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#healing. but as of right now... i think things are going to get a lot - a LOT - fucking worse before they get better (if they get better..)
loveinhawkins · 12 hours
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for the one word ficlet prompt thing!!
I'd love to see something steddie with the word "sun". not picky about how you use it and im good with whatever season you'd like! 💕🌻💘☀️
pre season 3 crossing paths in high school, my beloved ☀️💕 ao3
There’s a blind spot just on the outskirts of the school grounds, before you get to the woods: a little hill that if you sit at just the right angle, back pressed up against the grass, no-one can see you. Eddie goes there whenever he needs some peace—like now, reading alone during lunch. He can still hear the distant laughter of students floating along on the breeze, but it’s far enough away that it doesn’t intrude as he reads.
The air smells like summer’s approaching. His fingers skim through drying blades of grass; they feel almost as delicate as pressed flowers.
Despite the calm solitude, the words aren’t going in—and he knows that with the right teacher, he kinda gets Tennessee Williams, but Mr Hauser’s gone, and he was the only one who allowed Eddie free reign to go wild when reading aloud in class, every other sub since then would say he was being disruptive and… okay, that was true some of the time, but most of the time it was because it helped, damn it, gave him at least some hope of scraping a pass—
A shadow falls across Eddie’s page—it doesn’t loom in the way a teacher’s stance would, but he still jumps at the suddenness of it.
“Jesus!”
Eddie tips his head back against the hill, cranes his neck to look upside down. Squints against the sun.
It’s Steve Harrington, and he must have gym straight after lunch because he’s already changed into a T-shirt and shorts, which is an odd decision in Eddie’s opinion as a perpetual gym-ditcher, but whatever, it’s a free country… and it’s not exactly like the guy’s an eyesore.
”You trying to give me a heart attack, Harrington?”
“No,” Steve says shortly; he looks a mixture of embarrassed and… annoyed? Which would be a new personal best for Eddie, considering he’s done nothing to piss him off save for just sitting on the ground. “I didn’t know you were here, dude.”
“Yeah, that’s kinda the idea,” Eddie waves his hands in explanation, “welcome to my hiding spot.”
Steve scoffs. “Not much of a hiding spot if I found it.”
It comes out a little petty, sure, but nothing major, Eddie thinks; it’s not like Steve’s picking a fight.
“What’s up with you, man?” he asks lightly.
It’s something he’s pondered more than once over the last couple of years, in between the stress of failed tests and the same platitudes in school reports: Eddie must apply himself next year; Eddie must try harder; Eddie must…
In the background of it all was the enigma that was Steve Harrington. Eddie had found that you couldn’t not look at him, his eyes drawn to even the most fleeting impressions: walking past the lockers or driving in and out of the school parking lot. Seasons changed—whole damn years changed—and still the question remained: just what on earth is up with Steve Harrington these days?
At least now, asking the question is profoundly less upsetting than it had been last fall, when Eddie silently tracked the progression of bruises healing across Steve’s face—along with Billy Hargrove’s intimidating stare.
“Nothing, I’m just…” Steve sighs. “Didn’t wanna spend forever in the cafeteria when it’s so nice out, but… Honestly?”
“Nah, I’d prefer you lie to me,” Eddie says deadpan, and Steve snorts before sighing again; Eddie almost asks him to read some Tennessee Williams out loud, ‘cause he’s surprisingly got the dramatics for it.
Steve flops down onto the grass, lies right on his back with no concern for his precious hair. “I’m so damn bored, Munson.”
“Gosh, my heart bleeds,” Eddie says. “Puh-lease tell me how hard it is to have passed everything and literally not have a care in the world?”
Steve blinks up at him, frowning. “Shit, are you repeating again?”
He sounds earnest, and there’s something in his phrasing that means Eddie isn’t nearly as defensive as normal—maybe because it’s about repeating again rather than failing.
Eddie lifts up the script in demonstration. “Not exactly reading this for fun, dude.”
“God, I’d take that over gym right now.”
“Okay, you’re bullshitting me. You love gym, Harrington. You, like,” Eddie gestures at Steve’s get-up, “actually make an effort and everything.”
“Not when the semester’s almost over, man. We don’t even have a cover right now, so we’re just left to, like, do whatever, who gives a shit. I’m bored outta my mind.”
“Tragic,” Eddie says—gym without a teacher sounds like a dream; he’d literally just leave. “I’m weeping for you.”
Steve rolls his eyes. But it doesn’t feel like a dismissal, even when he doesn’t reply and just lies back in the grass with another sigh.
So… Eddie mulls it over. What the hell, Steve’s graduating; it’s not like they’ll cross paths after that.
“Bet you can’t run to the woods and back before the bell rings.”
Steve sits up, a gleam of interest in his eyes. He checks his watch. “The bell’s gonna ring in, like, two minutes, Munson.”
“Oh, sorry, I thought you were so bored. Well, if you’re not up to the challenge—”
“No, no,” Steve says, standing up. “I didn’t say that.” He actually gets into position like he’s on the running track, looks at Eddie expectantly.
Eddie covers his bemusement with theatrics; he mimes firing a starting pistol.
And… shit, Steve Harrington can run.
Objectively, it’s not like it’s a surprise; he wasn’t exactly bringing up the rear in the swim and basketball teams. Still, it’s one thing knowing it, another to see it up close like this.
Eddie puts his book back in his bag, watching as Steve disappears from view. Reluctantly, he edges away from the hill—if he doesn’t, he’ll risk being late for class again by the time he walks over, and… He thinks of ‘86, what has to be his third time lucky. Start as you mean to go on, and all that.
Eddie turns back to look. Sure enough, Steve comes sprinting out of the woods, racing up to the hill right as the bell rings.
“Still counts, Munson!” he calls, a little breathless.
And Eddie knows that he’s not really solved the mystery of what’s going on with Steve Harrington.
What he does know is that Steve is smiling as he raises a fist in victory, the sun turning his hair golden for just a moment; he looks utterly free—as he should be, graduation’s right around the corner.
And Eddie can’t begrudge him that.
”Inspirational,” he shouts, cupping a hand around his mouth as he walks backwards. “I’ll get John Hughes on the phone, stat.”
The bell stops. Eddie turns around before he can trip on his own feet.
He’s getting closer to the school building now, can feel the change in the air, cliques unwillingly disbanding as teachers move them on.
But as he heads to class, Eddie faintly hears evidence that the moment hasn’t been broken entirely: Steve Harrington’s laughter, drifting across on the wind.
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icyg4l · 2 days
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PAC: How to Heal Your Broken Heart
Hello beautiful people! If you are currently going through a romantic break-up, I send my love to you. 🫶 But here, I will give advice on how you can deal with your grief. I am not a therapist so if you feel like you need to contact one, I would highly encourage that you do that. If you resonate with this reading and would like a more personalized reading, please read my guidelines and message me privately so you can receive one. Without further ado, please select your pile!
Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)
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Pile One: You need to acknowledge that this was meant for you to happen! There is nothing wrong with being single, lovely. Sometimes things just don’t work out and that’s okay. Right now, it’s time for you to focus on bigger and better things without someone by your side. You could have been with your partner for years and one day things just ended. It happens. But the best for you to do right now is to get your hair and nails done. Get to know yourself as a person, not as a partner. You have so much personality, Pile One. You need to take up more space on your own. You don’t need someone to conquer the world with you. I feel like you honestly just have to get used to being by yourself so find literally anything to do by yourself. Read, go for a walk, buy yourself flowers, take yourself on dates. Spend more time making yourself the main character instead of finding ways to antagonize your ex.
Cards Used: Ace of Cups (RX), Four of Wands, Judgment, 7 of Discs, 9 of Swords, 9 of Cups.
extras: fancy dates. peach smoothie. alice in wonderland. benedict cumberbatch. “lumberyard.”
