman, then he got moonstruck, then me and Peso became mermen, then I saved Paani from drowning, then I met Paani again, then me and him became close… then we fell in love, then I had a bad RSD episode and now this…” Kwazii continued “it’s just there’s been a lot stuff going on.” Kwazii finished.

Barnacles knew what it was like to be in Kwazii’s position, he had listened carefully what Kwazii had said.

“It’s okay to be overwhelmed, this is definitely a lot to handle.” Barnacles began, he had chosen his words carefully. “But I know that we will get through this.” He continued.

You will get through this. It’ll all be okay in the end.

Those words hit Kwazii like a brick.

Kwazii thanked Barnacles before he left.

However. Kwazii still had one thing on his mind.

How in the name of the seven seas was he I supposed to explain to Paani that he’s a fish now???

Kwazii went downstairs to get itself some breakfast. Hoping it’d help him feel less uneasy.

However, It started to think of the positives.

Ye know what… maybe Paani being a fish wouldn’t be so bad… then I could show him all my favorite shipwrecks.. and all the coral reefs.. and we vibe in the moon pool together… and swim together… That sounds really nice actually. Kwazii thought, a smile appearing on its face.

•••

Paani was at a lake, he’d just finished getting his hydrology log.

“Time for a swim.” Paani decided, putting on his Spotify playlist, taking off his jacket and shoes, running into the water, the texture of wet sand and pebbles on his feet.

Stacy's mom has got it goin' on

Stacy, can I come over after school?

We can hang around by the pool.

Did your mom get back from her business trip?

Is she there, or is she trying to give me the slip?

Blared from Paani’s Octowatch,

as they swam to deeper water, relaxing. Until they felt a strange sensation come over them.

Paani looked down at their feet. To her shock she had fins. Like a fish. Just like his boyfriend Kwazii.

Where did it all go wrong? Paani asked himself.

Wait a fucking minute.

That pool at Mako! It must have turned me! No wonder Kwazii had that “oh shit” look on his face!

Paani had connected the dots. This happened because of Mako Island.

Paani grabbed his Octowatch (which was, now on one her fins.) and paused the music. She frantically looked for Kwazii in her contacts.

Paani smashed his fingers against the tiny keyboard

Paani:

HEY UM. SOMETHING HAPPENED-

Kwazii-the-pirate-cat:

OH NO WHAT?

Paani:

IM A FISH!!!

Kwazii-the-pirate-cat

OH- YEAH I MEANT 2 TELL U THAT EARLIER MATEY- sorry abt that I just forgot 😭

Paani:

Oh- cool- um- see you soon?

Kwazii-the-pirate-cat:

Yeah Matey. I’ll drag Peso and Shellie with me.

Paani:

👍

•••

Shellington was in the Launch Bay tank swimming, this reminded him of old times. Peso came the Octo-Chute “Hey Shellfish!” Peso said affectionately, “Hi pumpkin” Shellington purred, placing a conch shell and some tarnished coins on the ledge “I found this… I thought you’d think was cool.” Shellington smiled “thank you” Peso replied, stashing them into the pocket of its shirt.

“I’m gonna go swim some more, wanna join?” Shellington asked “Sure” Peso replied.

I’ll find something for him in return! Peso decided after getting into the Launch Bay tank.

Peso grabbed Shellington’s paw as they swam out the Octo-Hatch together, giving each other affectionate looks as they headed towards the moon pool.

Shellington and Peso resurfaced together “where’s Kwazii and Paani?” Peso asked “They said they’d be here soon.” Shellington said, as he snacked on some fish biscuits the vegimals had baked in the morning. “Want some?” Shellington offered “sure!” Peso smiled, snatching it right out of Shellington’s paw.

Shellington had a surprised look on his face, but he remembered that he had eaten half a sandwich in one bite before. He shouldn’t surprised.

Peso had finished it. “Thanks!” He said, brushing some crumbs off his face “your welcome” Shellington smiled.

Peso pulled his phone out and started blasting Beyoncé, it and Shellington started dancing and singing together.

Cause if you liked it then you should have put a ring on it.

If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it

Don't be mad once you see that he want it

If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it

If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it .

If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it

Don't be mad once you see that he want it

If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it.

•••

Paani was frustrated, she wanted to punch someone or something right now. She wanted to punch her mirror and see shatter in to little pieces.

He clenched his fist. Ready to punch the living shit out of that thing. However. He heard a loud booming coming from outside what was that?! Paani asked himself, turning around and unclenching his fist.

The skies were no longer gloomy. They were sunny. Paani glanced back at his hand Mako might have something to do with this. Paani figured.

Paani clenched their fist again, but this time, lightly. It started to rain.

Raindrops softly hit Paani’s windows.

