#okay ill go be mentally ill elsewhere | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pluckyredhead · 7 months

Text

What the heck is going on in Batman/Gotham War?

I know a lot of people in fandom are confused and/or upset about what's been going on in Gotham War - why is Bruce acting like this, what is Selina doing, why are the Batkids taking sides. So I figured I would fill you all in on what's been happening in Batman and Catwoman since Chip Zdarsky took over with Batman #125, because it has been BONKERS and I have been enjoying the hell out of it.

Below, the quickest summary I can manage while still being comprehensive:

[Content warning: mental illness, abuse, suicide (...ish), LOTS of violence.]

The first arc, "Failsafe," starts with Batman and Robin (Tim, in this case) in pursuit of the Penguin, who is on a killing spree. In the very first issue, Tim gets shot in the neck. Bruce has to take him to the hospital, but first he has to strip him out of his costume and put him in civilian clothes to preserve their secret identities, triggering memories of when he had to do the same to Jason's dead body. There is LITERALLY NO PURPOSE TO ANY OF THIS EXCEPT WHUMP (Tim is back in action with a fucking BAND-AID on his neck very quickly), which is how I knew this was going to be good. Beat Tim up! Make Bruce cry about Jason! I want these men to suffer! (There is also SO much to be said about Tim's own Poor Mental Health Decisions throughout the entirety of Zdarsky's run so far, but that's for a separate meta post.)

Anyway. Bruce leaves Tim in the hospital and goes to confront Penguin, who turns out to be dying of mercury poisoning. He kills himself and makes it look like Batman did it, forcing Bruce to flee. (Penguin actually faked his death and is alive elsewhere under an alias, but that's not important right now.)

In the Batcave, a massive robot called Failsafe emerges. Failsafe attacks Bruce, who usually eats killer robots for breakfast, but he can't seem to get the upper hand on this one. Duke, Cass, Steph, and Dick show up to help, but Failsafe beats them all too, while Tim gets an injured Bruce away and to the Batcave.

In the Batcave, Bruce puts on a weird purple and red Batman costume and a new personality takes over: the Batman of Zur-En-Arrh. Now, Zur has a very complicated history going back to 1958, but for the purposes of this story, all you need to know is that when he was younger, Bruce decided it would be good to hang out in a sensory deprivation chamber until his mind created a secondary personality, Zur, who is essentially Batman without Bruce. Zur is pure efficiency who does not care about anything but the mission. He created Failsafe, for one purpose: to kill Bruce if Bruce ever crossed the line and killed someone. And right now, Failsafe believes that Bruce killed Penguin.

Failsafe nearly kills Tim, which Zur is okay with writing off as an expendable soldier's death, but this causes Bruce to take control of the body back because "Tim isn't my soldier...HE'S MY SON!" (Tim Nation, why are you not ALL OVER this story? It's catnip.)

Babs calls in the JLA (SuperBat fans, you will also want to read Bruce's adoring description of Clark when he shows up), but of course Failsafe has kryptonite, which it stabs Clark with. The League dumps Clark and Bruce into the JLA jet and distracts Failsafe while Tim flies Clark and Bruce to the Fortress of Solitude. Bruce tells Tim he's a good boy and jumps out of the jet and into the ocean so that Tim and Clark will be safe from Failsafe. He's rescued by Arthur, who takes him to Atlantis to heal. THIS HAS ALL ONLY BEEN FOUR ISSUES SO FAR.

Two weeks later, Bruce wakes up to discover that Failsafe has taken over Gotham. He teleports up to the JLA Watchtower on the moon to lure Failsafe there, then blows the Watchtower up, hoping to catch a ride on one of the Javelins. But Failsafe has already destroyed them, so Bruce RIDES A BOOSTER ROCKET BACK TO EARTH, OXYGEN MASK CLAPPED OVER HIS FACE. The whole thing has some powerful Scooty-Puff Jr energy.

The only tricky part is reentry, when Bruce starts to burn up - his costume is fireproof, of course, but his chin is exposed. SO HE TAKES OFF HIS LITTLE BAT-PANTIES AND PUTS THEM OVER HIS HEAD. I swear to god this happened in a real comic book and the entire "Bruce falls off the moon and survives" sequence is utterly delectable goofy nonsense and I truly cannot recall a time I've had more fun reading a comic book.

Anyway, Bruce lands directly outside of the Fortress, BECAUSE OF COURSE HE DOES, and runs inside to find Clark and Tim. While Clark keeps Failsafe distracted, Bruce and Tim program nanobots to inject compassion into Failsafe. I SWEAR TO GOD. They zap him with the nanobots, but Failsafe pulls a high tech space gun out of the Fortress and shoots Bruce with it anyway, apparently disintegrating him. Tim falls to his knees in the snow, weeping. TIM NATION, WAKE UP, THIS RUN IS CANDY FOR YOU.

But of course Bruce isn't dead! That wasn't a killing gun, it was a "zap you into another dimension" gun!!! THAT was the compassion!

So Bruce finds himself in a dystopian alternate Gotham, and I'll be honest, I didn't love this arc ("The Bat-Man of Gotham") as much as I loved "Failsafe," but it has its moments. In this Gotham, Bruce Wayne is dead, so Regular Bruce is like "Oh boy, time to Batman this place up." Also he's plagued by hallucinations of a skeleton version of Jim Gordon who is still wearing a trench coat AND A MUSTACHE. Like I said, it has its moments.

This Gotham is controlled by Arkham, and anyone who is diagnosed as "crazy" is locked up. A new villain, Red Mask, is in charge, and Selina and a Venomed-up Harvey Dent work for him. Bruce teams up with an orphan kid (of course) named Jewel and goes after Red Mask, who turns out to be some guy named Darwin Halliday and ALSO...the Joker. Well, he's the Joker who hasn't been Jokerized yet. But one time he breathed in some chemicals that let him see into the main reality of the DCU (???) and glimpsed Regular Joker and now he wants to build an interdimensional machine to mentally connect with Regular Joker across universes which he assumes will make him insane, NATURALLY.

Bruce attacks Red Mask, who sics a Venomed-up Ghost Maker on him. Ghost Maker cuts off Bruce's right hand. Bruce cauterizes it with an electroshock machine and ties some spikes on it (SERIOUSLY) and goes after Red Mask again. Meanwhile Red Mask mentally connects with an alternate dimensional Joker...but instead of it driving Red Mask insane, he's what drives the Joker insane. Desperate to become the Joker somehow, anyhow, he jumps into the interdimensional portal, and Morally Dubious Alternate Universe Selina kicks Bruce in after him.

Meanwhile, Tim is in full "I KNOW I SAW HIM DIE BUT HE'S NOT DEAD" mode, which: bless. So he teams up with Jon Kent, which...gosh, what an astonishingly boring duo. I love Jon, I love Tim, they're perfectly nice and normal around each other, I'm falling asleep. Anyway Tim fights Toyman for a while and then makes a VERY stupid costume where the entire torso is a giant light-up R, because "I want him to see that Robin is coming to save him." GET A THERAPY, TIM.

Bruce finds himself first in the Michael Keaton Batman universe, then the Red Rain universe, BTAS, Batman Beyond (yes I know they're the same universe but I guess he goes there twice), Silver Age, Kingdom Come, Gotham by Gaslight, and more. Adam West gives him a utility belt. The Dark Knight Returns Bruce builds him a robot hand.

Finally Bruce and Red Mask reach the end of the multiverse, which is a Gotham asteroid floating in space, surrounded by giant Jokerized sharks. LUCKILY BRUCE HAS BAT-SHARK REPELLANT IN HIS ADAM WEST UTILITY BELT!!! Honestly this whole arc was worth it for that moment.

Bruce knocks Red Mask out, but now he's stuck. He has a device from Batman Beyond Bruce to get home, but it's only good for one person, and he can't leave Red Mask there to die. Of course, that's when Tim shows up in his stupid giant glowing R costume and they hug it out, thereby fulfilling but also compounding all of Tim's issues since 1989.

Anyway things are fine now, right? Sure, Bruce is hallucinating that his family is on fire, and the Zur personality is not going neatly back into the box where it's been all these years, and he still has a robot hand (Damian, hilariously, immediately announces that he wants one too), but he's FINE. He is a little bit mad at Selina, because she broke out of jail (she was in jail because she killed her fuckbuddy because he was trying to kill Bruce), and also because she didn't tell him Penguin was alive and that would have stopped Failsafe, and also because Other Selina kicked into another universe. Selina, very fairly, is like "Well I'm not responsible for Other Selinas and also maybe don't build robots to kill yourself with and not tell anyone about them???"

THEN we got Knight Terrors, the summer event in which a villain called Nightmare caused everyone to fall asleep and, uh, have nightmares. Bruce, specifically, had a nightmare that he met an eight-year-old version of himself that vomited up a man-sized bat with a gun for a head. I laughed SO HARD. Bruce also had his body borrowed by Deadman for the duration of the event, so while he endured the psychological toll of nightmares like everyone else, he also endured the physical toll of everything Deadman was doing PLUS the mental toll of being aware of what was happening in the waking world even though he couldn't control his body. As soon as the event was over, he lapsed into a coma so that his body could get some damn rest.

Okay. Now we're up to Gotham War.

(I know, I know. But for all of you who are like "How could Bruce do this???" about Gotham War...*points up* THAT'S HOW. HE IS NOT WELL.)

Bruce awakens from his coma and IMMEDIATELY decides to Fight A Crime even though Babs is like "Maybe don't?" But he can't find any crime, which is...weird. His kids confirm that Gotham's been super quiet since he's been out.

Selina hears that Bruce is awake and is like okay, time to pay the piper. She calls all of the Bats to a meeting and explains that she's the reason crime has been down. See, villains like Joker and Two-Face always have goons, right? But what if the goon supply dried up because the goons have better jobs? So Selina has trained All The Goons In Gotham to be...cat burglars. No violence, no stealing from anyone who can't afford it. More importantly, no helping Scarecrow or whoever commit mass murder.

All of the Batkids are like "Hmm...I feel uncertain about this, but it's working...I don't know what to think..." except for Jason, who thinks it's hilarious and is instantly Team Selina, and Damian, who is staunchly Team Bruce. Bruce, meanwhile, is like "No! NO! THIS IS CRIMES, AND CRIMES IS BAD!" and Selina's like "I mean, robbing from the rich is basically a victimless crime" and Bruce screams, I swear to god, "MY PARENTS WERE 'RICH'!" Inexplicable scare quotes and all. I laughed so hard.

Anyway this is the basis for Gotham War and it is endlessly hilarious to me because everyone in the Batfamily is supposed to be a genius and yet not one single character has pointed out that:

There are jobs the goons could be doing that AREN'T illegal. It's not just violent crime vs. nonviolent crime. There are in fact many other jobs! I am POSITIVE Gotham needs construction workers and hospital orderlies. (Yes, I know it's hard for people with records to get jobs. That isn't addressed.)

Being Batman is SUPER ILLEGAL.

They are all so stupid.

Selina's plan doesn't even work, because one of her thieves gets killed by a rich person defending their home, and Bruce is like "See? This is why crime is bad!" and like...pretty much snaps. He's particularly fixated on Jason, even (rhetorically) threatening to kill him, which is when the other kids jump into the fray on Jason's side, all except for Damian, who like I said is firmly Team Bruce. (This makes complete sense to me, Damian has been dealing with severe trauma and isolation pretty much nonstop since 2018 and he and Bruce have finally made a tenuous peace, so I can understand why he wouldn't want to lose that.)

Also, Vandal Savage buys Wayne Manor. It's so random and SO funny.

OKAY BATMAN #138. Bruce has kidnapped Jason and injected him with a variation on fear toxin which will be triggered whenever Jason's adrenaline spikes, the idea being that Jason is no longer capable of killing - but in practice, Jason is no longer capable of even getting up off the floor, he's so terrified. I want to be really, really clear here: Bruce is like 90% Zur here, and the only reason he goes this route and doesn't kill Jason is because the remaining 10% that's still Bruce loves Jason and is trying to help him. He's just incapable of good or humane help because Zur literally can't do feelings.

Dick knows something is up and is sneaking around Bruce's Secret Other House We've Never Heard Of to figure out what it is. Damian attacks him to protect Bruce. Tim attacks Damian so that Dick can do what he needs to do, and handcuffs Damian to a parking meter:

THERE IS SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE!!! TIM GO TO THERAPY! DAMIAN GO TO THERAPY! EVERYONE GO TO THERAPY!!!!!

Dick figures out what Bruce did to Jason (it's on the computer, for...some reason?) and absolutely loses his shit on Bruce, beating the crap out of him, which tbh is the only thing that felt off to me in this run because frankly I don't think Dick likes Jason that much. BUT WHATEVER.

Tim pulls Dick off of Bruce. Bruce leaves them both tangled in a net and flees as the cops approach. Zur's like "Good, fuck 'em" in Bruce's head, because the cops will expose Dick, Tim, and Damian's secret identities and Bruce will be free of the dead weight of a family, but the little bit of Bruce still in there throws Dick a batarang so he can free them all in time.

Then Bruce leaves. Damian is devastated.

I WILL NEVER RECOVER FROM THIS PAGE. Damian really thought he could have Bruce's love and loyalty if he turned on everyone else! Tim is going to be a therapy dog to a Wayne even if he has to settle for the one he doesn't like! That unresisting, blank hug made me SCREAM when I turned the page. Incredible. (Also the art fucking S L A P S, god bless you Jorge Jimenez.)

ALSO it turns out that Selina's second in command has been Vandal Savage's daughter Scandal Savage the whole time and they are turning Selina's cat burglar army into their own personal army WHOOPS. (This also feels very OOC for Scandal but at this point I trust Zdarsky with my life so let's see where things go.)

SO THAT'S WHAT'S GOING ON IN GOTHAM WAR. TL;DR:

Bruce is unhinged because he nearly died like 19 times in a week and it unlocked the smaller, meaner purple Batman that lives inside him.

Selina is unaware that you can get money legally.

Tim is going to have a nervous breakdown if he can't fix someone, ANYONE.

Damian needs a hug but ideally from someone he actually likes this time.

Jason is so scared.

THE END.

#batman #bruce wayne #gotham war #meta #i can't believe how long this is

2K notes · View notes

unorthodoxfaithxx · 20 days

Text

The Love Language of Flowers (Yandere OP Shanks/Reader)

I finally remembered what I had forgotten to do once I opened this account -- and that was to share this fanfiction I had wrote on AO3 with you all!

Smut; Yandere ; AFAB

Synopsis :

You were a sickly floral shop owner in an otherwise dreary island. Despite your flowers bringing joy to the island, the villagers never welcomed you with open arms, only accepting you for your coin and products.

When Shanks and his crew come around, the treatment gets worse.

Shanks. He was so strong, stronger than you could ever be. And part of you hoped you could stay shielded under him forever. You always felt like no harm could come to you when he was around. That with him, everything would be okay.

If only you knew at the time what he was capable of.

Chapter 1: Hyacinth - Jealousy

“Come again!” You said cheerfully at the departing guest.

“Yeah, yeah…” The man grumbled as he walked out of your store, slamming the door shut behind him.

You glanced down at your transaction book and sighed, leaning back only to gasp as you nearly knocked over your finest floral vase.

“Oh, dear,” You said breathlessly, stabilizing the wobbly porcelain as fast as you could. With a quick sigh of relief, you shook your head, chastising yourself mentally.

“Sorry, lillies. I didn’t do that on purpose, I swear.”

The flowers in the vase didn’t respond, but you knew they wouldn’t. Being ostracized from the village had left you lonely and turning to flowers for conversation.

They were never known for their hospitality, —you were aware of this when you moved to the island three years ago to find a cure for your illness— but the villagers were even more hostile ever since you had befriended a certain pirate captain and his crew.

Dangerous , a senior woman on the island had warned you, Pirates are no good, heartless ruffians that take and take ‘til there’s nothing left!

But if that were the case, then why were they so nice to you? In the year that you had known them, they graced you with more kindness and hospitality than all of the villagers had ever offered, combined. It always made you happy to see them, and as your relationships deepened, it was harder to watch them go.

Your hand subconsciously moved to touch the bandage at your neck. If only the flowers that remedied your illness were able to grow elsewhere besides the island. Maybe then you could travel, move somewhere far away. But until then, you were content with living your life the way you did.