Pile Two: You got a lot of cards, which means that you need to listen up. Pile Two, when was the last time you’ve been outside with your friends? You may have spent a lot of time in isolation in your previous relationship. You don’t have to do that anymore. Your girls are waiting on you. It is best that you go to as many parties that you can find to avoid going back because you don’t need to be with a manipulative liar anymore. I would also suggest that you go to a jewelry store and go spoil yourself. The codependency in your last relationship was abnormal and it’s time that you realize it. I feel like this person took the light away from you and you’re slowly but surely gaining your power back. Your energy is similar to Pile One but I feel like the focus for you is to empower yourself. Adopt the mindset that things will work out for you. Assuming the worst possible outcome is going to work for you. You have to let yourself shine because no one is dimming your light anymore. Surround yourself with positivity and please please please make sure you’re around people that make you feel comfortable and like yourself. Right now is a crucial time for you. Treat it as such.
Cards Used: 6 of Discs, 9 of Discs, King of Discs, Princess of Wands, 8 of Wands, 4 of Cups, The Magician (RX), The Hanged Man, The World, The Emperor, Ace of Wands, 3 of Cups.
extras: “party hard.” tiger print. mr rogers. sofia the first. birthday pin. red dot.
Pile Three: I feel like this pile has to get their body in check. Have you been having physical health problems as of lately? I feel like you need to see a doctor. I am getting the image of someone with a fever getting their temperature checked. It’s almost summertime, this shouldn’t be happening! So first things first, take your Vitamin C. Once you take care of your physical health, you should affirm that everything will be okay. Expose yourself to new places, people and things. Take a getaway trip for the weekend, maybe longer. I think you should also write affirmations on post-its and put them up around your house. I feel like this pile went through a mutual break up but it still hurts. This will sound weird but you’ve been through worse so this shouldn’t break you, lol. I think that’s your spirit guides way of saying to stay optimistic about your situation. There’s an advantage in your situation. You will find more things to laugh about when it comes to your situation. Another thing that I suggest that you do is remove your ex’s energy; their clothes, pictures of them, any and everything. Get it out!
Cards Used: 4 of Discs, Temperance, Queen of Cups, Princess of Swords, 2 of Swords, 5 of Swords (RX), The Sun, 6 of Discs, The Star, Ten of Cups, Queen of Discs
extras: cameras flashing. candied yams. apples and oranges. dominoes pizza. hot flashes. quince.
Pile Four: I’m not going to lie, it may be time for you to consider taking the extra step to getting your mental health in check. If you have been feeling like ending it all, then please talk to a psychiatrist. They may prescribe you with medication. I feel like you need that extra boost. Shit feels stagnant with this group. It’s all about personal accountability with you guys. Yes, it sucks to have your heart broken but how will you fix it? How will you recover? I think you should get in touch with your family. It’s been a minute since you talked to them, hasn’t it? You might feel like they will mock you for going through it or say “I told you so” but they won’t. They’ll be angry about the fact that you were cheated on & manipulated. You were too good and too pretty for your ex, Pile Four. Any plans that you had with them are gone and it’s time to accept that. You may have a hard time moving on but it’s best that you are supported by those who have your best interest at heart. You absolutely can do it. Turn your pain into art. Make music, write poetry, draw something. Do anything to keep your energy moving and flowing. You should also get physical. I channeled Dua Lipa’s song for you as well. So get in the gym & build your physique, begin a cardio routine, just do it!!!
Cards Used: 6 of Cups, Ten of Discs, King of Wands (RX), The Empress, The Star, Death, 9 of Discs (RX), Ten of Swords, The Chariot (RX).
extras: agent of chaos. black ops. nike. “that’s not my forte.” acting. self-righteous. fake smile. eye bend.
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twinkletfout · 2 days
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Rude boy — part.4
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚
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You saw his eyes swell, the red tint came into view as tears started pooling in his eyes. He looked away for a moment to play it off. You wanted to calm him, cheer him up. Be there for him. But you knew it was not your place. But before you could say anything he stood up and made himself out of the bar.
You guessed that the girl didn't see him, too busy with having so much fun with her new man. Despite the pain that slightly eased, you got up and went outside. It looked like he was calming himself down, you were glad that he was actually keeping his cool. Just like the way you are, you really can't hold back your tongue.
“Calm down, big guy. Not a big of a deal, hm? Lets go—”
You should really think before you talk, only if you thought about this before you said it anyway.
“What if it is?” it was a whisper, a mumble before his voice raised, he shouted.
“What if it is!?—” his voice cracked, holding back the tears for a minute before he continued
“She can do whatever the hell she wants? Fuck around with random guys, like its nothing?— I didn't date her for her to do that, and I, I just wanted to win her back I.. I loved her.”
you stood your ground as his voice slightly lowered, if he finally came to realise the fact that she doesn't want him anymore by taking out his anger on you. You didn't mind actually, just the way your heart aches for him right now, something also healed at the same time. And you felt guilty for feeling like this.
He was so wasted, too drunk to speak or talk that now he is spewing some random things as he kept on drinking. You told the bartender to not give him anymore, but when he realised. He gave you one pouty face like he was a goddamn toddler. And oh my god was that cute. You never saw this side of him before, it's like you unlocked something new about him and you loved this side a lot more than his usual self. You smiled to yourself before you said that it was enough and helped him stand up. Putting his hand over your shoulders as you supported his weight so he could walk easier.
Getting in the taxi was such a pain in the ass, as you finally entered the hotel and booked a room for one, the prince was literally dozing off and you had to carry him to his room. Because of this one guy, you lost your entire freaking day. You dropped him on the couch as soon as you entered the room. “God you are too heavy” you mumbled to yourself, but you knew he wasn't listening, it was like he was waiting to lay somewhere to finally sleep. But at least a good night's sleep will get everything off of his mind.
“You better call me the next morning, im leavin’ “ you said as you opened the door. You weren't expecting him to get on his feet or for his hand to wrap around your waist as he closed the door with his other with a sound. “Don't leave” his breath graced your ear as it sent a shiver down your spine. “Stay the night” he said as you turned around to face him. His whiskey eyes are getting you the one drunk now and you couldn't deny it as you looked up at him. “With me”
He leaned in, his lips almost touching yours as he waited for your consent. ���We shouldn't—” you whispered. “One kiss won't hurt, hm?” His lips grew into a smirk as he said. “you are drunk, you nee—” you protested trying to push him back. “Please” he practically pleaded with those cerulean eyes, that was too hard for you to resist. And the hand that you used to push him back slightly lost strength and that was the sign he was looking for his lips to meet yours. Pulling your body towards him as your back hits the door that's now closed. One of his hands undid the few buttons of his own shirt before pushing your skirt upwards. He gave random kisses down your neck, your collarbone, your cheek before he started to grow more and more impatient.
“Luna…” he mumbled against your neck, that's what it all took for you to react.
Luna? Who is that?
You brought your hand to push him away as you put your skirt down.”Luna?..” you questioned, more likely to yourself. It didn't take you much time for the picture of his blondie lover to pop in your mind. You felt a strong pang in your chest as you figured things out. “Get some rest rude boy, i should get going now” you opened the door as he suprisingly retrieved you. “Dont call me that” he said before you leave. “Its Gojo.” he told you before turning his back as he flopped onto the couch.
Everything else was a blur, you got on a taxi and went to your own appartment. Maybe it was because your were holding yourself back from overflowing with tears.
A day passed with no contact of Gojo, but he did send the money more than that you said you wanted, you spent most of your time drawing and designing your new dress, it was your dream to make a dress of your own that will satisfy your thoughts about how good it needs to turn out. Even though you never spent much time with him or new him for a long time. Gojo always had to occupy in your mind and you hated him for that.