Wow. I can do that? Paani thought to themself, amazed at their new ability.

Paani grabbed their phone and smashed their fingers against the keyboard.

Paani:

I’ll meet u at a sidewalk. And ill see you and the nerds @ the moon pool soon + I’m gonna show y’all something

Kwazii-the-pirate-cat:

Got it! See you then 😘

Paani: 💀/hj <3

•••

Paani waited for Kwazii at a sidewalk Kwazii pulled up in the Terra Gup 4 (which, he had driven in without Tweak’s permission.)

“Get in loser, we’re going to go swimming together.” Kwazii smirked, Paani backflipped in into the gup and started looking through their Spotify playlist.

He was trying to find the right song. Until she found the one.

Paani then started blasting Linkin Park while Kwazii was driving.

Soon, Kwazii and Paani pulled up to the beach, running on the board walk. Paani ripped off his jacket “you wear a tank top underneath your jacket?” Kwazii gasped, they had never seen Paani without her jacket on. “Yeah. I if I get to hot it feels better.” Paani explained.

Kwazii and Paani ran into the waves and disappeared into them.

Paani felt a funny sensation come over him

Bam! Fish tail!

“Damn. Your the only one of us that actually wears a shirt.” Kwazii commented, Paani laughed.

However, Kwazii started to study Paani’s tail. He noticed how colorful it was. It had shades of blues, oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples.

He was mesmerized “can you please stop staring me… we have to get going you know.” Paani told lightly “sorry-“ Kwazii said.

Kwazii grabbed Paani’s hand as they glided through the water together, they knew that Paani wasn’t exactly used to the whole… fish thing. Paani was glad he wore waterproof eyeliner today. Because if he didn’t he’d have eyeliner all over his cheeks.

Kwazii showed Paani a tunnel “this the entrance to me, Peso and Shellington’s hang out. We’ve made some good memories here” Kwazii smiled.

Kwazii and Paani could hear the sound of Beyoncé’s music “who’s blasting Beyoncé?” Paani asked, raising her eyebrow “probably Peso. It’s always blasting Beyoncé.” Kwazii meowed.

Paani and Kwazii resurfaced, they saw Peso and Shellington dancing to Beyoncé.

“HI BITCHES!!!!” Kwazii greeted, Peso and Shellington turned the music off and stopped dancing.

Peso and Shellington turned to face Kwazii and Paani.

“Welcome to the fish club!” Shellington smiled “yeah! I’ll add you to the group chat later” Peso added.

Shellington looked closely at Paani’s tail

“Oh! That’s a Japanese angelfish!” Shellington said, pointing to Paani’s tail “cool” Paani giggled, biting his lip “so what is it you need to show us?” Kwazii asked, turning to face Paani.

“This.” Paani said simply, light clenching his fist, it started to rain softly, then he clenched his fist harder, the sound thunder boomed from outside.

“I guess i can’t do fist bumps anymore-“ Paani mumbled, “but that’s fine. I prefer hand shakes and tail shakes instead.” Paani added “anyway.. I should get back home..” Paani said “can I come?” Kwazii begged, giving Paani goo goo eyes “yeah sure.” Paani agreed.

“How about we swim back to the Octopod and get Tweak to drive us to your house?” Kwazii suggested “yeah.” Paani replied.

Kwazii, Paani, Peso and Shellington swam back to the Octopod using speed swimming.

Kwazii, Peso, Shellington and Paani arrived at the Launch Bay.

They dried off, Peso and Shellington went upstairs. Paani and Kwazii waited for Tweak.

“Hi Kwaz! Hi Paani!”

“Ahoy Tweak! We were wondering if you could drive me and Paani to their house?”

“yeah sure”

Tweak, Paani and Kwazii headed to Paani’s house.

•••

Shellington and Peso went into Shellington’s lab. “Hey, I’m gonna take a nap” Peso proclaimed, flopping onto Shellington’s bed, Shellington tucked it in, “good night Peso” Shellington whispered, giving it a kiss on the forehead.

Shellington worked for some hours, he started to feel a bit sleepy, so he took what he called a “cuddle break” where he would cuddle Peso for a moment and then get back to work.

Shellington kicked off his tealish turquoise crocs and cuddled Peso for a moment, he started nuzzle his face and let out little purrs, hm… I don’t really want to get back to work… maybe I should join Peso and sleep.. Shellington thought I’ll go to bed. Shellington decided.

Shellington ripped off his shirt and lab coat and through them on the floor, he then joined Peso in bed, pulling him close, letting out soft purrs.

#kitty giggles #octonauts #shellington #the waves that lap the shore au #kwazii #peso #octonauts au #peso x shellington #paani x kwazii #kwazii x paani #octonauts kwazii

1 note · View note