Your pride and joy was your flower shop. Using the only money you had left from your late father’s inheritance, you opened up your store in hopes of sharing the joy of flowers with everyone around you. The villagers might have disliked you for being an outsider, but they loved your products. So they kept coming back and you were able to keep food on the table.

Today was proving to be a slow day, though. With no orders for floral arrangements, plants, or vases, you found yourself eying your transaction logs wearily again.

The sound of your door chimes ringing quickly caught your attention, and you hopped off from your stool to greet your guest properly.

“Welcome to Floral Feel—-Oh, hi, Red!” Your smile widened into something genuine as a tall, red-haired man approached your counter.

“And hello to you too, Sunshine.” Your heart did double flips at the nickname. You’re the one who started the whole charade, but you couldn’t help but feel funny every time he called you that.

“How’s your day been, Shanks?”

“It’s been alright. My men and I are preparing to make way for the sea next week, so I’ve been busy with preparations.”

“Aw, leaving so soon? Must have had enough of this dreary place, eh?”

“I’d agree, but a certain pocket of sunshine has been making it worthwhile,” He made a show of winking, and you giggled at the gesture.

“Well, I’m glad to be of service. Here!” You handed him a clipped rose from a nearby vase. He took it and put it up to his face, eyes closed, inhaling deeply its scent.

“Smells nice,” He spoke, and when he opened his he was greeted with your stunned face.

“What, something on my face?” He joked.

You shook your head.

“Nothing like that,” you spoke with a touch of admiration in your voice, “I always thought flowers brought beauty out of a person, but with you, you simply make the flowers more beautiful.”

Your words had him stunned, but he recovered within seconds.

“You are a true Casanova, you know that?” He chuckled, breaking the rose off its long stem. He leaned over to tuck the flower behind your ear.

“And I can say the same to you, you make that rose look ravishing ,” He whispered close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Please don’t eat the flowers,” You chuckled nervously.

“Nah, there’s something else I want to eat,” Combined with the intense look he gave you, his words had you turning pink in the cheeks.

“Oh my god, Shanks,” You said with your hands covering your face.

He laughed a hearty laugh, clearly pleased with your reaction.

“Oh, but I’m not joking, Love .”

Love.

The two of you had started dating only recently, and you still couldn’t wrap it around your head that you two were together now. Shanks had always been a tease, but ever since the two of you became official, it’s been absolute mayhem for your heart.

“ Please, Shanks ,” You spoke through your hands. Your ears were red, a color he said he loved to see on you.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Sorry for teasing you, Sunshine,” He patted your head, “But I digress, I was wondering if you were up to eating at the local tavern with my crew and I tonight. My treat.”

“Aw, although that’s sweet of you, Red, I have to decline,” You shut the proposition down without hesitation. “I’m not one to drink, and…I’m not welcome there.”

His smile dropped at that. “Like they refuse to serve you, or you just don’t feel welcome?”

You waved your hands. “Oh, no, no! Nothing like that. I just don’t feel welcome. The venom is there, and it makes me feel uncomfortable. It’s obvious I’m not wanted in the village.”

He sighed. “You know, I can take care of that if you’d like.”

“Nuh-uh,” you waved a finger pointedly at him, “You are not threatening the villagers.”

He’d cross his arms if he could. “And who said I would be threatening them?”

You gave him a look.

“Okay, okay, no threatening. Can I at least get you take-out for dinner?”

That perked you up, “Sure! I’m not sure what they have, but get me anything you think I’d like, please?”

“Aye-aye, Captain.” He winked again, and you giggled at his words.

“Well, I have to check on the boys. I’ll leave you to your own devices, yeah?”

“Okie dokie. I’ll see you tonight!” You smiled brightly and waved him goodbye.

He smiled down at you with love in his eyes, and you felt your cheeks flush again.

A quick peck on the lips left you frozen with your mouth hung open. He laughed as he walked out, giving you a wave in return.

Once you heard the door’s jingle, you shut your mouth and screamed into your hands.

———————————

A few days passed uneventfully. Shanks stopped by your shop every now and then for a chat, on a rare occasion coming with his right-hand man or other crew mates. Today was one of those days.

“So you’re the little lady that’s got our captain smitten, huh?” The mocha skinned man said. He introduced himself as Yassop, throwing you a wink.

“That would be I! Although he’s got me smitten too. Probably even more so.”

Yassop shook his head at that. “No way. If only you knew how much we’ve had to hear Shanks ramble on about the ‘pretty lady in the flower shop’. It’s been driving us crazy! Our ship is full of flowers now, you know.”

You turned to Shanks. “I was wondering what you were doing with all those flowers! You shouldn’t feel obligated to purchase something every time you stop by, you know. “

“Eh, I’m just supporting my lady’s business.”

“Well, your lady is honored.” You offered a mock bow.

With your head dipped down, Yasopp took notice of the crystal flowers displayed behind you. Beautifully crafted, each flower was hand blown, delicately carved out of stained glass.

“Those don’t look like the kind of flowers you usually sell, miss. They look like they cost a fortune. How much for those?”

“Oh, these?” You turned around to stare at them yourself, touching a glass leaf gently. “They’re not for sale, I’m afraid. These were actually a gift from the Whitebeard crew when I first moved into the island. You probably know who they are, yeah? Well one of the boys had a thing for me and tried to propose to me with these!” You laughed briefly, “Can you believe that? I of course said no, but he let me keep the gift anyways. He said it was specially made for me and would just be thrown away otherwise.”

You were too busy admiring the crystal flowers that you didn’t see the face Shanks made. Yasopp saw him clench his fists, but had no intention of bringing it up.

“That’s… nice ,” Shanks forced out.

You turned and teased, “What, jealous? I can assure you that my heart belongs to one person and one person only.”

You took a crystal poppy out of the vase and handed it to him, “That person is you, Shanks. Another beautiful flower for an even more beautiful man.”

“Damn, Shanks, you didn’t tell me that your girl was such a Casanova. Got any compliments for me, pretty lady?”

“I have no problem admiring beauty when I see it. You sir, have gorgeous hair.”

“I-“ Yasopp was taken aback, “No one recognizes the care that goes into my hair, so thank you! Say,” He started, batting his eyes frivolously, “Are you single?”

That got a laugh out of you both.

The velvet haired man elbowed his crew mate. “Hey, no flirting in front of the captain, it’s rude. And don’t steal my girlfriend, jackass.”

You giggled at that, although Yasopp could recognize through years of knowing the man that Shanks wasn’t joking.

He threw his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay, I won’t play anymore.” He rubbed the arm Shanks had hit.

“I’m actually here with Shanks today ‘cause he told me you had dried flowers for teas. I wanted to stock up. We won’t be back for a while, and I get tired of booze every night.”

You beamed. Tea was one of your best sellers. “Oh, of course!” Shanks tucked the crystal flower in his waist sash, and you led the two to a section of your store with pouches of dried petals and flower buds. “Go ahead and open and smell them if you’d like. And I’ll throw in a bag for free, on the house.”

“Appreciated, boss lady!”

You felt a strong arm snake around your waste, and you leaned into Shanks’s torso. “Thanks, Sunshine,” He said softly while Yasopp was busy smelling the roses, literally.

“It’s no problem, I want to be good to the people who’re good to you, Red.”

Shanks sighed. “Your earnestness is gonna be the death of me, Love. I’m already holding back …” He murmured that last part under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Eh, don’t worry about it.”

So worry about it you did not. You spent the remaining half hour talking to the two men and explaining what each tea was and how to best brew them. Yasopp ended up purchasing your whole stock of chamomile and dandelion teas, and you threw in a bag of hibiscus tea for free.

The two ended up leaving after their purchases to reorganize dry storage on the ship.

“Hey, I was joking about your girlfriend earlier,” Yasopp brought up while walking back to the dock.

“Pshh, I know. No hard feelings, yeah?”

Yasopp gave him a side eye. He knew how Shanks could get around the things he loved. “…No hard feelings. I’m going ta make way first, dying to try this hibiscus tea.”

“Go ahead, I got some more errands to run before heading back on.” Yasopp didn’t question it, nodding as he slung the large sack of tea pouches over his shoulder.

When he was out of sight, Shanks went into an empty alleyway, using Haki to make sure no one was in the vicinity, especially not you.

He pulled the crystal poppy you gave him out of his waistband, turning it over in his hand. It really was fine craftsmanship. Someone spent a lot of thought and time into making this gift for you. Beautiful, really.

He stretched his hand out, and dropped the flower onto the concrete. His heel crushed the glass with a loud, satisfying crack .

Chapter 2: Marigold - Passion

Shanks was a simple man. Drink a lot, sleep a lot, sail a lot, work a lot. There wasn’t much that could phase him, even if the most horrific of insults or treatment was thrown his way. As one of the strongest men of the sea, it seldom happened anyways.

But when his loved ones were treated maliciously, the whole script would flip. He’d get angry, belligerent even, and be ready to fight to the death to safeguard those he cared about. The failure to save his childhood captain left a scar in his heart, only fueling his desire to protect.

That’s why when he saw you on the street corner, covered in food, dirt and sand (and what that blood? Fuck that.) just sitting there with your items scattered on the ground, he was seeing red.

“What do you kids think you’re doing?” He growled with deadliest, Haki infused glare he could muster without making anyone in the vicinity faint.

Shanks was not one to hurt children. But seeing you sit there pathetically with tears in your eyes, he so badly wanted to break a bone or two and teach a few life-altering lessons to those hell-spawn.

They were smart at least, because they obviously got the memo and ran off for their lives, shrieking pathetically with their tails tucked between their legs.

“Don’t you ever try this again!” He shouted at them, sighing as he watched them leave for the hills. Once he knew they were no longer an immediate problem he turned all his attention to you.

His beautiful flower, all crumpled and stained with tears. He wanted to shake your shoulders and yell, ‘How could you let this happen to you?’ but knew you would never fight back against children, innocent or not.

“Oh, my love, you okay?” He muttered, kneeling down to meet eye level with you. “What happened?”

It was obvious what happened. Some demon-spawn decided to torment the nicest person in the village, knowing she wouldn’t retaliate. If he could just lay his hands on them, they’d be dead. DEA—

“I was walking back home with groceries when the kids must have thought it’d be funny to play a prank on me. They had me circled and started throwing rocks and rotten food at me. I’m fine now, though,” You smiled weakly, wiping your tears with a clean sleeve, “Thanks for coming to my rescue. Give me a hand?”

He grabbed your delicate hand and helped you up. You dusted yourself off and sighed, making way to pick up the groceries that had all but scattered across the dirt path. He mimicked your actions and before long, your groceries were back in your crumpled brown bag, although beat up and dirty.

You were too nice for your own good. Because even now you didn’t show anger against those children or try to get Shanks, the strongest man in the village at the moment, to do anything about it.

When he asked you why, you responded, “Because knowing the village, it was the adults who put them up to this. In fact I recognized two of those kids, and they usually come into the shop just to visit and give me flowers. I pity them all, knowing they’ll grow up to be the same as their parents, with hatred and distrust in their hearts. One of them looked like they were four years old, Shanks, four. How could I beat up a toddler, let alone get you to do it for me?”

Too nice indeed. Because to be honest (and hopefully you’d never find this out), Shanks was fully prepared to dunk a kid in a trash can and shut the lid if you just asked.

“In any case, I’m just glad you’re okay. Are you going back to the shop?” He asked.

You paused to think about it. “…No. I don’t really feel up to running the store right now.”

“I don’t blame you.” You seemed so sad. Shanks felt his heart twist painfully to see your usually bright self so demure, and not in the good way. He would do anything to get you to smile again.

An idea came to him. “Say, how about I give you a tour of the Red Force? You haven’t been on it yet, right?”

That seemed to perk you right up. “Oh wow, really? I’d love that! I’m surprised you haven’t offered sooner, to be honest. I’ve been dying to see your ship, just didn’t want to impose.”

You looked down at yourself sheepishly.

“Uh, can I go home and get changed first? I’m not exactly in the best condition for an outing right now.”

“Of course,” He stepped closer to you, “I don’t mind if you get changed. Although I’d like if you had nothing to change with at all.” He ended that with a wink, smirking as he saw you glow bright red.

“Oh my god, Shanks!” You jumped to cover his mouth looking around to see if anyone else heard that, “ We’re in public! ”

He moved your hands out of the way, grinning like a madman. “Oho. So you wouldn’t mind if it was in private, yeah?”

You were crimson at this point, and Shanks loved every second of it. By Davey Jones, you were so cute. Your response though, had his head going into overdrive.

“I…” You fidgeted shyly, “I mean…. not really ,” You muttered that last part, and it took Shanks everything in him not to take you home and bed you right then and there.

He wanted to touch you, and bad.

“Getting bold, are we?” He bent over to say lowly against your ear.

“I mean—woah!” He had scooped you up in one arm, impressively. “Shanks, put me down! You’ll get your clothes dirty.”

“No can do. I saw the way you were avoiding putting pressure on your left leg. You hurt your ankle, didn’t ya?”

You looked away embarrassed and sighed. “Yes,” you mumbled, “But I can still walk!”

“Would you rather this, or me beat up those kids?”

“Ugh. This.”

“Then let me do this for you, yeah? It’s the least I can do for my pocket of sunshine.”

You smiled at the nickname and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Again, it took everything in him not to bed you right then and there.

—————————-

You had a blast getting to see the ship. It was big up close, but even bigger inside. You got to meet the rest of the crew, and was pleased to see Yasopp drinking one of your signature teas. He offered the two of you some, and the three of you both shared a cup for a brief but enjoyable moment.

By the time Shanks’s impromptu tour was over, the sun was lowering into a nice, warm sunset.

Shanks had walked you all the way home like the handsome gentleman he was. He always looked at you with such fierce passion that you could melt under his stare. Today, it was even more apparent, and you had trouble making eye contact with him.

When you finally had the courage to not look down at your feet though, you noticed he was staring at you with such a serious expression that you thought something was wrong.

“Thanks for everything today, Shanks. Is there something bothering you? You look like you got something on your mind.”

He looked at you for a moment, silent. His large hands clasped over yours with a gentle squeeze.

“…Come with me, sunshine. I can take you far, far away from these people and keep you safe.”

You seemed to hesitate, something he noticed. But you simply looked at him with sad eyes and shook your head no.

“You know I can’t, Red. I can’t leave my shop. And look,” You pointed at your bandaged neck, “Can’t exactly leave when the only known medicine for my condition is on this island, can’t I?”

“Then we’ll get you a doctor. We can find someone in the New World to heal you, or at least find a way to keep those flowers that you need alive in soil not from this island,” He was pleading with you, and your heart broke at the sound.

“But you don’t know that for sure. And I don’t want to be a burden on the crew when I’m already as fragile as I am.”

Silence.

“I’m…I’m sorry.” You looked down at your feet.

The man remained unmoving from his position. A dark shadow covered his face.

“No.”

He gripped your forearms. Strong enough that you couldn’t budge, but not enough to hurt you.

“You don’t understand, Love. I can take care of you. In more ways than one.”

“No,” he muttered, and it felt like it was to himself, “No. I am not leaving you behind. Not when you’re right here and suffering, when I can do something. Not when I need you.”

He leaned in, staring deep into your eyes.

“And I know you need me too. Don’t you?”

The way he stared at you, with loving, worried eyes made your heart melt. Eyes that were desperate to keep you. Tears prickled your eyes as you smiled weakly.

“You jerk. You already know the answer to that.”

He chuckled softly. “I know. But I want to hear you say it.”

“I need you, Red.”

No reaction.

You sighed. “I need you, Shanks.”

He wrapped you tightly in his embrace, enveloping your body with his like a strong cocoon shielding you from the outside world.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, soaking in eachother’s warmth. Part of you was tempted to invite him, beg him to stay.

Eventually the two of you parted ways, him stopping at your door and giving you a kiss goodnight. You smiled as he walked away with a wave, evening sun illuminating his crimson hair.

You closed the door and prepared for bed.

Later that night, your thoughts roamed to your beloved pirate captain.

He was so strong, stronger than you could ever be. And part of you hoped you could stay shielded under him forever. You always felt like no harm could come to you when he was around. That with him, everything would be okay.