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jheselbraum · 18 hours
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It's 2024 and some of y'all are still whining about Katara being "mean" to Zuko after he joined the party like he didn't directly betray her trust and almost caused her to waste the spirit water on him instead of saving it for Aang which-- while definitely not intentional on Zuko's part since 1) Zuko didn't know that Azula was going to shoot Aang with lightning and 2) He didn't offer or expect the spirit water to be able to heal his scar-- from Katara's perspective the last time she trusted Zuko the Avatar cycle almost fucking ended. Of fucking course it's going to take her the longest to trust him again, she's right! She was the first person to trust him, and he burned that bridge!
Everyone's field trips with Zuko make the most sense for both how they happen and when they happen. Toph trusts Zuko the quickest because she can literally tell when people are lying and is also good friends with Iroh, who's like, the number one "Zuko's not evil he's just in turmoil" guy. Aang trusts Zuko next because he's a fucking air nomad pacifist who is culturally predisposed to the virtue of forgiveness. Sokka trusts Zuko after an intense and prolonged mission to rescue some POWs because Sokka is a warrior at heart and while he like Toph sees the strategic value in Aang having a firebending teacher (eventually), he needs to know how Zuko behaves while on their side before he can trust him. Like-- the change in dynamic between the air temple, when Sokka and Zuko aren't on mission and Zuko is kind of the one "in charge," he has the information Sokka wants but Zuko is the one who hesitates to give it freely and Zuko is the one who dictates how Sokka leaves the temple for the boiling rock, to when they actually get there and Zuko follows Sokka's lead and Sokka is the one calling the shots and coming up with the plans really emphasizes how Zuko works in team setting when it counts.
And Katara's field trip with Zuko has to be her revenge quest, and how Zuko acts during that quest really tells us a lot about what Zuko wants personally from that field trip which is the same thing that he wanted from the others-- jack shit.
Zuko asks Sokka about his mother's death because he wants to better understand where Katara's coming from, and from where I'm standing it's pretty obvious that he only realizes "hey hang on my years at the Fire Nation School For Little Princes might come in handy actually" and tells Katara what he now knows about the raid and who did it.
And throughout the entire episode Zuko is 110% on board with whatever Katara wants to do with that information. If she'd said at the tent "Thanks but the only revenge I want is helping Aang defeat the firelord and ending the war" then he would've just been like "ok"
Zuko makes no judgement call on Katara's use of bloodbending and he makes no judgement call on Katara's decision to spare Yon Ra and every move he makes in that episode is Zuko saying "You're right, I fucked up, and I understand where you're coming from" every move he makes is in support of Katara, she is the one in control in the situation and I think that's why Zuko brushes off Aang's call to pacifism earlier in the episode, because pacifism isn't what Katara wants in that moment.
Like that whole sequence comes from such a genuine place of caring and support from Zuko for Katara and I think the interpretation that Katara is just being Mean to Zuko for No Good Reason really cheapens one of the best episodes in the series as well as the episodes leading up to it.
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Okay I got one that's kinda funnyish: Vox has always wanted to try this experiment but Alastor has never allowed-- What would happen if someone stabbed his head with an angelic knife? Like, he changes it out his heads out all the time, so it should be fine right? The first time he told Alastor this theory he had, Alastor knocked him out for three weeks. And when he woke up, Alastor made him promise (there was a deal involved that Vox wouldn't stab himself with an angelic knife) and so He didn't bring it up again. He brings it up with Valentino eventually, and Valentino agrees with him. It should be alright, but Vox doesn't trust Val to run Voxtech incase something does happen so he puts off the experiment until he finds Velvette and she makes Overlord status. She thinks about it when he brings it up, and tells him give her a few years and then test it out.
When Velvette finally gives the okay, it's around the time Alastor's finally healed from Adam's attack (not that the Vees know that) and Valentino's actually pretty excited. He gets to do an actual science experiment! He excitedly tells Angel Dust, as he let's him go early and heads upstairs.
Vox grins as Val picks up the angelic blade, and Velvette shakes her head "Okay, ready? Go!"
Valentino slams the blade into Vox's screen, and Vox *screams* agony shooting through him.
Valentino's eyes widen in shock as pain goes through him a few minutes later, a black tentacle tearing through his stomach.
Alastor appears, antlers scraping the ceiling as he gently pulls Vox to his chest, one arm protectively caging the whimpering media demon. Radio dial eyes set their sights on Valentino, hate gleaming in them as the Radio demon backs into the shadows taking an unconscious Vox with him.
I hope y'all know I really love these.
Writing Alastor plus his possessiveness over Vox? Yes?
To start, imagine Vox's surprise when the blade turns out to actually hurt a lot more than he originally thought it would. Val doing the stabbing would probably makes things worse like imagine Vox whimpering, pissed because Val did it before he was actually ready, refusing to listen like always.
Alastor punishing Val for such idiotic actions really heals my cold, dark heart. Bro needs to be handled and out of everyone they have he HAD to use the blade on Vox?
Honestly Alastor might be sure that without Vox the other two really are as dumb as a bag of rocks.
Like not killing both of em the second he sees them while Vox lays, tucked safely and comfortably in his arms is killing Alastor. He wants to handle them now but with Vox literally bleeding out he mustn't.
I do feel that with Velvet Alastor would probably kill her with no hesitation, the only reason she'd survive is if Vox someone convinced him too after he wakes but up but there's truly no saving Valentino. No matter what Vox tries to tell him Alastor always keeps an eye out for the next time he sees the moth demon.
Vox would honestly be torn at first? Like he's betrayed at the fact that they did such a thing without his health seemingly being thought of so it really manages to get to him which pisses Alastor off because he's literally right there? Why is Vox dwelling when he was here with him now? Honestly it's giving a bit yandere 👀
Angel probably accidentally mentioned it at the hotel and immediately after hearing it Alastor disappeared to go find the vees.
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sheepispink · 16 hours
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A Pearl Necklace
HAPPY ENDING VER of A Pearl Series
Ch1 Ch2
Where leon doesnt mess up and also leons pov because THATS SO FUN!!!
Continued from end of chapter 1 👍 this is a BONUS chapter. It makes more sense if you read chapter 2 first then this one. This can also be read as a continuation from chapter 2 as in the time line is the same except that it is ends with a good way and its his pov and like a few lines r diff
“That’s good enough. I fucking hate being woken to push her away from me..” A surge of anger swims in his chest as he shuffles to the edge of his bed, fuelled by a fear he doesn’t dare to pay mind to. It’s true, he hadnt wanted to deal with your tears or the feeling of you so close to him; nowadays
it created a feeling that was like a gnawing at his gut. His body eventually settles as his head sinks into the pillows, fluffed by your hands. Even when he’s tucked underneath the covers and beside the love of his life, he just feels so, so.. vulnerable. He rolls onto his side, one hand under his head as he tries to settle a racing pump somewhere in his chest, his eyes squeezing close. His throat chokes and his muscles clench and although he hasn’t made a sound, the reminder of the past few weeks screams in his ears like bells. Every single day is starting to feel more and more like autopilot, blanking his head out in hopes he can do his job without being reminded of horrors of years ago. He was worked up tonight, having fought another B.O.W and hiding a nasty gash beneath his shirt. You’d definitely ask about it later; the mere possibility bringing a flame of anger and forcing him take a sharp intake of breath. He turns over, seeing your back face him now and his lips pull at a small frown, wondering if you woke up for a moment. You shouldn’t be crying yourself to sleep, ever. But he leaves you this time, still revolting the thought of your touch and your skin if he dared to come closer.
When he wakes the next morning, he cant take it anymore. How is there another round of tears upon her face? He finally pushes away the nausea that creeps in his throat, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Hey, love, what happened? Who did this to you?” Forcing such honeyed words feels like a crime to himself, almost making him frustrated with himself for being untruthful. He also hates the way he’s grateful when you just wipe them away and force a smile, mumbling something about watching a sad movie. Not even for a moment does he dare challenge that, satisfied with a lie as he gets up for another gruelling day.
Over the next month, he feels a swell of pride for how much he has healed. For one, he’s managing his thoughts and emotions much better, no longer hanging on a loose thread whenever someone just speaks. He feels better, having finally gotten to the hang of closing his mind off whenever the thoughts arose. He was sleeping better, you barely even touched him in his sleep anymore— it was perfect. The one thing that slightly irked him is when you would leave the house. Why are you leaving? He hates that he’s curious and he knows he should just let you go; it’s another fuel for the temper that seems to take him easily these days. You’ve also been asking a lot of questions about him recently: how he finds the clothes you ironed for him, the food you cooked and, worst of all, his day. He’s already doing enough to push it away and you’re just bringing it right back to him again.
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He smells the familiar scent of blueberry pancakes as he steps into the kitchen that morning. You’ve been making them again recently but he wont dwell on the why and how. He doesn’t really like to think too much anymore. He picks up the newspaper as he sits at the small kitchen island, hair tousled and muscles aching from the long rest he received after a particularly tough mission. He had woken up on the other side of the bed today, kind of confused how he didn’t squash you in his sleep but as always, he doesn’t question anything. You slide a plate over to him, stacked high with those tasty pancakes and a dollop of whipped cream atop. He always had a bit of a sweet tooth and it’s been a long time since he’d been in the mood for sugar. Regardless, he’s not in the mood to smile or thank you, just eating his food as per normal.
“So..? Did I finally get it right?” He doesnt need to look up to see the small laugh and the way your lips curve into a teasing smile, one he had grown to despise. You always do this, every time you ask about his damn day.
He just- he cant take this anymore. You’re always prying, digging deep into his head and ripping bandages he left on because the wounds wont heal, they never will. He keeps them patched up for a reason, he doesn’t want to see it again. Nor does he want to talk about it.
“Can you stop interrogating me every day about whatever you do? It’s fine, okay? It’s never been any damn different; I don't see the big deal.” He scoffs, gritting his teeth as he holds back from practically shouting at you. His eyebrows furrow in exasperation, one hand rubbing his temple; he cant bear the headaches your words bring.
“I.. Leon- I was just trying to get some feedback.. They dont ever taste as good as the ones you would make.” Now you’re reduced to a stammering mess, trying to stir guilt within his gut, but he wont give in today.
“Well, can you stop? It’s really fucking annoying having to answer your stupid questions every day over menial things. Are you that insecure?” He doesn’t know why he said that but he knows it’s left his lips before he can stop it and one pang in the back of his head tells him that maybe he really is just being honest. You are insecure, thats why you’ve been doing so damn much and annoying him all the time. He takes another bite of the pancakes, his body screaming for relief even now with each rumble of his stomach.
“Leon- I understand work has been stressing you, but I'm just trying-“ There it is, that stupid expression again as you speak the one thing he never wanted you to say. “Work? That's what you think this is about? Maybe you are just idiotic or too narcissistic to realise maybe you are the problem.” He drops the fork in his hand, the metal hitting the porcelain plate as he stands. Of course you just had to mention work, you could never let him get a break could you? You just always had to ruin it for him.
“I am trying to actually be understanding, I'm sorry if I annoyed you but Leon- there is no need to put me down like that.” Again. Work. Don’t you know how to stop? He can feel that anger fuel again, rising and burning with each an every word. Until it snaps.
“You think you’re being understanding.” He laughs at your pitiful expression, thick with a mocking tone, as he says the words. “I can’t believe it. You actually think that. If you can get one thing through your mind, know that you don’t understand anything about me. You never have. Hah.. ever since that night where I almost fucking choked you.” He sneers at you, pushing the chair back as he stands, walking over to the sink with footsteps that echo with uncontrolled emotions.
“I’ve been trying to ask you—to help you. I want to be there for you..“
“Yeah, as if. You know, on that night, I really thought that you might just understand, unlike anyone else has. I was stupid enough to even think that. You just told me your same stupid reassurances; I should’ve kept my hands on your throat a little longer that day. I wish it scared you off and out of my life.” He snaps, leaving a thick tension in the air, like a wall between the pair of you. It’s cruel and unforgiving and an ache in his heart tears the muscle. Bloodthirst, it’s all he can remember from that virus thrumming in his veins. He can’t just quench that bloodthirst, not to you, so his mouth does the work, wearing you down bit by bit. The consuming memory of devouring the very life out of a human, it’s almost like it’s returning to him now.
“You’re not what I wanted.” Words are just spilling out his lips and he cant even control them; he cant even hear each calculated insult.
“I shouldn’t have expected things you could never reach.” He speaks, the plate dropping into the sink with a horrible clatter. All your words are blurring into one, meeting, intersecting all at that one statement ‘work has been stressing you’.
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He stands before the sink, having splashed his face with water at least seven times for the past forty minutes. Only now does he finally feel more like himself—or well the version of himself he prefers to exist as—and his head is free from that invasive fog. Slowly his chest falls, letting out a long breath as his finger pushes the tap off. He hasn’t dealt with that in a while and it only served to remind him that he never wanted to again. That feeling of an aching chest, ribs feeling like they’d crack from the pound of a terrified heart, desperate for relief. Although he always manages to calm every time, the edge of the cut always remains unsealed. Theres no real relief other than the fact it’s all over, no peace in his mind ever. It frustrates him all the more, he’s tried anything and everything and yet theres still that pinprick of a hole which has cracked his mind and heart.
After that, he barely stopped interacting with you altogether. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt right. Maybe it was because you really were pissing him off about everything or that he had started to fall out of love with you. Or maybe, though he never liked to let it linger, he was terrified of the memories only you could resurface. He watched your every frown, the light in your eyes slowly dim out as you start to shift and change. It’s been two months since he last considered you his wife, let alone someone he even cared for. He barely feels the guilt of leaving you like this anymore nor does he feel anything anymore. It just feels blank. Like everyday, every hour, every minute of these days. He can’t remember when he last washed his hair; he just knows he did it. He cant remember filling out the reports, but there they sit on the desk. He cant remember what life was like before the missions.
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Six months. It’s been six months since he almost killed you, since his hands were on your throat and your terrified expression flashed through his eyes with your shaking pupils and beating chest.
Six months since he hurt you. He thought you had moved on, he thought he moved on. He thought he was doing okay.
Only having just stepped through the doorway, his eyes already found your trembling form on the couch. Your eyes were red and wet, salty streaks down your cheeks as you sob. The worst of all is that when you heard him enter, your eyes widened in a way that was far worse than just regular shock. Like you’d be scolded or mocked, shouted at or reprimanded; you looked like you were scared you would be hurt. He couldn’t shake that sight this time, every time he looked at you even when you scramble to reassure him that it was just hormonal. He knew it was bullshit; he had always known and he wanted to ignore it but he just couldn’t. Not anymore. Not when you were scared of him.
He sits at the breakfast table again the next morning, the air quiet from the lack of humming when you make your food, not even music playing in the kitchen or a pep in your step as you dance around the kitchen. You dont spend 5 minutes fluffing the pillows before bed, nor do you use those stupid face masks with the silly patterns. Hell, you dont even put makeup on anymore. The fridge is stocked and yet theres not even a trace of you to mark it as yours. Everything seems to have changed more than he expected. He cant fathom that he missed all these little differences and the fact there were so many. You’re not the same anymore.