If only you knew at the time what he was capable of.

—————————-

Shanks laid in his bed and pondered ways to keep you with him. He was leaving soon, and he knew you had too many attachments to this island to persuade you to leave with him and the crew.

And like a match being struck, an incongruous idea formed in his head. One he knew you’d never forgive him for if you found out. Hell, you’d probably hate him for the rest of your life.

It was simple, really. Get rid of your attachments. That way, the only thing you’d be attached to was him. In a way, he was doing you more than one favor. The villagers treated you like shit, and he could make sure your life was far happier than what it was now. No one would dare mistreat you ever again.

Yeah. It was a good idea. An idea so good he immediately hopped off his bed, and got to work. He checked the clock in his quarters.

Half past midnight. Good. That means no one would be around to see what he did. He carefully slipped out of the ship, watchful as to not wake any of his crew members or catch the attention of Beckman, who was on watch duty that night. In his hand was a large canister of kerosene.

Once he reached his destination, he looked up at the delicate sign you had crafted.

Floral Feelings .

Feelings, huh? You could blame feelings for what was to come. He had such intense feelings for you that he’d do anything, anything to get you to stay by his side.

Shanks was a simple man. Drink a lot, sleep a lot, sail a lot, work a lot. And when his loved ones were hurt, do everything in his power to remedy the problem. Even if it meant hurting in the beginning.

Breaking into the building, he splashed oil onto the floor, on the counters, on the flowers, and the walls. He noticed those damned crystal flowers and knocked the entire vase onto the floor, satisfied with the loud crash that resonated in the building.

Once he was satisfied with his work, he stepped outside, carefully maintaining distance from the small structure. Pulling a match from his waistband, he lit it, and threw it into the oil covered doors with a simple flick.

Chapter 3: Morning Glory - Obsession

The village officers say it happened in the dead of night.

No one heard it happen, and the culprit left no traces that’d help with any investigation. The best thing they could do was write it off as an accident, and hope your insurance would reimburse you for most of the damages.

They questioned you for over an hour, filling their books with useless information that’d do nothing to help find the culprit. They had even considered you to be a suspect, but the fierce look in your eyes and a seething glare had them scratching that off the book as soon as the suggestion came. When they left, you were all alone.

You just stared, eyeing the rubble that was left of your store.

Your pride and joy was reduced to nothing but ash.

What’s worse is you knew one of the villagers did it. But who? Everyone in this blasted town had something against you. Was it Marnie, the mother of three that blamed you for throwing her decor shop out of business? Or Riley, the man who was convinced you were a witch? Maybe even Lucina, who you fired after finding out she was deliberately poisoning your plants a week into work.

It could even be one of the teenagers that seemed to hate your guts for no reason. They would enjoy a prank like this. You wouldn’t be surprised.

You held yourself in a weak attempt at comfort. What you really needed was Shanks. You couldn’t handle this place anymore.

No, you wanted to leave .

As you trudged your way to the Red Force, the mocking marmalade sky reminded you of the flames that must have engulfed your shop in the night. Tears fell down your face as you thought of years of hard work and memories — lost to the wind, just like that.

By the time you made it to the dock, Yassop was there, ready to make his way to your shop. He didn’t question your teary eyed expression or soot stained dress. Word must have spread quick, because he offered his condolences and silently lead you to Shanks’s quarters. When you arrived at the door, he gave you a pat on the back and left you to your own devices.

—————————————-

Aboard the Red Force, all was quiet. It was later into the evening, and supper was served not too long ago. The captain of the Red-Hair pirates was sitting at his desk, eyeing the clock every other moment, waiting for your appearance. According to Beckman the villagers were gossiping up a storm about the fire since this morning. There was no way you haven’t gone to see your shop yet. Knowing you, you’d come around when you were ready to talk, but he worried about leaving you alone at such a vulnerable time. Maybe he should seek you out. Why haven’t you come to him yet?

Shanks sighed, continuing to go over logs until a gentle rapt at the door caught his attention. It couldn’t have been his noisy men, who had a tendency to barge in unannounced. Who the hell was bothering him at this hour?

“Who is it?” He inquired.

“…Shanks? It’s me.” A muffled voice muttered through the door.

“Sunshine??” He quickly got up from his desk, pulling his things back into their respective drawers.

Shuffling to the door, he was greeted by none other than you, your beautiful face stained and red with tears.

“Oh no, Sunshine. Come here.” He quickly wrapped you in a warm embrace.

“My shop…it’s all gone, Shanks,” you sobbed, “They burned it all down.”

“Yasopp just told me earlier. Believe me, I was going to come see you as soon as I heard the news. I just had to wrap things up so we could depart soon.”

“Don’t go…” You sniffled weakly against his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere, Love. Least not yet.” He reassured you.

You poor thing. All teary eyed and heartbroken. It hurt to see you like this. He may have been the reason for it, but your pained expression still angered him to see. What a hypocrite he was, but if anyone else had caused it they’d be dead in a heartbeat.

“You wanna sit down?”

You shook your head no, sniffling.

“Well we can’t stand here forever. Here, come in and si—“

“Shanks…” You interrupted meekly, pulling at his shirt, “What am I supposed to do now?”

He held you tighter. “One step at a time, Love. We can figure this out one step at a time.”

“I’ve tried so hard to be accepted by these people. But what have I got to show for it? Nothing but food and rocks thrown at me, and the burning of my most prized possession. It’s all just hideous.”

You blinked up at him, “I…I just want to stop thinking for a moment. Please help me forget, Shanks.”

“Sure, just come in so we can sit and chat about something else.”

You looked away, as if pondering the proposition for a moment.

The man stopped breathing when he felt you pull his shirt collar towards yourself, kissing him right on the lips. To his chagrin, you parted after a minute, trailing kisses down his neck.

“I’d rather do something else…”

Oh . Well if that’s how you wanted to forget, he could absolutely do that.

“Love, are you sure?” He still wanted to be a gentleman, giving you another way out before he locked you in . Because once he had you, he wasn’t going to let you go.

You nodded.

Gingerly, as if afraid to break you, his hand trailed down from your back to your hips, and he leaned forward to gently caress your mouth with his tongue. The first kiss was soft, with you reaching to wrap your arms over his neck. Your arms tightened, you pressing your tongue back against his to fight your way in. He relented easily, letting you dominate. His body was tingling when he felt your tongue trail inside his mouth.

When the two of you parted lips, you were panting heavily. You looked so good right then, cheeks pink with puffy red lips.

“C’mere,” Shanks ushered. Once you two were both inside, he shut the door with a heavy bang , making sure to lock the door behind him.

As soon as that door was shut, he pushed your sniveling form onto his bed, crawling over you to meet your eyes. The bed creaked under his weight.

“Oh, you poor thing. I’ll make sure you forget everything, sweetheart. Just trust me.” He wiped a tear from your eye.

You reached out for him, and his heart ached.

Without much effort, he lifted your dress off your head. It took every fiber of restraint in his being not to just tear your clothes off.

“Oh, you’re so beautiful.”

He stared down at your bare chest, your delicate mounds rising and lowering quickly with excitement.

“You’re far more beautiful,” You said with a gentle smile. You began to pet his hair and he almost growled. “Please,” you pleaded, “Just take me.”

“Fuck. You have no idea how long I’ve been holding myself back. I’ve been so scared that I’d scare you away or break you. You’re absolutely perfect.”

You giggled softly. “I’m stronger than I look, Shanks. I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

His eyes raked over your pretty form hungrily. He was going to consume you, and he had your permission to do it. Life couldn’t get any better than this.

You shook under his predatory gaze, looking away abashedly.

“Aw, come on now. Look at me. I wanna see your gorgeous eyes.”

You slowly moved back to look at him, enamored by those heavily-lidded eyes gazing upon you with such passion.

He made quick work with your undergarments. Before you knew it, your undies and bra were on the other side of the room, his own pants following after.

“May I?” He asked, leaning close to your face.

You nodded again.

Using his hand to lean atop you, his mouth met one of your hardened nipples, tongue rolling around in a circle.

You gasped at the sensation, lowly moaning as he suckled on your breast.

You mewled, and oh, how he’d love to hear that sound every day. At this point, he wished he still had his other arm so he could touch you all over. He’d have to make due. His knee moved up to your crotch, and you whined at the pleasure of it pressing against you.

He detached from your nipple with a loud pop . “Didja like that, baby?”

You nodded shyly, bringing your hands to your face in a cute attempt to cover your blushing cheeks.

“What’s the matter, Sunshine? I said I wanted to look at ya.”

“It’s just—I’m only now realizing that I asked for this, but uh, I’m inexperienced. I haven’t done this in a long, long time,” Your admitted, voice trailing off into a quiet mumble, “…this is embarrassing. And it doesn’t help that you’re really attractive.” You patted your cheeks like you wanted to wake yourself up.

He chuckled softly at that. You were so . Fucking . Endearing . “I’ll take care of you, Love. Just gotta relax for me, yeah? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You look stunning.”

“And look,” You squeaked when he kneeled back to rub your sex with his large hand, shortly before lifting it up and splaying his fingers out to display your slick coating his fingers, “You’re already doing so good right now. All nice and wet for me.”

“I-I—-hnggggg,” You bemoaned, hand reaching to cover your face again before Shanks caught it.

“Ah-ah-ah. Keep doing that and I’ll have to tie you to the bed post. Or would ya like that, eh?”

You were a blushing, stuttering mess at this point, both aroused and mortified like there was no tomorrow.

“I….maybe? I dunno, Shanks.”

Oh fuck yes.

The image of you chained to his bed, begging for action or inaction, had his lower member throbbing .

Your words let out some sort of primal beast in him, because his desire never felt so strong in his life. His instincts told him to claim you and to claim you NOW, and never let you go until the ends of time.

That’s it. He wanted you now, and bad.

But he had to be patient. You were in his grasps and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off.

Patience, Shanks. You already made it this far , he told himself.

You gasped at the feeling of his cock poking your entrance.

“I don’t wanna wait anymore, baby. Can I?” He breathed.

You smiled shyly at his request, sending his heart over the moon. “Please.”

That was all he needed. He grunted as he pushed himself into you. God, you felt so tight and warm . If it was up to him he’d like to stay like that forever. He started slowly, pumping in and out of you in the best missionary position he could muster with one hand.

“Ahhh, Shanks,” You cried sweetly. “Th—that feels nice .”

He leaned fully into you, his large torso nearly crushing yours as he made way to encroach his dick into the deepest part of your being. You looked so good with your breasts crushed between your legs. The two of you shared a heated kiss, Shanks thrusting into you harder as his tongue explored the cave of your mouth.

“Fuck, Sunshine. I could fuck you all day. You like your pussy getting pounded?”

You could do nothing but cry out in pleasure, which was all the ‘yes’ he needed.

“Roll to the side for me, baby.” As you laid on your side, he did too, his thick cock sliding in from behind you. He grabbed your leg and lifted it up for better leeway, grunting as he pumped you full with his dick.

“Oh fuck, Shanks, you feel too good. You’re making me feel so good right now.” You praised. He moaned at your words, teeth sinking into your soft neck. He peppered your tender throat with kisses, never stopping his rhythm, if anything slamming into you harder after hearing those words.

You looked so fucking sexy, laid out like a fine gift just for him. He was never one for marriage, being a pirate and all, but here and now he knew you’d be the one. Your ass was so hot as it jiggled, and he was obsessed with watching the perfect way your wet pussy took his dick in so easily. It’s like you were made for him, just for him and only for him.

It made him thrilled to know you hadn’t done something like this with anyone else in a long time. He was taking his time, and he absolutely loved it. He loved YOU. So fucking much.

He flipped you so you were now on your stomach. “On your knees,” He commanded huskily, voice thick with lust.

As soon as you obliged, his breath hitched at how utterly dirty you looked from behind, ass out, pussy dripping with wetness.

Your moans were sweet, so sweet. He cursed under his breath, eyes glued to the way your pussy was forming a white ring on his dick as he drilled into you from behind.

He didn’t ignore the way he felt you clenching tighter. A pleased smirk etched across his face. “That’s it, baby. You gonna come for me? Huh?”

“Hahhhh, yes!” You whined breathlessly as Shanks took you to paradise, forgetting all your troubles as you reached your high. “God, I’m coming!”

“Good girl.” That seemed to really set you off, because immediately after you moaned loudly, inner walls of your vagina beating rhythmically. He kept going, fucking you through your orgasm, much to his pleasure and your distress.

“W-wait, Shanks! I can’t take anymore, I’m— ahhh —really sensitive right now!”

“Oh, yes you can. Can’t you feel the way you’re sucking me in? Come on and take it, baby. You’re doing so good right now.” He slapped your ass and you yelped.

“Mmm, it feels too good,” Whined your cute self.

“You’re cute, ya know that? I just wanna spoil you and take care of you like this every day.”

“I’d like that,” You voiced between pants.

“Atta girl,” The red-haired man praised, leaning into you so could cup your breast with his hand.

He whispered into your ear, “I love the sounds you make, Sunshine. You know how long I’ve dreamed of doing this? God, what you do to me.”

And now that he had you, he’d be hard pressed to let you go.

“Shanks, let me ride you. I wanna see your face.”

“Sure thing, Love.”

So you two switched positions again. Shanks laid on the mattress, leaning back as he watched you insert himself into you.

It was such a turn on watching the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you started grinding your hips into him. You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the lips.

“Let me help you with that,” He offered.

“What do you mea—ah!”

Shanks started thrusting as fast as he could into you, satisfied with the way your pussy tightened on him at every thrust. You held onto him tightly, fingers clawing at his back in a way that he didn’t mind.

You were moaning so lewdly. He felt himself slipping away, imagining a nice, cozy future together where he could fuck you as much as he liked. As much as you wanted.

Shit, he was gonna cum soon.

The fact that you felt so nice and warm was absolutely too much for him to handle.

“Fuck, baby, I think I’m gonna cum.”

You started suckling on his neck with vigor that was bound to leave nasty hickeys later, but he didn’t care.

“Keep going,” You ushered, “Don’t stop.”

“Shit, baby, you sure?” He said, sounding much more affected with each thrust.

He wasn’t expecting to come inside you but if that’s what you wanted, then fuck it.

“Yeah. I think I’m gonna come too!”

His breathing become haggard as he gripped your ass cheek with his hand, pumping into you like a madman. Finally, he felt that sweet release he was itching for as he let out ropes of cum into your pussy, your walls sucking him dry. You rode him even when he had nothing left to give dick sensitive to the touch.

You hopped off him and collapsed at his side, breathing heavily. He eyed the way cum slid down his dick, no thanks to you.

He gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“You did amazing, baby,” He praised.

“So did you. That felt great.”

The two of you laid there in silence, until you broke it. “I love you, Shanks.”

“I love you too. More than anything in the world.”

“…Take me with you, Shanks. I wanna join your crew.”

He shot right up at that. There was a twinkle in his eye. “Seriously? You mean it?”

You nodded, lips curving into the tiniest of smiles. “I can’t bear to see you go. And besides, ‘s not like I have anything left here anyways. Just…promise me we can find a doctor to help me?”

“Of course, Love, of course. Man I’m so glad you said that. I was seriously considering just snatching you away and taking you with us.”

You laughed at that, unaware he seriously meant it.

The idea was getting him all excited again.

“Say, you wanna go another round?”

“What—hey!”

And he was all over you, dragging kisses down your chest before you could say anything.

Chapter 4: Bonus Chapter : The Aftermath

“So, guess that’s everything!” You announced with the clap of your hands.

“Really? This isn’t a lot of stuff, Sunshine.”

You and Shanks were up early, packing your things so you’d be ready for the Red Force’s departure.

You scratched your head sheepishly. “Yeah, I don’t own many things. Being a florist doesn’t exactly earn you a mean amount of Berries, you know? Besides, I sold most of what I owned over the course of this week to have some pocket money.”

You were only bringing three bags with you : one for your clothes, one for your nic-nacs, and one small pouch for your medicines, containing a stash of dried medicinal flowers for your illness. That’d keep your condition at bay for a month and a half, thankfully.

“Well, we have plenty of time to remedy that. Our band of misfits aren’t exactly broke, you know.”

“Aw, is Red trying to spoil me?”