There you go again, leaving randomly during the day after scrambling some excuse about needing spring onions. You barely ever use spring onions and he’s positive he saw some in the freezer yesterday. Whilst he usually would’ve ignored it, he finds himself edging closer and closer until he finds himself following you down the road. He saw the fresh tearstains this morning and you gave him no explanation again, this time he will find out.
You walk and walk and walk, and yet you never go to the grocery store like you said. So why do you even leave the house? It’s not like you were avoiding him, you still hung around him plenty and it’s not like you just needed fresh air, otherwise you would’ve just said so. He keeps his distance as he follows you, your depressed expression obvious, until eventually you pass by a friend. It doesn’t look planned but eventually the pair of you sit at a bench and as bad as it seems, he just cant turn around now. What if you tell her the reason you’re always upset? He needs to know.
“Hey, you know i always see you outside these days. I mean damn, do you really love nature that much?” Your friend teases, although a small pitiful look swirls in their eyes. Leon had been wondering the same thing as her.
“I uh.. well..” You give a sheepish smile as you lean into the bench. “I figured Leon would want some alone time.”
“Again? You come like everyday.”
You just shrug, sinking into the bench and quickly shifting the topic with a shake of your head.
A lot of things are starting to become clearer to him now. Every single action of yours held genuine love and yet he couldnt even bear to think about it. He wouldn’t dare to, he couldnt give in no matter how tempting it seemed. This is the life he chose; the life that would kill him slowly but it had it’s perks. He heads home after that, thinks about what happened for a bit before deciding ultimately to leave you alone again. Even so, you still plague his mind every night, every minute and second. It still makes his chest burn all the more, his irritation on an all high. He should not care, he cannot care. So why does it feel like he’s going to eventually break?
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His body is covered in bruises when he returns home that night, a bandage around one of his hands and his eyes sunken. He had never felt worse in his life, feeling like he was tipping on the edge of fainting or just losing everything altogether. His heavy feet dragged him, feeling like weights were pulling him back as he reached the doorstep. After a few mishaps, he finally finds the keys and unlocks the door. His boots echo on the hardwood floor and though he’d usually collapse into bed, he needs some painkillers desperately tonight. The door for the kitchen is right there but he feels compelled to head to the living room and check if you’re awake. He hates that he’s actually glad he did.
This feels like the memories that resurface, only a new kind. You’re crying, again. You’re sobbing your eyes out and he’s had enough; he’d exhausted, bruised and battered and he’s not letting guilt consume him tonight. How dare you disturb the life he forced himself to follow? Anger swells at the sound and sight of you crying today, not because it hurt his hears but because it hurts his heart. The footsteps grow louder as he nears the couch and he hates the way you look up at him in a trembling fear, hands gripping the fabric of your pajama trousers. “L-leon, i didnt mean- it was a sad movie-“
“Stop giving me those fucking excuses.”
He’s pissed, his body feels broken, and he’s not letting you get by anymore. He’s letting that anger reign free. He nears the couch until he’s standing before you, no words spilling out your lips as you freeze up in fear. He could do anything to you but would he actually harm you? He knows he looks like he would, and he sees that realisation flash before your eyes. He leans down, closer and time seems to slow as his hand reaches out. His eyes focus on how you squeeze your eyes shut, the mere sight grasping his heart tight, brace for the impact and the sting of pain that should follow if he were anyone else.
But he’s not anyone else and he’s disgusted with himself that you would think so. His hand meets the small of your back as his arm wraps around you. He places your hands around his shoulders, knowing you seem far too frazzled to do so and takes you into his lap as he settles in your seat. In silence, he strains his bruised arm to grab the blanket you keep at the end of the couch. You always said it was for ‘cold nights’ but it always translated to cuddling sessions until you were caught by slumber and he carried you to bed. The warm fluff of the blanket is pulled over the pair of you, his hand keeping you firmly in place against his chest as he makes sure to settle you. He doesn’t dare say a word, the nausea in his throat creeping higher with each brush against your bare arms. But he’ll bear it for you, just this once. He knows your still unsure: he can see the way you sneak small uncertain glances as your hands twitch at his shoulders, begging to wrap around his form. So he doesn’t make you lift a finger, taking your hands in his and helps them to settle around his body before he returns to his embrace on you again. It’s utterly silent in the room yet the need to speak is desperate; the both of you know this isn’t normal and yet neither of you are complaining. With his chin resting gently on the top of your head, he rubs your back slowly until you relax into him and somehow grasp him even tighter. Even though his body feels like a block of ice, some part of him inside melts aswell; a small sign of that vulnerability he despised returns. Yet still he stays here until you begin to mumble small apologies which are only met by a small shake of his head and a motion to stay silent. You immediately fall quiet and he sees your eyes glimmer for the first time in months; he’s not sure if the crying caused it or true hope, but he prays you’re feeling just a smidge better. You end up resting your head against his chest comfortably, glistening tears staining your cheeks as you eventually fall asleep.
He takes you upstairs soon after, settling you on the armchair as he notices the dirty sheets from his lack of care. Despite his previous exhaustion, he couldn’t care less about his bruises as he takes out fresh sheets from the cupboard and changes them quickly. Once the bed smells brand new again, he scoops your drowsy body again, hushing you when you begin to wake, and tucks you beneath the covers. He cant lay beside you in such a state so he begins to head to the bathroom, considering a quick shower just to scrub off any grime. Much to his dismay, he’s quickly stopped, your weary eyes blinking as you sit up in bed and your fingers lightly tugs at his hand.
“I.. uh.. um..”
“Yes?” His voice comes out gruffer than he’d like, fingers twitching at the feeling of your skin against his.
“You- you’re going to come back, right? You’re not going to leave, will you?” The mere sound of your hopeless tone is enough to make him grit his teeth. The question sounds hopeful and yet it’s obvious you think you don’t trust him to say the truth.
“No, i’m not leaving, I’m just taking a a shower.” He states, voice just as cold as the one that would cut you through with insults. Still, his hands are gentle as they push your shoulders back into the bed.
“Go back to sleep..” He sighs, pulling the covers over you again. “I’ll be quick. I promise.” He watches as you reluctantly nod, eyes watching him with distrust before he turns around and disappears into the bathroom.
He stands infront of the mirror again, waiting for his mind to crack and fall as it usually does on these hallowed nights. He had done everything wrong tonight; he touched you, spoke to you, even promised you. He went near you when he shouldn’t have. But no onslaught of fears come today, or that sharp ache in his chest which reminds him on horrors in a foreign place. Instead, he just looks at his confused expression in the mirror, because for the first time in seven months he’s not acting mindlessly. He’s actually thinking, breathing and talking; he’s living. After everything he’s done to survive and live better, the one thing he needed was you. He understands now, after all this time, why his mind was so insistent on staying away from you, why he did everything. It was because he was scared.
Everytime he gets a nightmare, it ends with the fear on your face after that horrible night. The more he pushes it away, the more he tries to forget is the more he ended up harming you. He refused to touch you because of the fear he could do it again. Every single thing shut off in his brain because he was terrified of those traumatic experiences and he couldn’t ever admit it. He even refused to come near you because he was scared you’d try console him and he knew he would break within seconds. Vulnerability had never been his strong suit and the mere fear of it had ended up being the cancer that consumed every single part of him until he became a living shell. He never wanted to hurt you, or snap at you, or make you feel like nothing. He always figured it was better that way because it meant you wouldn’t have to deal with him and he wouldn’t have to open up. He was a coward and he had paid the price for it; the cost would’ve been your sanity if he hadn’t cracked tonight. He doesn’t want to think of what could’ve happened if he didnt, but he has to. Avoiding everything led to this and it will again. His hands plant against the shower wall as he starts to wash, and slowly begins to think about everything he did wrong even if it hurts more than those night terrors.