“Only if you want.” He was standing beside you, hand on your hip as he gave you a peck on the cheek, watching with amazement at how fast your ears turned pink. Despite having gone all the way with him, you still felt like a shy, smitten schoolgirl around him. Perhaps the butterflies would wane over time.

“I appreciate it, but maybe another time. I got my own money to spend now, and I’d hate to use the ship’s coffers just for myself.”

“I mean, it’s gonna be inevitable, Love. We kind of have to pick up furnishings for your room. Unless you’d rather live in the captain’s quarters.”

“I mean….can I? Wait—I mean, only if you’re okay with that, I’m not saying I want your space and all, it’s just you’ll be there andIwon’thavetobealoneatnightand—“

Shanks beamed. “Woah, woah, slow your roll there pal. I’d love for you to stay with me. Contrary to popular belief, this cold-blooded captain gets lonely at night.

Your brightened at that.

“That being said, you’ll still have your own room to hang out in when you need space, and to hold all your things.”

“I understand,” You relented, “Where would we shop though?”

“In the village, of course. It’ll be a whole excursion. And I want you there to see the way they look at me when I walk into their shops. The faces they make are hilarious! You’re not the only one they dislike, ya know.” He gave you a hard pat on the back, making you go ‘oof’.

Once the two of you got your belongings on the ship, your trip around the village shops began. Shanks was right, seeing the villagers’ faces as your big bad captain showed up at their shop was hilarious. They didn’t even bother making any snide remarks to you because they were so busy being scared shitless of Shanks. The crimson haired man insisted you buy something for yourself on his dime, so you opted for a cheap sunhat and a new dress. Most of the shopping was dedicated to your would-be room, Shanks promising the shopkeeps he’d be back with his crew (that made one man nearly faint) to grab the furnishings after lunch.

The two of you were walking back to the dock.

“Shanks, I’m not getting anymore clothes,” You said after noticing he slipped a new pair of shoes into his bag.

“Well, who said they were for you?”

You threw him a look. “I don’t think you wear shoes that small. Unless you mean to buy for another woman.”

He threw you one back. “No way, don’t even joke about it. I’m loyal to you and to you alone, Sunshine.”

“Relax, big boy. I get it,” You smiled, “I’m loyal to you too.”

You sighed. “At least you’re better than my old boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah?” Inquired Shanks, a dangerous lilt in his voice that you failed to notice, “What was he like?”

“Handsome,” (Shanks did not like that), “A real heart stopper. But that was all he ever was. He was a playboy. Unreliable. Cheated on me with another girl and ran off with her. Last I heard, he became a shipwright in Water Seven. With a girl besides the one he cheated on me with, of course.”

“Damn, if I ever see him I’ll kick him in the balls for ya.”

You cackled at that. “Thanks, but I’d rather be the one to do it myself.”

“Feisty, eh?”

“Just for you, Shanks. Hey, where are you going?” You noticed he turned the opposite corner, which led to an alleyway. You followed suit, surprised when your back was pressed against the wall.

You gasped as a warm tongue quickly pushed its way into your mouth, a hand squeezing your waist as you were pulled into a demanding kiss.

When you parted ways, you were gasping for air. “W-what was that all about?”

There was a dark look in Shanks’s eyes, “Just claiming what’s mine. I don’t like it when you talk about other men in front of me. Or ever.”

Your cheeks felt terribly hot. And you found his possessiveness actually attractive rather than gross or controlling.

“Uh, I see,” You didn’t really know how to respond, “Guess I won’t do it again, haha.”

“Good girl.”

He gave you a kiss on the forehead, staring into your eyes as he spoke, “Let’s head back to the ship, yeah? There’s something I wanna do when we get back…”

You gulped. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

——————————————————-

Bonus POV: Shanks

You and I were packing your things early in the morning to bring to the Red Force. Without a doubt, I was ecstatic.

Truth be told, it was getting hard to part ways when we made out to sea. This time, I wouldn’t leave the island without you. I’m so glad you offered to come with me in the end.

Although, it did need a little encouragement.

Nonetheless I was happy. Only problem was you barely had anything to bring to the ship. This wouldn’t do. I didn’t realize how little you had until you mentioned not affording much as a florist.

My chest felt a pang of guilt at not noticing your needs. That was going to change though. From now on, I’d take care of you and make sure you were happy and would want for nothing. I offered to take you shopping since we needed furniture for your prospective room, anyways.

When you said you’d like to sleep in my quarters with me, I could feel my heart skip a beat. Everything about you was so perfect to me. And the fact that you reciprocated my feelings had me over the moon.

We ended up going shopping, and enjoyed mocking the villagers together. You were really amused to see their terrified faces at my presence. I don’t think you realized most people fear me, and that’s it’s kind of the normal reaction to have with pirates. Especially towards a Yonko like me. But that’s why I liked you in the first place. Because you weren’t scared. You treated everyone with respect and dignity, regardless of their situation. I’m glad you weren’t afraid of pirates.

That being said, if you ever got too friendly with another pirate crew (Whitebeard’s sons beware), there’d be hell to pay. I’m still trying to get the name of the sonofabitch who proposed to you, but you won’t relent. Probably because you know I’d make a complaint to Whitebeard. Smart girl.

You ended up buying a sunhat and a dress, much to my chagrin. I wish you got more things, but I understand you didn’t want to use my dime for your stuff. Hopefully that’d change in the future. You aren’t just my girlfriend anymore, you’re part of the crew. And I want to take care of you. It’d take some adjusting, but I know you’ll eventually grow to rely on me.

We were done shopping and headed towards the ship when you suddenly brought up your old boyfriend. Why? I felt jealousy surge inside me, but I bit my tongue and held back. Yassop had told me before that I need to work on keeping my possessiveness in check. Didn’t wanna scare you off, after all.

So I listened as you called him handsome, and then went on to call him a cheater, listing all the other terrible things about him that made you two separate. He sounded like a mouse of a man. You could have done better. But that was all in the past, right? You were doing better now.

You were mine. And mine alone. The thought always excited me, maybe to an unhealthy degree.

I led you to an alleyway so I could kiss you in private. I couldn’t handle the lack of physical touch when we were so close together. I absolutely loved the way you tasted, I do everytime we kiss.

I love you. I love you so much.

Do I regret hurting you to get the outcome I wanted? Not one bit. I’d do it again, even if it means you’d find out.

Because now, I had you all to myself.

349 notes · View notes

enderblogs-24 · 3 months

Text

"Everyone's autistic now," "Why's there so much autism," "So many kids faking autism these days."

You know. I had been suspecting I was autistic since I started to understand what that meant, around middle school. I was working with two different autistic kids in a Girl Scout troop I led with my mom, and they did/said things that felt familiar. But I didn't dare bring up those thoughts, because my little cousin was autistic, that was his thing, and I didn't want to seem like I was looking for attention.

I started looking into autism for real when I hit my 20's, because those suspicions never went away... just buried. I had been focusing on other areas of my life anyway - my transition. But that was over, and I could see that things were still "off" about me. I love diving deep into different disabilities, disorders, and mental illnesses, but avoided autism because I was scared of what I'd find. I took maybe one test, masked up and guarded as hell, and because of that it said I wasn't autistic. I didn't answer truthfully, so I went looking elsewhere. ADHD, maybe. I ended up trying to get an ADHD diagnosis, and got misdiagnosed with a personality disorder that can be misdiagnosed in autistic adults. I felt I didn't have an option but to accept the diagnosis, because I was on my way to Chicago; out of time and out of money.

Nearly six months after the misdiagnosis, while I had been looking into the personality disorder and knew for certain I didn't meet the criteria for a diagnosis, (but masked through the appointments, which is how I got it) I had worked extensively on unmasking. I learned many neurodivergencies masked, and thought I'd give unmasking a shot, soon realizing I'd been doing it forever. Once I got better at unmasking, I eventually looked into autism again. What would it hurt to be told no twice? I took a couple quizzes again. Slowed down, answered honestly, and gave every answer my full attention. And I scored high on every one. It was terrifying. But it was also... a relief? While a few of those quizzes weren't too be taken seriously, I did take tests on official sites made by and for autistic people. When I came home from Chicago in summer 2022, I told my mom and showed her all my past scores on official tests like the RAADS, one of which I take annually. Part of me still has doubts that I'm not faking it, I guess.

All of this, at least past 2021, has occurred while people have been posting their own stores about discovering and getting diagnosed as adults. While I initially started looking into things on my own, hearing these people's stories on occasion really, really helped. Random strangers on the internet in a reel telling me they'd been overlooked because they were afab, did well in school, and didn't have many other adults around to see a difference... really helped. I could sneak into the autistic tags on Tumblr and look around at posts, relate to them silently, write down my findings in my little notebook, and go about my day. This "autism boom" as it were really helped, just because everyone suddenly showing off who they are, telling the world "I'm different and that's okay," really, really... helped. I know why I've always felt different and wrong, I know why I struggle with certain things, and I know why certain things will likely never be possible on my own. That's so much better than going thrift my life wondering and beating myself up because I can't function like everyone else.

Everyone isn't suddenly being diagnosed as autistic, now. People are just... starting to listen. Starting to get more comfortable. Obtaining more resources. And it's really nice. ❤️

#actually autistic #autistic #autism #actuallyautistic #late diagnosed autistic #ender's life #he/they

250 notes · View notes

yeeterthek33per · 8 months

Text

Girls Like You (Katrina Gorry x Reader)

A/n y'all wanted part 2, so here she is 😊

Warnings: teeny mention of bad times. Little bit of mention of some violence, not much, though. Mentions of mental health. Some mention of illness.

Also, buckle in, guys. She's a long one.

Part one

Katrina was sure she'd left her favourite shirt on the top shelf. That way, it was away from grabby hands and accidental spillages. Of course, now that she actually needed it, it was missing.

Harper's sat on the bed, playing with an electronic drawing pad. (She made the mistake of giving her actual non-toxic markers one day. Never again.)

As she digs through the large pile of clothing now on the floor, there's a small knock at her bedroom door.

"Hey, Min, just me and Kyra, you need help with anything?"

She sighs softly, standing up again and walks to the door, pulling it open.

"Yeah, I can't find my favourite shirt. Have you guys seen it?"

Charlie thinks for a second.

"You mean that blue sleeveless one?"

"No, the white button-up."

Charlie frowns for a second.

"Don't you own like ten of those?"

Katrina shakes her head. "No, Harper keeps spilling things on them, and at the rate she's doing it, my washing machine can't keep up, so I'm pretty sure I'm down to one again."

She rubs at her face softly. This really wasn't helping her nerves now. Charlie sighs softly before pushing the girl to the bathroom.

"Just put on your other clothes, and get ready. I'll have a look while you finish up."

"Thanks Cha."

She waves her off and continues digging through the mess that she'd probably end up having to lock in the wardrobe and clean up when she got back.

She puts on a pair of blue denim shorts and a simple tank top, so she's not wearing nothing when she steps out.

Twenty minutes of makeup, and another twenty for hair, later, and she walks out of the bathroom.

She can see Charlie sitting on the bed beside Harper, chatting with the small girl, keeping her occupied while she draws as well.

"Oh wow, is that a soccer ball?"

The girl eagerly nods her head.

"That's so coool. I love it. Who'd you draw it for?"

"Mummy! Soccer makes her happy, I made it for her."

Katrina's heart just melts that little bit more. Charlie turns to Katrina with the same expression, hand over her chest.

"Any luck?"

"Yup, it was on the top shelf in the corner still."

She rolls her eyes, and Charlie tosses the shirt to her.

"Of course it was."

She puts the flowy white shirt on and checks her reflection, huffing slightly.

"Nerves?" She hears from behind her.

Charlie's watching her with a small smile.

"Little bit. Nothing I don't normally deal with. In theory, this should be the easiest thing I've done all week."

The blonde only leans her head into her palm. She knows that's not really the case.

"Buuuut?" She prompts gently.

"But.. ugh, I don't know. She makes me a little nervous, is all."

"A little? Min', you've been jittery all week. What's making you so nervous? She obviously has the hots for you, and she set this date up, despite the fact you asked her out, so she obviously wants to go out."

"I know, but like, what if I end up being a disappointing date or something?"

Charlie gives her a pointed look.

"You're kidding, right? Min', I love you and care about you, and I'm gonna say this in the nicest way possible while your child is currently crawling all over me." Harper grins up at the defender.

"You are the nicest, sweetest, protective, and most caring person and a brilliant mother and one heck of a footy player. If you're disappointing to her, she's losing out on a world of love that she won't ever find elsewhere."

Katrina looks down, fighting a small flush creeping up her neck.

"Okay, but what if the fact that I have a child scares her off?"

"Are you serious? You better not be."

Katrina only blushes more at that. Charlie sighs softly.

"Min', aside from the circumstances you both met in and the fact she met your child before meeting you. She said yes to a date, knowing full well you had a kid. In fact, she messaged you just yesterday, asking if the date went well enough, Could you both spend your second date doing something with Harper. It's been four days, and she already loves this little human being. And I certainly don't blame her."

She trails off, giving Harper a big kiss on the cheek, making the girl giggle.

"Yeah, okay, I get your point." A smile makes its way onto her lips at the sight.

"You better. I'm serious Min', you're too good for her not to know what she'd be missing."

She gives her a grateful smile.

The older woman sits back on the bed, and Harper jumps out of Charlie's arms and into her mother's.

"Hi!"

"Hello, little miss."

It makes her little one giggle again, and she hugs her tight, Harper is very much happy to do the same. She's so grateful to have her. She's been light in her life for the two years since she'd been born.

A ping on her phone pulls her back to reality. It's from you.

"Hey! I'm on my way, be about twenty minutes or so? Say hi to Harps for me.😊"

There's a tingle that runs through her when she reads the message.

Charlie just gives her the I-told-you-so look.

Katrina gives her a small shove and texts you back.

"Hey, all good 😊See you soon 😉. Also, will do!"

-------

"I'm still nervous, Ash, It's my first date in like four months. What if I fuck it?"

"Dude, just don't fuck HER on the first date and it's fine."

Your sister's voice plays over the speaker in your car. You'd called her the moment you left the house, nerves grating you down a bit.

You roll your eyes at her.

"Yeah, there's no chance of that happening on the first date. You forget she's got a kid that she still has to go home to. Plus, she doesn't seem like the type to have sex on the first date and take off."

"She doesn't have to stay the night for you both to-."

"Alright! Jesus, I get the point. But still, she seemed genuinely nervous about asking me out."

"Wait, so why are you arranging the date then?"

"I don't know? I messaged first, she was happy to let me take the lead on that one, I'm assuming she's just a little busy, that's why I jumped in. Figured it would be nice for someone to take her out."

She pauses for a second.

"You said she's a professional football player?"

"Yeah why?"

"What's her name again?"

"Ashley, I'm not letting you stalk her, you already scared my last date off, I'm not letting you scare this one off too."

She gets defensive.

"I was not going to stalk her, I was just curious where she plays is all."

"Uhuh, right. Thats exactly what you were looking for."

"You want my help or not?"

"Not if you're gonna internet stalk the poor woman."

"I'm just making sure she's genuine and not some serial killer."

"Oh my fucking god, Goodbye Ashley."

"I was just looki-."

You hit the hang up button. You were just about to pull up at Katrina's place anyway.

You pull over on the side of the road and quickly check yourself in the mirror.

You went with a rolled up white rolled see-through button up tucked into a pair of black jeans and a black bra underneath. That and a pair of your lucky white skate shoes.

You try and steel your nerves a bit, wiping your palms on your pants and spray a quick bit of mint breath freshener in your mouth.

You get out of the car and make your way to the door and hit the door bell.

----------

"Ooh, shes heerrreee." Charlie takes off down the stairs.

"Charlotte Layne Grant! Do not answer that door!"

By the time she tells Kyra to watch Harper and runs down the stairs she's already got the door open.

"Hey, Y/n! She's just coming down now. Now, no funny business, we want her home by no later than ten and- Hey!"

She gets shoved away from the door by a very annoyed looking Katrina.

You watch on, biting your lower lip to hide a laugh, flowers in hand.

You hear her scold the blonde mildly and then she returns to the door a little flustered.

Her hair is down straight but tucked back just over shoulders. The white flowy shirt, rolled back to just below her elbows, shows off her wrist tattoos and her collarbone. Your eyes trail over it before meeting her eye again with a small grin noticing her having done the same.

"Hey, you."

"Hi." She says it with a grin of her own.

You offer her the flowers, and she pulls you towards her into a hug. Your arms wrap around her, keeping the flowers from being crushed. She's only a little bit shorter than you, so you're able to rest your chin on her shoulder as her arms wrap around you.

It's a short embrace, but she leaves a lingering touch to your waist as she lets go looking up at you.

She takes them inside for a second while you wait and returns swiftly.

You step back, holding out your hand for her's.

"Ready?"

She takes it, her hand warm in yours.

"As ever."

As you both walk down the drive and you open the passenger side door for her to step in, she gives you a grateful smile and a small peck to the cheek. You hear one final yell from behind you.

It's Charlie at the door, sporting a glare. "Home by ten." And gives you an I'm-watching-you gesture. You chuckle and salute at the blonde while Katrina yells back.

"You better be watching my daughter, Charlotte Layne."

Charlie's eyes widen slightly, and the front door slams shut behind her when she takes off inside again.

You close the door once she's settled and return to the driver's seat.

"Alrighty, Clicked in? Let's go."

As you pull away, she watches you carefully, waiting for an explanation as to where you guys are headed.

You hum softly. "So, I wasn't sure entirely as to your preferences, so I've got a few places we're going to, if you agree that is, we don't have to go if-"

Her hand rests on yours, your arm having been leant on the centre console.

"I'll go where you've picked for us. Im not fussed, I'm just here with you."

You smile and nod, her fingers intertwining with yours for the rest of the ride. When you pull up in a spot beside a blank modern style building, there's a little confused look on her face that's adorable.

"C'mon, you'll see once we get inside."

You nod your head towards the place. Katrina raises a brow slightly but decides to trust you as you both step inside.

It suddenly makes sense to her as you both step into a crowded bar.

It's an open mic night. In a gay bar.

It's somewhere you're a regular at, to the point where the bartender, Aiden, yells out to you the moment you both step in the door.

"Ayyy, look who's here, ladies, theydies and gents!"

There's a few cheers around the bar as some of the locals spot you. The bar isn't packed, there's only maybe forty or so people in the room, but there's a stage and a mic setup where the current half tipsy singer has stopped to cheer as you come in as well.

Your face flushes as you turn back to Katrina, a really curious look on her face now. "I'm a bit of a regular... for the karaoke, that is." You rub the back of your neck.

"Well then, miss singer, sign me up, let's see what you've got."

You smile and lead her over to the bar.

"Ms L/n, the usual?"

You shake your head at Aiden.

"Virgin tonight, and another entry for, oh, Katrina, this is my best man, Aiden. He's the one who built this bar from the ground up."

He shakes his head as he fills a glass with some lime juice, sprite, mint, and a little soda water.

"Not on my own. Your girl here runs the place when I'm not in town."

Katrina raises her brows at that. You just smile sheepishly. It certainly explained why you were a regular then.

"Okay, I may have lied a little bit about only coming for the karaoke. But it definitely is a highlight, I swear."

She just gives you an amused look.

"What about you, love, anything to drink?"

"Just a soda water, thank you." He nods and pours her drink. He processes the drinks, but when you go to tap your card, his hand jumps in ahead of yours with another.

"Little bugger, you're gonna get me in trouble, man. Paying for my drinks."

"Who said I was paying for yours?"

He playfully winks at Katrina beside you, and you tut and whack him softly, knowing he's joking with you.

"Don't mind him. He can't keep a husband, so he steals my dates instead."

He puts his hand to his chest, giving you a mock offended look.

"How dare you? I'll have you know, it's husbands, not husband."

You stick your tongue out at him. "Too bad none of them could teach you to finance either."

He raises his hands in surrender, with a small laugh. "Got me there. What's getting added to the queue tonight ladies?"

You look at Katrina, but she just gestures for you to take your pick.

"You're the karaoke expert."

You raise your brow but take the tablet from Aiden. Putting in an intrumental that you know well enough and she'll probably know.

"Up for some gender bent Maroon 5?"

Katrina nods and you both grab your drinks.

You take a seat at one of the open tables.

As you both wait for the queue to progress, you talk about what led you to take over part ownership and what Katrina's life is like playing professionally.

"Honestly, he was desperate for someone to babysit the bar at the time. He knew me from back in Uni, knew I'd graduated with some certs in business management, finance, and accounting. So he calls me up and asks me to take over for a few weeks. I kind of latched onto the place after that, and now I do his yearly taxes for him in exchange for a few free drinks and a lifetime entry to the karaoke. What about you, what's the league like?"

"It gets kind of busy during the season, particularly during the summer months. I get asked to play in other spots, and it gets complicated. I play for the Brisbane Roar currently, so media duty is something I get asked to do regularly."

You raise a brow at that. You knew she played professionally, but to what level? You had no idea.

"That's really cool, and that's November through April, right?"

She nods.

"I was in Sweden for a bit with Harper, but I wanted to come home again. At least for a while."

You nod in understanding.

"I was actually in Sweden for about six months doing international work for a company I used to work for."

She tilts her head slightly.

"Really, when was that?"

She takes a drink.

"I came back about a year ago, so June through November."

"Was it meant to be that long?"

"No, it was supposed to be a permanent move, but I got homesick too quickly, didn't know anyone, and I was living on my own for five out of six months."

"So you told them to bring you back?"

"Ha, no, I just quit. They refused, so I left and never turned back. They were underpaying me anyway, I don't regret it whatsoever. Life is less stressful when you work for yourself."

"So what do you do now?"

"Well, when I'm not here doing Aiden's paperwork, I work as a freelance financial advisor/accountant, it pays decent but the residential market in Brisbane is kind of crap, so I live with my sister and her wife in the meantime, do you do anything between seasons?"

She kind of hesitates for a moment, but as she goes to speak, next in the queue is called up.

"That's us." You take a long sip of your drink and hold out your hand for Katrina to take.

She looks a little nervous, now suddenly overcome with a little stage fright.

"C'mon, these guys aren't scary, just drunk and happy to listen to us sing gay shit all night."

She puffs out her cheeks and takes your hand.

You lead her ip the stage and the small audience in the room cheers.

You take the mic for a second.

"Evening everybody, another night in for me. Bringing you Girls Like you by Maroon 5, covered by yours truly, aand."

You gesture to your date.

"Katrina, my new partner in crime."

You nod at Aiden to hit play.

It's a soft piano based melody compared to the usual guitar intro she's used to, but she knows the song.

Spent 24 hours

I need more hours with you

You spent the weekend

Getting even, ooh ooh

You start out singing, hoping to calm the girl's nerves and let her get used to the atmosphere as well.

She's pleasantly surprised by your singing voice, although given the cheers you got, she'd suspected you weren't exactly terrible either at that point.

We spent the late nights

Making things right, between us

But now it's all good, babe

Roll that Backwood babe

And play me close

You gesture the mic to her, grabbing her hand to pull her closer to you and nudge her to sing with you.

'Cause girls like you

Run around with gals like me

'Til sundown, when I come through

I need a girl like you, yeah, yeah

You grin when she sings into the mic with you. She's pretty good, actually. It shouldn't surprise you, though. The smoothness in her voice makes your heart jump a little.

Girls like you

Love fun, yeah me too

What I want when I come through

I need a girl like you, yeah, yeah

You start to sway a little, and her hand squeezes yours as you meet her gaze. You use the moment to watch her sing. Her blue eyes are sparkling under the orange-yellow lights. Her eyes crinkle slightly, and her nose scrunches when the guys in the audience cheer and whistle.

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah yeah yeah

I need a girl like you, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah

I need a girl like you

She blushes when the crowd cheers louder and lets you take over again.

I spent last night

On the last flight to you

Took a whole day up

Trying to get way up, ooh ooh

The mic stays in your hand this time, and Katrina steps back a little to watch you sing. The way you smile brightly while singing, the way your eyes close as you let the music take over you, it has her heart racing a little.

We spent the daylight

Trying to make things right between us

And now it's all good babe

Roll that Backwood babe

And play me close

You motion her back over and she bites her lip, hiding a smile as she shakes her head, wanting to hear you sing instead. You raise a brow as you continue, stepping and grabbing her hand to pull her back towards you.

'Cause girls like you

Run around with gals like me

'Til sundown, when I come through

I need a girl like you, yeah yeah

You brush your shoulder with hers, your other hand settling on her back and you feel hers settle low on your hip, you turn and give her a wink as you continue.

Girls like you

Love fun, yeah me too

What I want when I come through

I need a girl like you, yeah yeah

Your hand is warm on her back, and she can smell your vanilla perfume from her position beside you as it floods her senses. Your voice is soothing, calming her more energetic side and allows her to relax into you as she sings with you.

Yeah yeah yeah

I need a girl like you, yeah yeah

Yeah yeah yeah

I need a girl like you

The song rounds out and the audience applauds you both, whooping and clapping and you take a playful bow and turn to Katrina to applaud her as well, giving her a proud smile.

You both step down off the stage, a little hot from the heat of the lamps facing the stage.

"So we gonna talk about the athletically talented mother soccer player being able to sing?"

She coughs slightly and turns her head away. "Nope."

You try to meet her eye again, a small pout on your lips.

"No? Aw c'mon, you were so good up there."

Her face flushes as her head whips back to you.

"Says you. When was that gonna come out? Professional singing level talent."

You end up with a blush matching hers.

"I.. never really pursued it. Not worth it in my opinion."

A raised brow in your direction.

"What? Just not something I was interested in pursuing. Was never stable enough for people so.."

Her face softens, realizing exactly what you meant there.

When her hand grabs a hold of yours again, there's a small tingle that runs up your arm.

Instead of commenting further though, you nod your head at the door.

"You hungry?"

She knows you're avoiding it but she's not going to push, not on a first date. She could actually eat though, she hadn't had food since that morning, a little too stressed about the date and also making sure there no possible way for Charlie and Kyra to screw up looking after Harper again.

"Yes, who knew singing worked up an appetite?" It's said in a joking tone, and you laugh with her as you wave goodbye to Aiden and some of the others.

The moment you step outside, the warm afternoon air has set in with a light breeze. You jog over to the door when you get closer to the car again, opening it for her with a cute bow that makes her laugh. God, you could listen to that all day.

"Such a gentlewoman."

You grin and wink at her, before moving to get in yourself.

"Alright, where to next?"

"How's seafood sound?"

Katrina's face lights up.

"And you just became my favourite person. Seafood sounds perfect, lead the way."

Your laugh gives her butterflies and she swears her heart stutters for a second.

"Yes Ma'am."

And with that, you drive for about twenty-five minutes to a place closer to the water. A little restaurant you'd picked up on while out with your sister.

Katrina's hand is in yours the second you pull out onto the road, her fingers interlocking yours. You graze your thumb gently over the back of her hand. You talk about her early days as a player, her days in the academy and you almost get into her being asked to play somewhere when you pull into a spot.

The restaurant is a quaint little spot, beach themed, because of course it is, and a bar stands on the outside facing the water. Stools line the counter and the waft of cooked fish blows your way in the ocean breeze.

"This place is so good. I come out here when I need to process and just get away, even if it's not too far from home."

"Smells good too."

You wander up to the bar and take a seat behind one of the extended counters meant for two people with the bar window to your right and Katrina sits on the other side.

You order from the employee through the window and get your food without issue.

The woman's soft groan from her first bite makes this worth it.

You chuckle. "Good, right?" She covers her mouth slightly, cheeks reddening as she nods.

She swallows. "Seriously, where the heck do you find these places?"

You shrug, "Honestly, I have no idea, I like to think luck has something to do with it."

"Luck?"

"If, and this is gonna sound bad, I don't really do it so much anymore, but, if I'm having a rough day or I'm feeling lost or just, I need a breather, I tend to wander out into the world for a few hours. Furthest I've gone is like, four hours further inland. Exploring has always been my mental stabiliser. Keeps me cool, keeps me calm when I'm stressed. I don't crave it, and I don't expect it when it does happen but it just kind of happens."

"Where's the worst you've ended up?"

"Well, there's been a few and honestly in my younger years I was kind of stupid too, so I've ended up where I really shouldn't. I was down in Melbourne for four months when I was twenty. In the last month I was there, I ended up wondering somewhere on foot. Keep in mind, it was just a crap way to go about it."

You kind of look off into the waves as they crash.

"But, I ended up being fired that day by a contracting company, they decided they didn't like the fact I was so young and that I wanted more for my qualifications than 10 bucks an hour. So I just left my apartment. Ended up with a missing wallet and a black eye. Turns out my dumb ass had walked where it shouldn't have and pissed off some gang members. After that one, I moved back home again to just focus on my studies."

"I'm sorry that happened. What about the best place you've been?"

You wave her off.

"Honestly, I'm past that. That's nothing. I'm lucky, but it was definitely my dumb ass that got caught out. As for the best place? I mean, Aidan's place. We met while in Uni and I stumbled into the bar one night after a rough day about two years later. He picked me back up and we became buddies after that."

"Alright, what place surprised you the most?"

"The four hour one, I wasn't expecting to find much. I found something, though. I ended up going on a hike and found this amazing lake that just went down forever. Massive open mouth cave and a waterfall. It just looked so untouched and peaceful. It was so green and colourful and it just makes everything in the city feel so grey."

You push around your food. Take another bite and then gesture to Katrina.

"What about you? Before you had Harper, what was going on then?"

"Depends, which part?"

"Why have Harper?"

"I've always loved the idea of having kids. At first, I kind of wanted to wait until I found someone to have a child with, but in my profession, that just doesn't come easy enough. I ended up out injured and right before I came back. That was the moment where I was like, 'Screw it, with or without a partner, I want my own child.' So I walked into an IVF Clinic in Norway, picked the donor I wanted, and started right away. My timing was perfect, and the first try was a success, and now I have little Harps. There isn't a single day in my life where I ever regretted my decision."

Your hand slides across the table as she talks, her's sat unoccupied, and as you listen, you slowly grab it. Letting it sit in your palm and without much thought, she let's you.

You toy with her fingers, running the tip of your index down each one. And then half intertwine them. She squeezes your hands closed, and it settles you fully for the first time since you moved to Sweden and back. Or before that even.

"She's been a light in my life, I feel so lucky to be her mother, ya know, it's Harper's world, and I'm just living in it. The girls on the national team are so good with her."

Your head perks up at that. National team? You ask exactly that.

"National team?"

Katrina's expression winces, realizing her slip up.

"Oh yeah, that too. I've been playing with the national team since I got called up in 2012."

Your brows raise at that.

"As in..."

"Australia. For Australia."

Oh. That. Was. Not what you expected.

"Wow, that's really big. Congratulations..? Sorry, that sounded weird. That's amazing, though. I can't imagine how much hard work that is. I mean, for real, a kid right in the middle of that, and you come back to play. That must be some strength you've got."

Her head ducks slightly.

"Honestly, I'm just glad it worked out the way it has. Harper has twenty aunts and two unofficial sisters that look at her like she's hung the stars. That and achieving my dream is all I care about. Harper, more so. I think, if having Harper had taken me out. I would've okay with that. I'm perfectly happy with it, actually. If anything, having Harper actually saved me a bit, too."

"How so?"

"I ended up with an infection, and it ended up swelling up the muscles between my two pelvic points. The pregnancy actually completely took out the swelling entirely. The pain just stopped one day and never came back. Even after Harper was born."

"I really admire the level of resilience you have. To push back on any expectation, to say fuck it, if that's what you want, you'll make it happen. It's actually really attractive. I'm sorry you had to go through so much though."

She shaked her head, squeezing your hand.

"I wouldn't go back and change a thing about how it happened. It's turned me into the person and player I am. I don't regret any of it."

You smile, watching her eyes as they flick down to your lips for a second and then away. You don't know if she noticed she did it, but you did.

Your hand loosens from her grip, fingertips tracing her wrist up to the tattoo on her forearm and then back down to her palm. Her skin tingles with every touch.

It feels mildly intimate, and you realise she's been silent this whole time, watching you do this. You look up to meet her gaze, a small apologetic smile.

"Sorry, little distracted, I am listening though. Continue?"

She just gives you a soft smile in return.

"What about where you grew up?"

You ponder for a moment.