He watches your drowsy eyes widen upon seeing him when he re-enters the room, his heart aching at the tear stains that shimmer on your cheeks from earlier. “I told you to sleep..” He mumbles out, standing awkwardly in the doorway, wishing he could avert his gaze but that would be too cruel to you. “I..i… you..” Your lips fumble for words, eyes gazing up and down his unclothed body. Just in his boxers, he stands before you with his adams apple bobbing as he swallows sharply. “Yeah..”
From head to toe his once pristine skin was covered in scars and bruises of all kinds. He hadn’t let you seen him since his trip to Spain and the sight had been much more horrible back then. Scratches, bite marks, dark scars that show deep gashes and even fresh purple bruises from today’s mission. He knew he couldn’t bear to speak to you about anything just yet, but he mustered up his courage to at least show you. He was also aware this wouldnt make you magically forgive him and he wouldn’t accept it if you did. He fucked up, everything, but he’s not about to let it die when he can at least help you bounce back. He’d destroy himself if it meant seeing you as happy as you used to be.
“Leon.. i..”
“I know you’re going to feel bad, so don’t. I didn’t want you know, thats not your fault.”
He watches you nod meekly, quiet eyes still scanning all over his scarred form, before he begins to walk hesitantly over to the bed. Clenching his fists, he drives down the burn of pain that comes with each step and the guilt that blazes through his gut. Your hands reach out, tentatively before grabbing onto his own. “..Fine, i wont say that.. but can i say one thing at least?”He lets out a small sigh and nods in agreement, squeezing your hand as he sits in bed next to you. Your eyes flutter meekly as you swallow, his hands carefully lifting you to bring your head to rest on his lap with his back pressed against the headboard.
“I’m pissed at you. I- i really am and-“ Your eyes are persistent as they look right up at him, chest rising quickly as you spill everything out. “You made me feel like i was going insane and-“ He’s concerned at how your nails imprint into your palms before he gently moves your fingers to focus on something else—anything else, even himself. So he pulls you into him as you crumble, your fingers digging into his back as to express your desperation. 
“I wanted to help you so bad- i didn’t want us to fall apart and we were, fuck- we couldn’t even be near each other. You looked so miserable every damn day Leon- I couldn’t even do anything about it-“ You let out a choked sob against his neck, his hand pulling you firm against him as he squeezes you protectively.
“It was never your fault, you’ve never done anything wrong in your life. I was too much of a fucking coward to face life and i ruined us.” He confesses, the palms of his hands cupping your flushed cheeks. “Dont you dare forgive me, not now. I dont want you forgiving me until you’re absolutely sure.”
You quieten down almost instantly by his words, reaching your hands up to rest behind his neck until eventually you nod and he knows he’s made the right choice. His lips turn up just slightly and then you sit up a little better, trying to look firm even though you had been so vulnerable a moment earlier. That’s why he loves you, you’re just so perfect. Not once have you ever cared about what others think of you, nor do you let yourself be trampled over so easily. Even if you’re lips are wobbly as you narrow your eyes at him right now, coming off more adorable rather than angry. Despite everything he’s ever fought and the praises he receives for his work, you’re the strongest person in this very world and the reason he’s still here. You once told him that if he was a mountain, you’d be like those little flowers that grow at the top even when the conditions are beyond habitable. He’s never believed anything more until now.
“Fine.. if you really want that then i wont forgive you until you tell me everything. I refuse to forgive you until you tell me every little thing in your head.” His lips quirk into a slight smile, a first in too many blank days to count. His thumb rubs the curve of your cheek, so rosy and pink. “I promise, the day you forgive me will come.” He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before shuffling until he’s laying back in bed with you atop of him. “But for now, i want those dark circles under your eyes gone immediately.”
“You should sleep on the couch for all the days i did.” You feign annoyance, small huff leaving your lips and without a second thought he rises out of bed. It’s like it’s hitting him all over again, like a teenage boy trying to hide his crush, he misses the warmth of your body desperately. Even so, he knows he deserves far worse than sleeping on the couch, so he’ll bear it for now.
“I’ll make you breakfast everyday day going forward too. Blueberry pancakes, just the way you like it.”
Right now, it sounds like the bare minimum, but you had no idea how much he’d love you from now on. He’d tell you more but he’d prefer to see the glimmer in your eyes when you’re surprised. Though you tug at his hand before he can go.
“I think we can leave your punishment for next week. You owe me 6 months worth of love.”
That makes him finally grin and he’s under the covers again, arms enveloping you before you press your lips against his.
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brookheimer · 1 year
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looking at the 'midseason trailer' and seeing roman fighting his siblings, roman shitting on gerri, roman working for fascists, roman walking proudly through ATN like logan did just two days prior... it's not surprising, but it is fucking sad.
logan's death will not free roman. instead, it will reforge the chains he's worn all his life, casting them in iron -- that's what roman deserves for thinking, for the first time in his life, that maybe he wants the chains off. that's what roman deserves for killing his father by not loving him enough, by not loving him correctly or at the right times. logan's death will not free roman at all. if anything, it will imprison him.
(as always, this got very long, so keep reading under the cut!)
this was the worst case scenario for roman. not just logan dying, but the exact way everything played out. he betrayed his siblings, he fired gerri -- for nothing. he could have been on the plane with his father in his last moments -- he refused. his last interaction with his father was leaving logan a voice message that called him a cunt -- the first time roman has ever, ever, questioned or stood up to his father, and also the last. we don't know what killed logan. we probably never will. but god if it won't feel awfully coincidental to roman: the one time he fought back against his father or even showed the slightest hint of doing so, his father died. is it likely that logan heard roman's voice memo and keeled over because he called him a cunt? no. but is it just as possible as anything else? entirely. roman might have killed his dad. roman murdered logan when he could've been on the plane with him holding his hand, if he were a good son. he didn't even tell logan he loved him. not that he needed to, it fucking oozed from his every pore and the desperate nature of that love was one of the reasons logan could never quite stand him -- but that's not the point. roman's one attempt at agency, at setting boundaries, at standing up for himself killed his fucking father.
logan dying would never have been good for roman, at least in his current state, no matter how the actual death came to pass. people often talk about abusive relationships as if the end-all-be-all fixer to abuse is independence, and it's not. independence isn't always enough to heal, especially not when it's forced upon you rather than something you choose. this is especially true for roman, i think. what roman needed was not just to gain his own independence, but to realize that independence and love are not mutually exclusive, that gaining one does not mean losing the other. logan's always hammered in roman's weakness, his wrongness; roman was never someone who deserved to be loved on his own terms. roman's never considered himself to be someone with agency and authority in his relationships -- he's been told over and over again that he isn't a real person, that there's something deeply wrong and unfixable in him, and he believes it. he's never set boundaries with his father or even his siblings because i don't think he really realizes he has the power to do that. he's simply there until people decide they no longer have use for him or want him around, and he'll always come crawling back after a kick because he doesn't realize he's not on a leash -- that he doesn't need to be on a leash. independence has been unreachable all his life, he isn't normal or real enough to be a real normal independent capable person, but if he grovels and shows his use enough, then maybe he can be loved. but his dependence and loyalty is all he's good for. independence means no love, no family, no relationships. and roman desperately wants, needs, those relationships in a way that none of the other characters do (or at least can admit to) -- he wants his father in his life, no matter what; he wants his siblings in his life, no matter what. but independence, being his own person, separating himself from logan's side means he'd lose everything else, everyone else. he's not good for anything anyways. it's not like he has other options.