"I grew up in a small town in New South Wales, actually. We moved to Brissy later, but that's another story. A place like a couple hours south of Sydney. It's really gorgeous there, I haven't been since I was a teenager but the place was really nice. Most of the folks living there were friendly. The schools were kind of crap but that's just the public system. We had a place in the more urban side of the region. Small brick house, big gum tree in front. Good sized backyard. The town had yearly markets. They were okay. Mostly to bring in tourists, though. It worked, and the place ended up really busy right before we left. I loved it when storm season came around. The rain was always a relief to have after hot summers. I love thunderstorms. The rain always helps me sleep better, too. Just anything rain, honestly."

While you speak, she repeats your earlier actions, fingers trailing gently over the veins in your wrist or the slenderness of your fingers. They trace the once obvious scars left there. They're subtle, but they're there. Years of healing over the top of what she assumed was a particularly dark time for you. Your hands are soft but are mildly scarred in their own right. A small scar above your wrist. A big one across the back towards your thumb.

"The town was a part of a bigger community region. The next town over was known for the museum there for one of the more famous sports folk of Australian history. There was the cricket oval in town, too. Just an average joe half rural town to live in honestly."

Her fingers continue their path around your hand, tracing the creaselines in your palm and the callus that sits just on the inside of your left pinky.

"What about your home life? What are your parents like?"

"My parents were... okay. Not great to be real with you. Hence why I'm staying with my sister rather than my parents. Kicked me out at seventeen and haven't looked me in the eye since."

She feels a small amount of anger flare up in her chest.

"Why would they do that?"

"Same cliché as any. Found out I was into girls over guys. Tried to have me cured. My sister had already moved out when this was going on. She knew they were strictly homophobic and took off the first second she could. I don't blame her for that. When they realised I wouldn't conform to their bullshit, I was kicked out. To experience the cruel harsh world, they said. The assholes just realised their children wouldn't give them biological and 'natural' grandchildren."

You roll your eyes as you remember the disgust and disappointment in your birth-giver's eyes.

"What the hell kind of parents do that to their own child? The one they're supposed to love and protect. And care for. And-"

Your hand squeezes hers, and you push the now empty plates aside to grab it with the other.

"Hey, I'm okay. Im fine. I dont miss them, and they'll never get the chance to miss who I am. They'll never get to hear about who I meet or who I'm with. I'm dead to them for all I care."

Katrina takes a small breath and uses your grasp on her hand to calm a bit before shooting you an apologetic look.

It's the first date, dude. Chill pill. So she tells herself.

Your heart swells at her protectiveness. She really was born to be a good mother.

"I hope they never get to see this side of you. Or who you are and who you'll be in five or ten years."

You blush lightly.

"Thank you." It's a soft murmur, and you duck your head slightly.

She smiles softly, and her thumb rubs at your hand.

You gesture to the worker and hand back your plates, and move to the register to pay.

There's some bickering, but after a sneaky slip of the card to the worker, you end up paying for it. Though that does earn you a soft shove and a whine when she hears the eftpos machine beep.

You chuckle softly.

"We better get going. I've got one more place for us to go, and I want to be there before complete sundown." You say lightly joking.

"Well, come on then!" She jogs ahead with a grin on her face, dragging you with her.

You play your routine part of valet and it earns you a tip, consisting of a kiss to the cheek that's far too close to the corner of your mouth and it makes you freeze for a second. She just chuckles, and you shake your head lightly and shut the door.

"It's about a half hour there, so feel free to pirate the aux cord."

You dig it out of the console and offer it to her.

"Aye aye, captain." She gives you a wink while she plugs in her phone.

You hear a familiar tune, and you immediately shoot her an impressed look.

"You, Ma'am, have amazing taste."

She smirks and nods as she starts singing along to the lyrics.

The drive passes by quickly with both of you yelling to various songs.

There's a small beach cove that opens up to a really nice view of the ocean. And it allows the sun to come down on the majorly clear water with a nice sparkle, too. You'd only come across it about a month ago, but it was a regular spot for you.

There was something else you'd wanted to do for a bit of fun, but it seems stupid now, considering her profession.

When you pull in to the driveway leading up to the spot, she gives you a funny look.

The driveway is completely surrounded by shrubbery, so it doesn't really surprise you.

She makes a joke, "Is this where I'm supposed to find out you're secretly a serial killer?"

You roll your eyes good naturedly and give her a slight push as you get out. She jumps out with you, and you both make your way up the path.

The dirt path turns to sand, and you stop, starting to take your shoes off.

"It's only getting sandier from here, so you might wanna take your shoes off."

She nudges you softly and does the same.

"Yeah, I did have another thing for us to do, but I'm afraid you'll kick my butt if we do it."

She has a mischievous look on her face.

"It was beach soccer, wasn't it?"

You smile sheepishly and give her a slight nod.

"Oh, you're on now. Go get it."

You raise a brow at her and jog to go get the ball and some mini cones.

The sun's just starting to set as you return with the stuff and a bag slung over your shoulder that you'd forgotten to grab.

Katrina's standing there staring out at the water when you walk up again. You quietly set the stuff down on the sand and move to stand next to her.

"You find places like this all the time?"

"Sometimes, it's a hit or miss kind of thing. This one was pure luck because I hadn't even meant to come down this way. It was the next street over."

"It looks amazing out here."

"Water is pretty good too."

She raises a brow in your direction but doesn't say anything. You move to set up the cones and lay out the blanket that was in the bag you had.

The moment you start, you realise how physical playing with her is. You keep up for the most part, but at one point, she wraps her arms around your waist to try and steal the ball and you both topple over, her landing sitting on you, legs either side of your hips.

The smug grin she gives you makes your heart flutter, and you lean up on your elbows.

"You give up yet, newbie?"

You give her a mock offended expression and accept the hand up she offers when she stands.

"Surrender?" You think for a few seconds.

You stride over to her, a mischievous glint in your eye. You lean down slightly and whisper in her ear. Her head tilts slightly.

"I'll think about it." At that, you take off with the ball.

"Oi, little cheater."

You cackle and try as you might to keep the ball away. She ends up stealing it from you. Her foot sits on the ball, hands on her hips as she watches you. You're practically dying at this point, huffing. Man, you needed to hit the gym more.

"Surrender yet?"

You flop onto your back onto the sand and give her a pleading hands motion.

"I think I'm dying here."

She just shakes her head at your antics and drags the blanket over to you, leaving the ball by the cones.

You both settle on the blanket, the sun finally going down enough to enjoy the view fully.

You sit, leaning back on your hands, and she does the same beside you, legs crossed.

As your breathing calms and the late afternoon breeze sets in, the waves start to crash a little more than the tiny laps at the sand that they were.

Katrina sighs softly, taking in the feel of the open air and the salty wind and the smell of harsh greenery.

The serenity of the scene put her more at ease than she'd felt in a while. She sits up a bit and shuffles closer to you, shoulder to shoulder, and nudges you softly.

"Thanks for bringing me out tonight."

You smile, "Thank you for agreeing to come out with me."

"I feel like I should be saying that."

"Maybe, but I'm the one that planned."

"I still asked first." You poke your tongue out at her cheekily, and she just laughs.

"Goof."

You clutch at invisible pearls.

"So mean."

"Oh, I'm sorry." There's a jested look on her face, and she moves to straddle you. Her hands settle on your shoulders, and yours find her hips.

You playfully huff with a half smile.

"Better be."

Her eyes flicker down to your lips, gaze darkening as the air around you shifts, your brow raised slightly when she meets your gaze again. You let out a shaky breath as her hand slides up to cup your cheek.

"Kiss me?" It's mumbled, but she still hears it.

Your lips are parted slightly.

"Don't even have to ask."

She leans down and captures your mouth with her own, and your eyes drift shut. The noise around you drifts away as your lips move together.

Her fingers tangle in your hair, tugging you closer to her, deepening the kiss slightly. One of your hands slips up to settle in the small of her back, holding her against you.

She pulls away from you with a playful nip to your bottom lip. You steal one more kiss, and her hands settle back on your shoulders, pushing you onto your back.

You raise a brow at the spark in her gaze, and she kisses you again, hands settled beside your head.

You stay there for a while. Until you're both breathless and have to come up for air.

Your pupils are dilated, and her hair is slightly mussed from you, having had your hands in it just seconds earlier. Her fingers are tracing at the hem of your shirt, just barely having dipped under the fabric to feel the skin beneath.

Her hands are cold, but they leave heated sensations where they travel along your stomach. It sends shivers down your spine, and you have to resist moving your hands where they probably shouldn't go. Not here or now, not yet.

She has the same thought and has to pull her hands back slightly, going back to settle beside your head.

Her teeth nip at your lower lip again. And you groan softly, going to kiss her again, only for her to pull away slightly, an amused look on her face.

"We're both gonna get in trouble if we stay out here any longer." You look around, noting the sun's gone down fully now, and the sky has cleared to stars, twinkling brightly.

"I forgot, we're both on curfew here."

She slaps your shoulder, a cute pout forming on her face. You kiss it away, and she groans, feeling her phone buzz in her pocket, and she pulls away again.

"Seriously, those two will kill me if I don't get home before ten. They hate being left alone with each other for too long, I have to play referee to keep them from fighting after a while. They love each other, but they get along about as well as sisters do. Plus, Harper is most likely loaded up on ten tonnes of sugar, so I'll be putting her to bed after that, too."

You chuckle, nodding in understanding.

"Mine's gonna report me missing if I don't get home soon too."

Katrina reluctantly gets off you, and you both pack up the gear and walk back to the car, shoes in hand.

The drive back is pretty quiet but peaceful. There's music playing softly in the background.

Your linked hands sit in her lap for most of the drive, and you get an occasional hum out of her as you sing softly along.

You get her home at about 9:30pm, having stopped halfway back to raid an ice cream freezer in a servo and some more kissing in the carpark. Almost reminding you of your teenage years, sneaking around kissing girls in the back of your parents' jeep.

Only this one feels a lot more passionate. Permanent. There's a lot more emotion behind each brush of her lips against yours, and it leaves you aching for more. To feel her pressed into you.

"I'd let you walk me to the door, but I'm afraid Charlie might actually interrogate us both."

It's only half joking this time. Knowing by now, that was well true.

"Let you out with a kiss goodnight instead?"

Her breath is ragged. "Please?"

Katrina's feels like she's addicted to your kisses at this point. A breath of fresh air. Your touch sends tingles through every nerve ending in her body.

You get out of the car, and when you open the door, she hops out and grabs you by the shirt, pulling you down into her, and smashes her lips on yours.

You steady the both of you, one arm leaning against the door frame, the other around her waist while her fingers tangle in your hair.

You finally pull away, leaving one last peck to her lips and a dazed look on both of you.

"Message me when you get home safe?"

"Of course."

She smiles and slowly steps away from you, hands slipping off your shoulders with a lingering squeeze.

"Good night, hot stuff."

"Good night, sleep well gorgeous. Give Harps a hug for me."

She nods and turns back to the house. The door slamming open makes her jump.

"Excuse me, young lady, you're one minute past ten 'o' clock. Why are you late?"

Her face flushes red, and she groans.

"Charlie, I swear to god."

The blonde just shakes her fist at you, still leaning against your car as you watch her go inside. A small smirk appears on your face as you wave to both of them and get back in, driving off.

Katrina brushes past the girl, and she calls out after her.

"You're so grounded"

She rolls her eyes, and as she goes upstairs to find Kyra and Harper, she can't drop the giddy grin on her face as she bids Kyra good night and puts Harper to bed.

Hot stuff❤️🥵

"Hey, made it home, alright. Sister might kill me though 😳😅😂"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"Yeah?"

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"Yeah, turns out she did some digging while I was out... I forget she's a soccer nut sometimes, annnd... well, you can probably guess. 👀"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"Tell her I'm happy to sign anything she wants as long as she leaves you alive. You're not getting away from me just yet."

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"I'll arrange something, I like being alive."

Katrina 🔥❤️

"I like you being alive, too."

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"I like you 👀"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"You better, I don't kiss just anyone on the first date."

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"Does that mean I get a second one?"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"😉 Ask me"

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"Aboslutely beautiful, gorgeous, sweet Katrina, go on a date with me?"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"🤔"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"No"

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

":("

Katrina 🔥❤️

"I'm kidding you dork, of course I will. Call me tomorrow too and I'll plan this time?"

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"Will do 🥰"

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"Sleep tight, gorgeous 😘"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"You too 😘🥰"

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

#katrina gorry imagines #katrina gorry imagine #katrina gorry x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #Spotify

436 notes · View notes

grapementos · 11 months

Text

night terrors

aged up bakugo x reader

cw: night terrors

bakugo doesn't sleep with more than one blanket or pillow. when he's persuaded into participating in halloween, he refuses to wear a full-face mask.

covid was a nightmare for him. he didn't go outside when he didn't have to, which meant plenty of grocery deliveries. masks triggered his anxiety to the fullest, but of course he wore it when he absolutely had to leave the house.

now, you had plenty of opinions and reservations about u.a. and the hero commission, most of them comprised of colorful language and a world full of screaming until you're red in the face.

they ruined not only bakugo, but so many other teenagers that thought they were doing the right thing. they thought they were training to become admirable role models, people who were going to be trained to use their unique gifts to save and protect people. they thought they were going to become heroes.

instead, all they got was ptsd and a handful of other mental illnesses that left them in therapy, on meds, or with debilitating night terrors.

bakugo unfortunately suffered from frequent night terrors. despite therapy and going on 3 years of being medicated for his anxiety, he still woke you up in the middle of the night with throat-ripping screams.

sometimes, you'd find him in the corner, screaming at you to get away, stop, leave him alone. it was heartbreaking.

some days you could gauge when he was going to have an episode. his hands were shakier, eyes unfocused, and his mind was just elsewhere.

today, he was exactly like that, only worse. you could tell his brain was all over the place, and you hated it. you hated how his brain turned against him and forced him to think the worst, most painful thoughts. it bound him to his worst memories, forcing him to relive his them over and over. his own brain.

you did everything you could to assuage the brain fog. you made him tea in the mornings, kept the house tidy, and tried to keep him from performing any heavy tasks. it was difficult, considering he didn't much fancy being helped or taken care of. when it was you, though, he let you.

after a particularly difficult day, the two of you settled into bed together, silent as you faced each other, gazing in silence.

"i'm scared." he whispered, finally breaking the silence.

just a look in his eyes was all it took for you to know it was true. he was terrified.

you placed your hand on his cheek, caressing your thumb over the skin, "i know. it's okay to be scared."

he shook his head, squeezing your hand. he squeezed his eyes shut, breaths quickening as he thought about the idea of sleeping. sleeping wasn't kind to him, and he knew it, because he never, never slept well.

"hey, hey, just breathe, okay?" you breathed deeply to set an example, one slow inhale preceding a lengthy exhale, "like that."

he followed your example, slowly relaxing his features, "yeah, yeah, okay."

"i know you're scared," you whispered, "but no matter what, i'm here. no matter what monster you see, no matter who's out to get you, you're going to open your eyes and it's gonna be me. it'll always be me."

he nodded, wordlessly, and scooted into your waiting arms.

you slept lightly since living with bakugo. that's what made it so easy for you to identify the earliest signs of his episode.

every shift in the bed, every ruffle of the sheets, you were stirring.

so when he sat up, you were half-awake. his steps fully woke you.

you shot up to a sitting position, watching carefully as he stood still for a moment.

"baby?" you whispered, scooting over to the edge of the bed.

no response. he walked over to the center of the room, going stiff.

"kats?"

just as you called out to him, he let out the most throat ripping scream you'd heard.

you jumped on the spot, blood going cold as the shriek reached your ears. your hands shook as you took your first step on the bed, careful to not get too near.

he faced you, eyes open but unseeing. they were glazed over, looking right through you with the most fear-filled eyes you'd ever seen. he was terrified, looking at you as if you had a knife in your hand and a slasher theme following you wherever you went.

"get away!" he screeched, staggering backwards, "get the fuck away!"

your heart shattered at his words, but you knew it wasn't about you. you sucked up your fear, your sadness, and took a deep breath to ground yourself.

"okay, okay. i'm sorry," you spoke calmly, sitting down on the floor cross-legged, "i didn't mean to scare you."

your voice still wavered, still shook with the fear you definitely felt.

he didn't seem to hear you, but your smaller presence seemed to make him feel less threatened.

he was grunting, groaning, crying. his stance was defensive, ready to defend. those hero instincts that he learned as a teenager, the need to protect himself because he was always, always in danger, never left.

that always scared you. the possibility of him activating his quirk and using it on you. but being hurt isn't what scared you--it was the guilt you know he'd feel. you were terrified of him leaving you because he thought he was a danger, or too much to handle. that couldn't be farther from the truth.

you just watched, at least five feet away from his shaking form. you wouldn't touch him, wouldn't yell or panic. you'd just watch, occasionally whispering some affirmations.

it took a while for him to calm down, to stop yelling and crying. about ten minutes later, his eyes went blank again and he walked himself back to the bed and laid down.

you followed him with your gaze and pushed yourself up with a soft sigh. after a moment of processing, you grabbed a water from the kitchen and set it on his nightstand.

you checked him once more to make sure he was comfortably asleep before taking your place next to him.

you watched his face, scanning it for any signs of discomfort or anxiety. nothing. as if it had never happened.

you kissed his forehead, "i'm so sorry, my love. i hope things won't always be like this."

ngl, i have so many opinions on all the trauma these poor kids have gone through, but i like to avoid discourse at all costs. also, i had to do some research on night terrors, so i hope i wasn't too far off.

783 notes · View notes

the-au-thor · 3 months

Note

I have an idea for Spencer Reid x female reader.

Spencer and the reader have a stable relationship. They are going through a stressful period, and Spencer struggles to realize that the reader is reaching their limit because she doesn't want to bother him. But finally, Spencer is there for her, helping her because they love each other.

If you don't like this, it's okay. I'd love to read it tho.

Love !

Hey dear one; sorry for the late very late answer. I've been very busy but I could take time to write a bit of this story on my free time. It was a little tough. I'll be talking about anxiety from my perspective although I am aware it is not the same to everyone.

I know how it feels to have your own enemy living rent free inside your brain telling you all the right things to break you. Keep fighting people! You are doing it fine, your best, don't put so much stress on your chest. Love you!

That day in the Café | Spencer Reid × Anxious! Reader

Word: 1k

Warning: Read this first!

You sat on your knees on the cold floor of the room as you tried to fold Diana's clothes, separating them carefully and leaving in a different pile those that were ready to be discarded. It had been a difficult and long week; Diana had a crisis while visiting you at home, and her psychiatrist conclude that her medications weren't working anymore and she needed a change of her prescription and that would either render her docile most of the time or leave her too disoriented and lethargic to hold a conversation.

When you and Spencer woke up in the mornings to give her the first dose; a cocktail of extremely strong medications, she would babble unintelligible and incoherent things. Every time you saw her swallow her pills heavily, you knew that wasn't Diana. Diana was fire, she was grace, and mental agility. Even with the mental lapses her illness caused, she could hold conversations, argue, defend herself, and string together five words without sounding like a poorly pronounced murmur. You hated seeing Diana like this.

Spencer was also distant; you knew you had to be patient; he struggled to open up with his feelings and above all to express them in a way that didn't make him feel vulnerable. Even with you and after all that time, you had to pick the right moment to remind him that you were a team, that he wasn't alone anymore, and that he simply had to let you in. Plus, you knew the routine would be different. Spencer wouldn't dedicate as much time to you, and it was understandable. After all, it was his mom. But he was forgetting to hold your hand occasionally, or cuddle with you at night while you solved word puzzles and he read his books. He was also leaving dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and if he made a mess, he forgot he had to clean it up. The towels were spread damp over the bed, he left puddles of water outside the shower for you to mop up, and honestly, you were also a bit exhausted. You didn't blame him; his mind was elsewhere with good reason lately. But yours was going to that negative place you had relegated to a very dark corner of your head but whose door occasionally opened to release all those negative emotions, self-sabotaging thoughts, and memories you preferred to forget. Stress was starting to take its toll on you, and you felt alone, you needed someone to hold you while you cried, but you didn't have anyone. And the worst: yes, you had someone, but that someone was too tense with his mother's situation and you didn't want to burden him with more worries. You tried to think of something else as you careful took a look into one of Diana's pajamas to fold it and stack it.

You remembered when Spencer and you were friends; you both fooled yourselves into thinking that was all you would ever be. You went out constantly, keeping a log to keep track of new cafés. One day you were drinking your coffees accompanied by a couple of donuts when he took your hand and told you he loved you. Your heart had beaten as if someone had replaced it with a drum that was constantly being pounded by a pair of drumsticks. You gave him a verbal list of all your flaws, all your traumas, and all the reasons why you weren't right for him. He invalidated each of your points. He wasn't going anywhere. If only he could see you now, you knew he would agree with you. Especially with the way your mind began to scream your thoughts at you, as if they were rioting inside you without apparent order. Your hands were trembling, and your eyes began to cloud over, not allowing you to continue folding the clothes. There, sitting on your knees, squeezing Diana's pajamas without being able to let them go because your mind was too far from your body to send it any orders. Tears ran down your cheeks, running a marathon, quickly slipping down the cliff of your chin and falling onto your bare, warm, and almost thick arms. You tried to do the breathing exercises your therapist had taught you, but you couldn't concentrate. You needed to get out of there; run somewhere. You didn't know what the hell was happening to you. You knew you had to ask for help, but you couldn't speak. That's when the first blow hit your face; your palm repeatedly hitting your forehead and then slapping yourself until the relief of the pain in your reddened cheek appeared, but that wasn't enough. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't stop. You kept hitting yourself until you managed to get up and sit on the bed as you tried to breathe. You walked quickly to the bathroom and tried to clean your face in a small oasis of peace that you didn't know how long it would last; you could feel the next panic attack beginning to boil in your chest. Your hands squeezed the porcelain of the sink, and you resolved to get out of there; you walked through the living room, taking the house keys and your jacket before announcing that you were going to visit Penelope. Spencer looked at you from his desk and left his office to catch up with you at the door, with a furrowed brow and a worried face. He took your shoulders, stopping your departure knowing that something was wrong because you didn't want to look him in the eye. He saw the trail your tears had left on your face, the tip of your nose red, and then the marks on your cheek and forehead.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, but you were unable to speak. He enveloped you in his arms and began to trace circles on your back, massaging between your shoulder blades and lower back. "It's okay; cry. Let it out," he asked, beginning to hear the crying come out.

It seemed like you had so much, that the sobs bottled up in your throat made it hard for you to breathe.

"I-I'm s-sorry so much. I hate crying," you murmured between uncontrollable tears, feeling Spencer stroke your hair, burying his fingers and massaging your scalp.

"We're made for that. You don't have to apologize, breathe, my love. Here; listen," he said softly as he lovingly guided you to his chest so you could hear his heartbeat.

At first, the frequency wasn't noticeable, you were too aware of yourself for that, but slowly the sound of his heart managed to overpower the volume of the screams inside you, and you felt your breathing becoming easier. Spencer's hands firmly squeezed your shoulders, and you felt his fingers giving affectionate massages.

"What happened?" he murmured as he continued holding your face against his chest.

"I d-don't know," you murmured still with a trembling voice. "I was folding Diana's clothes for the clinic, and then I started to..j-just feel too much" You heard his sigh, and then a soft kiss on your forehead, brushing his lips against your skin. You felt his warm breath collide against you, and that seemed to calm you even more.

"My love, I told you to rest," he remembered with an almost tired whisper, "you've done too much this week."

You shook your head frantically, feeling more tears coming out of your eyes. "I feel like I can't do anything right lately."

That managed to make Spencer let you go to take your face in his hands and look into your eyes as he wiped the tears from your cheeks. "Are you kidding? You've done too much this week. A-and I...my love; you've done things you shouldn't be doing. She's my mom."

You frowned slightly before defending your position.

"I love Diana, nothing I've done has been out of obligation. I do it willingly. It's just that...I-I feel so bad doing it because I know that if it weren't for her new treatment, she would be perfectly fine, and she wouldn't feel like I'm invading her personal space every time I help her bathe or dress."

He nodded several times with a tired half-smile, resting his forehead against yours.

"I know. I understand. I'm sorry."

"And I think that she has been through this before, and you've had to take care of her alone, and it's not fair. And now I'm worrying you just because I can't be s-strong enough," you felt his fingers caressing your cheeks and jawline as he kissed your face softly.

"Don't say that," he spoke almost sadly, "it's a very difficult situation."

"You're handling it well."

"No, I've been through this before, and every time it's a challenge."

You frowned touching his face with the palm of your hand.

"And why...? Why didn't you tell me?"

He seemed to hesitate before answering, "Because I didn't want to worry you."

You slowly pulled away from him, feeling your eyelids beginning to feel heavy from crying.

"I didn't want to either," you whispered and shook your head tiredly, "this won't work if we don't talk."

He nodded slowly. "I know."

"I know you don't want to worry me, but by not telling me anything, you isolate me, and I feel like a burden, like I'm not doing anything to help you." Spencer looked at you regretfully and shook his head vigorously.

"Sweetheart, no. You're spectacular; you do things that I wouldn't think of. You cleaned mom's closet, you washed her hair, you cut it, and painted her nails. I wouldn't have thought of that, believe me."

"But I want you to trust me; you need to tell me what's happening here" you placed a finger on his forehead and your palm on his chest "and here" He nodded, placing his hand over yours gently, and you felt the warmth of his palm on your skin "I know you've done this alone all your life, and I know it's going to be hard to share your feelings with me. But I'm here for all the time, and if y-you can accept my panic attacks and intrusive thoughts, I want you to share with me the ugly and the painful." Spencer's eyes read you for a good while before speaking again. He hugged your hand with his and brought it to his lips.

"I've been pushing you away lately, haven't I?"

You nodded "But I know it's because you've been worried"

"No," he denied, "I was selfish. I only thought about mom and licking my own wounds like a sort of solitary bear. I didn't take into account that this is new for you, and that you would feel overwhelmed. Really, my love, forgive me. You're right: we're a team. And I've been just... not cooperating at all"

"I don't want you to blame yourself, please," you pleaded almost begging.

"No. But it's something I have to fix. I'll call Pen and ask her to come; mom's sleeping and she'll be doing it for a while" he searched for his phone in his pocket and began typing rapidly on the screen "We're going to take a little trip to an old friend's cabin, and on the way, we're going to talk: find a blanket and a coat. I'll do something for us to eat when we get there," he began to walk through the living room, and you watched him standing halfway. He stopped and furrowed his brow "what's wrong?"

"I don't want to leave Diana," you stammered nervously, "not because of a panic attack."

He approached you in giant steps and took your face in his hands again.

"For years I kept my friends away from my private life. Especially from what concerned mom. I isolated myself and growled and dismissed any help the guys offered. Because I'm her son, and I didn't care about sacrificing myself," he offered you a brief kiss to look at you again "But now I have you, and I'm not willing to sacrifice you. I love you, and I also have to take care of you" he planted another one of his kisses on your lips, but this time it lasted a little longer "let's put some ice on your cheeks, okay?"

You nodded.

"I love you. I will take care of you too"

He brushed the tip of his nose against yours and smiled "You are already doing it" then you heard the doorbell, and he kissed you once more before stepping away. "I told you, right? At the café: that there was nothing that could make me stop loving you or push you away, right?"

Your chest still felt somewhat tight, and you knew there were still many tears inside you waiting to come out, but still, it made you smile. And there it was; everything your mind had fabricated, the fears and self-sabotaging thoughts started to slowly fade as Spencer held your hand all the way to the old Gideon's cabin near the woods. And that night Spencer cuddle with you while you talked. And you knew everything was gonna be alright.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid au #criminal minds au #diana reid #spencer reid blurb

195 notes · View notes

paper-mario-wiki · 1 year

Note

I don't know if you've talked about this elsewhere already but was the break from streaming intentional and/or are you planning on returning to streaming some time in the foreseeable future? no pressure, I just miss your silly antics :o)

felt very burnt out from being someone who people are always lookin at all the time mostly! (and also a lot more reasons)

got a new job that pays just as well as streaming (which is enough to pay for rent in seattle with roommates, buy food for myself, and sometimes buy yet another japanese gamecube via online auction), and have been enjoying the feeling of not relying on anonymous teenagers and young adults who are just as poor as me on the internet for my income. It's something i was extremely grateful for, but it's not only a very infirm way to generate revenue on a reliable basis, but also i always felt an ever-present sense of guilt for it. like, instilling within other people who i know are in my tax bracket (one that is below the poverty line) the idea of "hey if you dont tip me for doing this free service, the quality of which is damningly subjective, I will be homeless. but no pressure haha" is something that i was never able to shake.

also like. performing is quite draining for me! the way i portray myself in my streams is EXTREMELY extroverted while, in my personal life, i prefer to spend 8 to 14 of my waking hours every day by myself in my room with my dog. i like the quiet, and i feel at peace most when i am not being perceived by other people.

lastly, i really dislike having inordinate levels of social power. for a several reasons. like, SEVERAL reasons. this is the longest section of this post.

8 years ago, i got way more famous than any 16 year old should ever be when i got tens of thousands of followers overnight for doing undertale shit. and i think it really fucked up my ability to make friends at a time where my only experience meeting new people was at school or at church, and i lived far enough out in the woods that i couldnt just go outside and hang out with the neighbors cuz the neighbors lived a mile away. my socializing skills in general are way more stilted than i'd prefer for someone my age. in private settings ive got my foot in my mouth a lot. and sometimes in public settings too! im sure if youve seen streams ive been on, youve seen plenty of "chase you really shouldnt have said that" moments. and youre probably right, i probably shouldnt have! my moment-to-moment gauge for what i should and shouldnt say is very slow to catch up cuz ive got like. advanced mental illnesses. like, im not joking when i say ive been formally diagnosed several times over by different doctors with shit ive never heard anybody ever talk about, online or otherwise.

i dont think that's an excuse to say heinous or cruel things by any means of course, but i also think that i should not rely on a job where there's constantly a microphone in my hand and an audience listening intently to what i say. im not at all pulling the "its okay that i say mean things because im mentawy iww" card. as a matter of fact i think it's not okay that i say them! and i feel very embarrassed when i do! the filter that separates "normal healthy thoughts" and "intrusive unhealthy thoughts" is thinner and more flimsy in my brain than in others.

ive only gotten this far because i surround myself with very smart, patient, and kind people, and by trying to be understanding and patient with others too. and ive begun apologizing to people a lot more. i dont like it when people are mad at me, and i dont like that for a long time i had professionally painted myself into a corner where im typically always the "heel" in comedy settings, because the "heel" is the guy everyone shits on all the time. i got this reputation not because i actively enjoy being mean, but because i learned to adapt to the aforementioned "clinically unreliable intrusive thoughts filter" by realizing i would say things that came across as mean, and in real time exaggerating that it into a character that people could shoot back at without feeling guilty while still having fun. theres nothing that ruins a good time quite like someone who is constantly apologizing for doing something wrong, and then continuing to do that wrong thing anyway. dont misunderstand, i absolutely adore dunking on weenies when everyone can get a good laugh out of it (like tumblr anons, who i think should be classified as prokariyotic invertebrates and not people (no offense)) but even though it's a joke it still feels very bad when that's expected of me when i walk into a room. because if i walk into a room, and everyone expects me to be an asshole, everyone is on the defensive before i say anything, and sometimes they take shots at me when im not trying to "play". even worse, if im a heel in a setting where it's expected of me and someone cant really keep up with "the bit" then that just means im being an asshole to someone who cant or doesnt have the energy to fight back. and not just any asshole, an asshole who has had nearly a decade of professional experience being a paid asshole.

if im being frank, i dont know if i'll come back in a full capacity. i might! im not ruling that out! and you'll probably still see me pop up in my friends streams, because i did LOVE what i did for a very long time! but after i took my "break" in december after being more stressed than ive ever been, and i knew it was no longer financially necessary for me to livestream, i had the thought "i will go back to streaming when i find within myself a desire to do so" and ya know what? i havent yet.

and DO NOT FUCKING BOTHER MY FRIENDS ABOUT THIS. if you post a fucking "hey have u heard what chase said" message in their chat or in their DMs or anything, im not joking when i say you are actively being the kind of person i changed my career to avoid! fuck you, for real! stop trying to interface with them to get some new piece of information or opinion about me you fucking weirdo! they'll talk about me if they want to, but going to someone who is doing their own thing and asking them to instead comment on someone else it is ALWAYS fucking annoying. if you want to think about me, do it by yourself! or ask me directly! or do it in the comment section of a video im in! or write a fanfiction about me and then throw it away!

but if ur not that kind of person then ur cool dont worry.

anywho! im sorry if this is a bummer to read. but that's the full skinny.

im still posting regularly on twitter (clown_depot)! and if i DO go live, either on my twitch channel or on a friend's stream, it will be posted there!

thanks for watching :^]

im not goin radio silent, im just gonna turn off the electric window that lets people see me for a while.