...until the start of season four. that's why this is all so tragic -- more than anyone else, it seemed like roman was on the road to healing. it seemed like he was finally realizing that independence and love might not be as mutually exclusive as he's been made to think: maybe he could be independent while still having a relationship with his siblings and even his father. maybe he could have his cake and eat it too. he's realized that he's capable, that he has his own worth, and that he can be successful without living under logan's thumb -- and, more importantly, could still text him on his birthday and try to rebuild a relationship, this time outside of business. outside of "that room" in waystar royco. an actual fucking family relationship. that's what escaping the cycle would look like for roman — not complete separation, not a metaphorical killing of his father, but the ability to live alongside him, to have a life outside of him, to love his father without living for him. so simply removing logan from the equation wouldn’t help roman, not when what he needs most is to realize that self-respect is not mutually exclusive with love, that being your own person isn’t a betrayal, that family and love aren’t dependent on how low you can kneel and won’t be whisked away the moment you stand up. and for the first time in his life, it seemed like he was on track to discovering this. maybe he and the siblings could have the hundred, logan could keep going with atn, and in a few years down the line they'd all get together to talk shop and joke around and coexist -- for the first time, he had started to think of himself as enough of a real, okay person to be allowed to coexist with his family, rather than naturally subordinating himself in every interaction.
roman could’ve been his own person, could’ve escaped the cycle, could’ve started a business with his siblings and tried to heal, but now he won’t. he can’t. roman can’t become his own person now, not when his first attempt to do so is exactly what killed logan. it’s his fault. he fucked up and now there’s no dad. he gained his independence, but at what cost? love. that’s the cost. it always has been and always will be. nothing could be more detrimental to roman roy than the exact series of events that occurred in this episode, because just as he started to see a world beyond his father, logan dies -- proving once and for all that the only world beyond logan is one without him in it at all. that’s been roman’s fear all along and why he’s stuck so close to his side: roman loves and loves and loves and is terrified, terrified, of death. of loss. but in a moment of 'weakness,' roman wobbled (he tried to stand up to logan rather than just taking the kicks as he's supposed to, as he always has), and his father paid the ultimate price. there’s no more dad. there’s no reviving him.
…unless, of course, there is. unless roman can undo his error by choosing his father again, and again, and again. becoming logan is the closest roman can get to resurrecting him, after all. and besides, doesn’t he owe it to dad after killing him? after calling him a cunt, choosing not to be with him on that plane he ended up dying on? after forgetting to even say “i love you dad” before the end? roman needs to fix things. needs to make it like dad's still here. needs to make it like he didn't kill his own father by refusing him for the first time in his life. so roman will be the firebreather logan wanted -- he'll do ATN, he'll push for mencken, he'll do whatever it fucking takes to try and make things right. if it's his fault logan's no longer here, then he needs to do everything he possibly can to fulfill his dying wishes, to do what logan would've done, were he alive.
"dad can't die, he's dad." he can't ever die. he's immortal, and his immortality was solidified by the circumstances of his death -- logan will not die. he’ll live on in roman, as roman.
roman will make sure of it.
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running-in-the-dark · 10 days
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I've got an appointment with my psychiatrist tomorrow, and I'm getting my conch piercing swapped out for a shorter one. that's gonna be stressful 🙃
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chiropteracupola · 1 year
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a little pain now, to save a great deal more pain later
[flintlock fortress is a collaboration with @dxppercxdxver]
#em draws stuff#flintlock fortress#team fortress 2#blood#today on the em cupola show: wild self-indulgence. but hey I feel Bad so I'll draw what I Like. and today that's medical procedures.#someone leaned over my shoulder while I was drawing this and asked 'is that bloodletting' and they were Almost Right so I'm endlessly proud#in fact it is smallpox inoculation!#sorry to everyone who I have bothered with my Smallpox Talk in recent memory but It Will Happen Again.#the game style itself is kind of rockwell and leyendecker-y to me so I wanted to do something with a similar look to their work#had a lot of goals for this piece and I think I really did achieve all of them quite nicely#could I keep these guys recognizable without showing their full faces? yes I think so!#could I make 'getting a mild case of smallpox with the lads' seem a bit romantic even? yes to that too.#also. scout tattoos make an appearance. (do not go looking for them in any other art of him on account of I Forgor)#and a new look for ansel (this man dresses Boring but that is no fun for me to draw)#'backstory relevant' I say as I do not discuss any of these guys' backstories again.#'that's for us to know and for you to find out' I say while giving you no way at all to find out#have been in a constant state of 'by gosh having a little less blood in me would make this situation better' for several days now#and while I am using Normal methods to improve the situation drawing such things does work a bit to heal the mind#'we're doing just fine' says local guy who is madly drawing the same guys over and over again
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fragrantpines · 10 months
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I have a lot mixed feelings about the second part of the event.
#it's both good and bad feelings#warning for spoilers below about story so i will take about the grinding stages first#bad: i'm going to strangle cherry with my own hands#what do you MEAN he heals 50% of his hp after his passive aoe hits#excuse my language but what the FUCK#thought second grinding stage would be as easy as first grinding stage but nooooo#as expected of the man who took 120+ pulls and refused to come home#okay story spoilers below proceed with caution#good: i adore loulan's main story a lot; the concept of evil and good which gets blurrier the more someone tries to differiate them is hnggg#also the fact that dongbi is obsessed with catching a-yu is because a-yu is what he wants to be but could never become#a fugitive who fights for his own principles in the shadows; someone who doesn't think twice before following what he thinks is right#he envies that a-yu has the freedom to do what he wants so he's desperately trying to capture him in order to prove to himself that#the path he walked down was right.... even though that costed him so many things.... too many things#meanwhile a-yu envies that dongbi has an identity; a set of principles that he will stick to no matter what#everything a-yu ever wanted was lost in that fire so he has nothing left to fight for#the thrills of theiving and the amusement of this cat and mouse chase is only to distract him from the fact that he will never get-#-what he truly wants for they've long slipped out of his grasp before he realised how truly precious they were to him#ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh god i love this event so much it's so good#please read the story with cn dubbing for full immersion it's so so good#now back to the grind for a-yu and shifu#tale of food#the tale of food#▪︎ edits#cherry biluo
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rosicheeks · 3 months
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Been thinking about you hon, missed seeing you around. Glad to have you pop up in my feed again ❤️
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#thank you so much for the kind message#idk how much I’ll be on right now tbh#I’m struggling a lot#I know I say that all the time#but it’s been bad like really really fucking bad lately#today has been especially bad because of my period and my emotions and hormones or whatever being all whack#might just be my period talking and how whack my brain is right now#but I’ve been seriously thinking about admitting (committing? idk the right word) myself to some sort of hospital#I don’t know where to go or look at…. I just want to go into some hospital and be like ‘hi I’m extremely mentally ill and I need help asap’#but I don’t think it works like that#I would talk to my parents about it but I already know what they’re going to say#99.99999% sure they’re going to say something like ‘well have you been praying?’#trust me i WISH praying would magically heal me but it doesn’t#anyway I was hanging out with a friend today and we watched a show and I barely even remember what it was about#the entire time I was thinking about how to get myself into inpatient or some sort of help#also freaking out that I’m almost 26 and then I’ll be off my parents insurance and feel like it’ll be 10x harder to do anything like that#I just don’t want to live like this anymore#everyone else is growing up and doing things with their lives and I’m just the same old depressed girl with nothing to show for my life#I’ve been surviving which is good don’t get me wrong#but when I die I don’t want to be like ‘wow what a good life I really survived well’ 👍#anyway thinking about texting my sister and asking her to help me but I don’t want to be a burden or anything#lol forgot I’m probably going to get criticized for bitching in the tags so I should shut up#anyway I’m very very very unhappy#and I’m going to go eat some cereal now ✌️#ask#anon
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flamboyant-king · 1 year
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We saw the beginning, now I be thinking about all the possible...uhh the word is like aftermath...epilogues? Seeing as the narrative will be left open ended, we can hypothesize and fantasize just about anything!
This one is Harvey carrying on with what he idealized as a normal life, getting married, having kids, going out with the boys, stuff you see on TV. But Cammy is still there, still a part of his life. And that's pretty neat. And also I cry.
#i went on a spree yesterday with a bunch of aftermathematics that made me cry myself to sleep#because no matter what. every single end. cammy will outlive harvey. every thing in between can be different#cammy leaving. cammy staying. reluctance. romance. etc etc. cammy will live on without harvey. and it will hurt them. a lot.#it hurts me a lot. im still crying over 'thank you for keeping me in your life'#cammy could be living in the garden until the very end. either of harveys life. or the tree they took care ofs life.#maybe cammy leaves but visits from time to time. or maybe they visit right before harvey kicks the bucket#who knows! thinking about anything past the narrative makes me cry#because we dont see that in media. we always get the good ending but that is never the end. what happens afterwards?#cause grow as we go's narrative ends after harvey finally reunites with his family in the philippines and decides#i want to stay at my house and take care of my garden. ill be sure to visit every year from now on.#and the credits would roll as him and cammy travel back. on the plane. the taxi ride. harvey getting the key in the door.#harvey putting cammy in the little makeshift bed he made. and him looking out the window of his room down at the garden. him smiling#and then it says end. thank you for watching. this took fourty two years to make oopsie whoops#god i go on long rants when its late. anywho compare to last time i made a possible ending#cammy reluctantly leaving as they both start to fall in love with each other#cammy willingly running away knowing harvey will heal from this and move on and be normal#this one here theres no leaving. there is no normal. its just living dude#grow as we go#sketches#harvey#camellia
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elytrafemme · 1 year
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i think into the new year i am going to have a more forgiving perspective toward myself regarding my mental health and what might come of it, because i think being more accepting of my behaviors and feelings has allowed me to more suitably take accountability for it (which i could go into a whole side spiel for) and also that i’m tired of torturing myself over things that have gone on my whole life. i love myself, love my body and my mind and my passions and my words, at least the majority of the time. and it’s a disservice for me to keep finding loopholes to hate myself considering that. 
it’s hard to commit to anything for me, i’m pretty much the exhibit A of non committal tendencies especially regarding myself. but i’m not helpless in the face of that, and i want my new year’s resolution to be something along these lines:
i want to forgive myself. i want to have more good days than bad days. i want this year to be memorable. and i want to fall even more in love with people and this world, even if it disappoints me. 
i don’t think any of that is inherently difficult. we all inherently want to grasp some kind of happiness. those with bad memories want better ones. we want to support ourselves and we want to love others. i think it’s more of a struggle of pushing through all the bullshit to get there, to put it simply (God knows 2023 is full of... anniversaries, and strange major changes, and everything), but i want to do that. i really do. 
i want to, by the end of 2023, look back on my life and go. i like this. i like this life. i took something that was shitty at the start and made it beautiful. and that beauty is myself and the world and people i have kept close. 
#nightmare.personal#i am thinking about this right now because#in the past few minutes my mood has been fluctuating. wildly. like very much#and it's uncomfortable! i don't like the feeling of going from euphoric to bitter#but i need to understand that there's no morality to my feelings#and that i'm okay. will be okay.#every rage episode is followed by a day so blindingly happy i can't even imagine it#it's hard it's hard and it's painful knowing this is the year#i go to college. my family leaves the house (and city) i have lived in my entire life. i leave high school.#this year has two five year anniversaries too which. are a lot to handle.#but i want to fall in love with the world and i know i will!#not all this is bad! i'm growing! i'm healing! i'm moving on! i'm alive!#i don't want to be a tragedy!#i want to move out! kiss a girl! wear lipstick! cry my eyes out! go to gatherings! celebrate my 18th birthday!#i want to feel the sunlight on my face and know that things are getting better#that's what i want from 2023. i don't want a perfect year#God knows my mental health has been very destructive recently#i KNOW my year won't be all sunshine and it'll actually be so so much darkness#but i want to be the sunshine. i want to walk through the dark and never stop#because i know. i know that i'm not the only sunshine out there#and i'm going to find that other light. and maybe we'll embrace each other.#and i'll hold her in my arms. not like an old friend. something far more personal#and i'll forgive her.#yeah. yeah i think that's good.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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...
#somethings gotta give. bc the way i exist now is not sustainable. i mean. it is but like at what cost ya kno#i just want to clean my apartment and go to the dentist. thats all i want. and that makes me so sad#my mum texted me today like pls work on a xmas list and literally i dont want anything i just wanna clean my apartment#and like not hate everything i have to do on a regular basis. and to b able to concentrate and not be paralyzed by everything#which is to say i need to be medicated but that's just another thing on a growing list of things that needs to happen so like cool great#mayne itll be better once i start taking measures. it wont. i know it wont but maybe it'll at least b terrible in a different way#bc im tired of this way. and im pretty sure my boss thinks im having a breakdown and like shes not really wrong but its still annoying#i should also get tickets home for winter break. but the mental math i have to do to convince myself i can take time off is exhausting#i should probably go for like a full 2 weeks. and hope it heals me even tho none of the breaks ive had this year have healed me#just take 2 weeks and get a game on steam and just not do anything as i agonize over all my applications#and agonize over the fact i probably have to be here doing this for at least another 7 or 8 months#i should have left last year. ugh. i should have done a lot of things. i should b working on my manuscripts right now#or doing something productive. im just tired. and i dont want to meet with ppl tomorrow. i just wanna sleep#unrelated
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slutdge · 2 years
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my favorite part about life is that it is completely pointless and then you die, but like ive chosen to view that as a positive
#as in i can either get the support i need from social services and escape this abusive relationship#or not and then i just kms#or relapse and just keep using til i die#and all three of those are equal in my mind now theyre just. neutral. i really feel like im just playing a video game these days.#nothing means anything to me anymore no matter how much i want it to its just like. going through the motions.#and ive developed into this mindset over the last 6 months or so involuntarily#i used to Feel Things but thats been declining since my cousin killed himself#and moreso since the doctors told us my grandmas got a year max to live#ive just lost my ability to care anymore if that makes sense#being unmedicated because i cant get in to see my doctor probably isnt helping either#maybe psychiatrists should be responsible and not ghost rheir fucking patients for over a year so it didnt have to get to this#but i feel like its a point of no return. even if i get back on my meds. the last 12 months of bullshit have just caused irreperable damage#to my outlook on life#i think the despair is permanent#yes i know all i do is bitch and moan about my life go away lmao#think ive earned my right to bitch and moan considering what i have to go through on a daily basis#almost feels like this outlook on life has been healing which. says a lot about the fucking bullshit i have to put up with#just feels like game over and for once im ok with it. im completely alone taking this its all me and thats fine#i like myself more than ever to be honest like this is the closest ive ever felt to myself ever. whatever the fuck that even means.#the bottom line is that feeling like ive completely lost my mind has made me feel more like myself than i ever have#this makes no sense im psycjotic blah blah blah ignore me#whatever im screaming into a void here#what im trying to say it gets to the point in lifelong abuse where youre so severely beaten down#no one can help you. so you can either choose to kill yourself or keep living and hope maybe one day it will stop#but the latter may ultimately be for nothing theres no guaraentee or hope youll ever be free of that#and theyre neutral options to me because i know theres almost no hope of escape considering how powerful this person is#havent decided which of those options are the best for me yet but there is one certain which is i will be alone#but im coming to force myself to accept that and try and not think of it as such a bad thing#being alone is ok especially in death i think#this sort of robotic feelingless mental illness takeover of my brain is slowly helping me accept that
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fragileizywriting · 2 years
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therapy is expensive, but writing about my feelings is much cheaper
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