#the man with no face

466 notes · View notes

emithecharmer · 1 year

Text

Lotte World

(Amusement Park), Friends to Lovers, fluff, kissing scenes, teasing between friends, jokes about being mentally ill

Sorry for any mistakes!!!!!!

"Ooh they have cotton candy too!" Jisung laughed at your excitement, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, trying to keep you close to him. It was crowded at Lotte World, but after you told Jisung that you'd never been, he made it his life's mission to be the one to bring you.

"Oh! We should take pictures too!" You said, moving towards the booth.

"We should do it at the end, then our smiles will be the biggest." Jisung said, leading you slowly away from the photo booth.

"Ah," You pat his head softly, leaning on his shoulder, "what a smart man you are, Han Jisung." He preened.

"I try." He chuckled.

"What's the plan for tonight?" He asked as you two were sitting down in the food court.

"Hm..We could have a movie marathon." You suggested.

"No Twilight though.." You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes.

"Wouldn't be much of a movie night without Twilight." He groaned at you, putting his head into his hands, but you saw the smile.

"We can watch Howl's moving castle first, so you can replay it in your head." He jerked his head up, brows furrowed.

"I think you underestimate my ability to quote that movie, word-for-word." You laughed, throwing you head back slightly. Jisung's eyes practically sparkled as he watched you give him a detailed plan for the rest of the day, only butting in a few times to help you out with directions.

"Arcade!" You squealed, running behind Jisung and watching him play a game he was 'an expert at.'

" 'No, Y/n, I'm great at this game!' But then he loses." Jisung pursed his lips and pretended to be offended.

"Poor bay-bee." You exaggerated.

"Baby?!" He turned to face you.

"I'm older than you!" He continued.

"Technically, yes, but mentally, I'm older." You said, making him scoff.

"Mentally, you're ill." He said, making both of you burst into laughter.

"Tell Minho to never cut his hair, please." You said, making Jisung snort.

"I'm not supposed to tell you, but I'm your only friend, so who are you gonna tell," You deadpanned but he continued anyway, "Minho has a haircut scheduled." Your jaw dropped and you pretended to cry.

"Life is so unfair!" Jisung giggled at you as you wiped your fake tears, giving a very exaggerated sniffle.

"Where's somewhere you've always wanted to go?" You asked Jisung as he lead you both to where the photo booth was.

"Hmm, your house." He wiggled his eyebrows, making you snort.

"You've already been there." He shrugged.

"I don't know..I think I have everything I want." You nodded, not seeing the way his eyes quickly darted to look at your face, and the small smile on his lips.

"Ok, pick a style, and then pick the sticker you want on it..Not that one." You chuckled as Jisung gave his input.

"Okay, now look here.." He pointed to the camera before hoisting you onto his back.

The first picture was you on Jisung's back, holding up a peace sign and smiling brightly into the camera.

The second was you both making finger hearts and tilting your heads slightly toward the other.

The third Jisung brought you in for a back hug, confusing you a bit, but you held onto his arms and smiled nonetheless.

"Can I try something new for the last picture?" He asked.

"Yeah, of course!" You answered, unknowingly, before smiling again at the camera.

The fourth picture was you both smiling at the camera, although Jisung's mind was elsewhere.

The fifth, Jisung pulled you close to him, tilting your head up, and smiling down at you. You immediately knew what the sixth picture would be.

"I love you." He whispered before kissing you softly, hand on the back on your head, stroking your hair softly.

The sixth picture. Your first kiss, your first love confession, and your first of many Lotte World dates with Han Jisung.

413 notes · View notes

zoroshark · 11 days

Text

Hey! This is Zoro coming with an update about my health as quite a few things have happened the past couple of months. As some may know, I've been dealing with chronic pain and illness since February of last year as mentioned in this post here.

A quick summary of it was that I have been dealing with constant bladder and stomach problems suddenly that were disrupting day to day life as they were painful and constant. Despite the multiple hospital visits, nothing was really done and at the time I could only wait to see certain specialists (which required a lot of money to see). Recently however, I finally got an answer to what was causing me pain in one part of my stomach! The culprit was my gallbladder and it has been removed!

The rest of the post will be caught off so for those who want to read in more detail, but one issue has been solved (at least i hope so)!

I also want to note here and thank everyone who's been supportive of me during this rough patch in my life. I also want to thank those who sent money for the GoFundMe! However, due to a few circumstances which will also be explained in the read more section, I will be refunding it all to those who donated.

TLDR version of my reason is that I was advise to do so for the eligibility medical/financial benefits I've been looking into. The refunds should be sent in about a week, so keep and eye out!

TW for Medical related subjects such as surgery.

For what was causing me pain in my stomach, or at least one of the reasons:

Turns out I had gallstones that somehow CT scans and ultrasounds didn't pick up last year, despite the pain and discomfort I was in from them. It got to the point where the pain was so unbearable, I was crying for about 2-3 hours before going to the ER. They found one stone had thicken walls through the ultrasounds and my gallbladder was infected from these stones.

Because of the findings, I underwent surgery to completely remove it during my stay in the hospital. I am now close to two weeks post-op and so far it has relieved most, if not all, of the constant pain I've been in my upper right. While I still have issues elsewhere in my body, it feels nice to have one issue solved. I just hope I don't need another trip to the ER anytime soon.

As for the detailed explanation for refunding the GoFundMe donations:

A few months back I after the go found me, I was accepted in a financial assistance program that made doctor's visits way cheaper. From close to hundreds of dollars to 3 dollars, that was way more an affordable price range for me. Despite that, i kept the donations on hold just in cause anything changed or something wasn't covered by the program until now.

Along with that, I've been applying for disability as I am considered disabled by my psychiatrist due to my mental health. After talking to a few folks who knew about the system, they mentioned that the money from the fundraiser could harm the process in gaining these benefits. Their recommended course of action was to refund the money as a precaution, so I'm following their advice. After the refunds have gone through, I will be closing the fundraiser.

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

Again, I want to give a massive thank you everyone in general who have supported me through all this. Its been difficult, especially since I had to accommodate to the pain and changes in my body. There has been MANY ups and for sure downs, but I'm still holding on!

Thank you for reading on this update, and expect to see me slowly become active again on here! I'm still in my Zonai phase so expect more content revolving around that, along with possible Zora content. Original works not involving fandoms will also (hopefully) be posted too!

Im also thinking of opening commissions in the future! I'll need to ask about that first due to what I mentioned above, but as far as I'm aware, I should be okay to do so (but don't quote me on it). So keep an eye out!

#zoro rambles #health update #tw medical #gofundme update #lifes been freaking rough man #i still have these other issues giving me problems #but one thing at a time i guess #long post #feels weird thinking I don't have a gallbladder anymore though #I gotta be more cautious about my health now

29 notes · View notes

chthonic-cassandra · 1 month

Text

Recent books, fiction -

Emma Cline, The Girls - a teenage girl in the late 1960's ends up on the outer edges of a Manson-like (very closely Manson-like) cult. This was okay, but not great, falling too often into cliches about teenage girlhood and lacking a sharp understanding of cult dynamics. By basing the fictional cult in the novel so closely on Charles Manson's Cline gets to handwave a bunch of things about how and why it works, but the seams in the construction show through anyway; Cline's understanding about what leads people to join and stay in these kinds of groups, and how the internal dynamics function, seemed to me persistently surface-level. The strongest part of the novel is the protagonist's potent desire for one of the closest inner circle girls in the cult, which is the reason she becomes entangled much more than any draw from the cult leader himself. There was something interesting there, if Cline had focused on it, and something interesting too in the hints about our protagonist's solitary experiences of lesbian masochistic desire, but this thread was resolved in a way that felt to me disappointingly simplistic. The hints about our protagonist's adulthood following her experience of the cult are also flat, without the messiness of what it can mean to survive that experience. Worth reading as an example of a fictional depiction of organized abuse, but not a great one.

Mona Simpson, Commitment - family saga novel following three siblings as they make lives for themselves following their mother's depressive breakdown and institutionalization in the early 1970's. This had some flashes of clarity and insight, but fizzled out quickly into banality. There were some things that Simpson wanted to say about pragmatism vs making art, and about living in fear of mental illness, but it all got sanded down. The depiction of 'mental illness' is also two dimensional at best. This suffered especially for me in proximity to a recent read-through of The Frederica Quartet, which deals with some similar themes with an incomparably greater level of complexity and beauty. While this novel wasn't terrible, the fact of how lauded it has been made me feel cynical about the state of contemporary literary fiction.

Dion Fortune, Moon Magic - a hilarious but less than successful chapter in my weird journey of reading Fortune's fiction work. Like The Sea Priestess, to which it is a loose sequel, this novel centers around a blatant Dion Fortune self-insert initiating a repressed professional man into sexualized spiritual enlightenment. Unlike The Sea Priestess, Moon Magic is told largely from the point of view of said Dion Fortune self-insert, which brings the narcissism levels up to the nearly intolerable. Left unfinished at Fortune's death, the final chapter was written by her friends which was also not a great choice.

Melody Razak, Moth - a left-leaning, intellectual family in Delhi struggles to cope with the cataclysmic violence of partition. Stepping back from this book there are elements of it, and of the way each character was drawn, which I appreciate, but I felt consistently uneasy reading it, so much that I put it aside for a week in the middle, which is unusual for me. There was something about Razak's narrative gaze which felt exoticizing in its hazy simplicity; this maybe has to do with her conviction to "tell the untold stories" of women who experienced violence during partition, which I don't think is ever a great way to go into a fiction project for reasons I have written about elsewhere. However, the intensely brutal violence of the final section of the book somehow landed for me more as a reader; I don't actually know how I feel about the representational ethics of it, but something about the extremity brought it to a narratively more effective place. I'm still trying to sort through why.

Stacey D'Erasmo, The Complicities - after her husband's conviction for fraudulent business practices, a woman moves to a town in New England, opens a massage practice, and gets emotionally involved with a beached whale. Ugh. This was very bad, and I don't know how it ended up on my to-read list. Flat, simplistic prose style, irritating narrative voice, unlikable characters. Whatever.

Kikuo Tsumura, There's No Such Thing As an Easy Job (trans. Polly Barton) - genuinely hilarious satire on Japanese capitalist culture. A young woman, burnt out on her previous job (the nature of which isn't revealed until the end, which was an effective choice for me and so I'm not spoiling it), seeks to find a form of employment that will require the least possible from her intellectually and emotionally, ending up in increasing surreal work situations. This kind of book often doesn't work for me (I'm not a big humor person), but this was sharp and understated and very good. The section at the cracker factory in particular had me trying ineffectively to explain its hilarity to people around me. Recommended.

Catherine Lacey, Biography of X - in an AU United States where the southern states seceded in the mid-twentieth century, a newly widowed woman attempts to find out the truth about her wife, a notoriously secretive and manipulative artist. This was ambitious in its metafictional conceit and had a premise that intrigued but ultimately didn't live up to its promise. The world-building of Lacey's AU felt implausible and insufficiently developed; there were so many aspects of it that didn't land, like the distracting use of real-life figures or the total lack of critical analysis around race and gender. If the AU premise had been removed and the focus kept tighter on the central relationship it might have worked, but there too we just didn't have enough to go off of. This mostly just made me wish I was rereading Siri Hutvedt's The Blazing World, a much, much stronger metafictional depiction of a female artist, which maybe I should do.

Mariana Enríquez, Our Share of the Night - in Argentina during the period of military dictatorship, a young father attempts to save his son from the abusive group of which he has been a part since childhood. I loved this book so so very much. As a horror novel, as a depiction of organized abuse and intergenerational trauma, as a representation of the ways that state and interpersonal violence repeat and mirror. It's not a perfect book - I think that the last third could be tightened and shifted in certain ways - but what it's doing is so strong and specific that I don't mind. I sort of want to buy a copy and reread it right away. Strongly recommended, with the content note that it is a very emotionally plausible and unsparing depiction of its subject material.

#books #trauma frameworks

33 notes · View notes

xdarkestdesirex · 19 days

Text

When Faith Meets Juvenile - Chap 3

This is a Dale Holt x reader story. There's no (y/n) insert. I'm just avoiding the use of the reader's name, and it is female-based. There are hints of physical appearance but nothing in-depth.

This writing contains highly sensitive content like violence, drugs, the use of weapons, abuse, mental illness, hostage situations, talk of suicide, religious abuse, smut, and other mature themes. Reader discretion is advised. MUST BE 18+ TO INTERACT.

I do not allow anyone to copy, alter, or repost my work as their own.

1681-word count

Two months later

The first week of my senior year of high school has finally ended. I sat in the school library, polishing my outline for the school year. Every year, I create a timeline from the syllabus’ I get from my teachers to make sure I’m getting things done on time and staying on track with my schoolwork. My list this year wasn’t very long since I got ahead of my classes in the previous years. I technically only have three classes every day, but I still show up when school starts and leave later than most kids; ever since that one Sunday two months ago, my parents have had me on extreme lockdown. I haven’t been allowed out of the house to see friends and could only go places if one of my parents took me. The way they’ve been treating me is suffocating, and James, my brother, is loving every minute of it. They usually treat him like this for about a week or two when he gets in trouble, but I feel like they won’t stop with me.

So I did what every average teen would do; I lied and told my parents I took some extra classes, so I would need to be at school all day. They loved that. Being here gave me the space to be away from them. The clock struck five o’clock, and I began packing my things to head outside. As I was about to exit the library, the librarian told me my father had called, saying I would need to walk home as he needed to be at the church, and my mother could not pick me up. For the past week, my father would be outside the library for at least thirty minutes before I would come out. I think he was trying to see if I would try to sneak back to the library from elsewhere. I never told them what happened and who I was with that fateful Sunday evening. I’m sure my father imagines the worst-case scenario, and I will let him believe whatever he wants.

Thankfully, I had my MP3 in my bag, so I pulled it out, put my headphones over my head, and blasted my music while I walked on the sidewalk. The sun was setting on the horizon, creating a beautiful painting of pinks, oranges, and yellows in the sky. The air was starting to get cool at night, and the faintest shiver ran down my spine. I was coming up to a mini market that sold various snacks, drinks, alcohol, and cigarettes when I saw a familiar-looking truck. Without realizing it, my feet started to move in the direction of the car. I couldn’t fully see who was in it, but I could see a man’s head. Their hair was brown, and I could see a white t-shirt clinging onto their shoulders. A muscular arm fell out from the driver’s window, holding a cigarette with smoke billowing out into the air. When I got close enough to see the guy’s face and confirmed it was Dale, I stood there staring at him, not knowing what to do next.

“You just gonna stand there and stare at me, Doll?” He said while blowing out another cloud of smoke.

“I-uh, sorry,” I said. He probably thinks I’m a creep now.

“Did you want something?” His face turned directly at me, showcasing a dark bruise surrounding his eye.

“Are you okay?” Concern arose in my chest, and I instinctively moved closer to him. My arm reached out to crease his face, but he swatted my hand away with a stern look.

“It’s none of your fucking business.” He spat.

I was slightly hurt by what he said, but at the same time, it wasn’t my business. I shouldn’t have expected him to tell me anything when we barely knew each other. Without responding to him, I reached into my bag and grabbed my notebook and a pencil. I wrote the number to my family’s phone, ripped the paper from my notebook, and handed it to him. “If you ever want to talk, here’s my number. My parents are strict, so just say you’re in my class and we’re working on a project together. They won’t question you.” It took him a moment before grabbing the paper. “I have to go. Hopefully, I’ll hear from you soon.” He didn’t say anything else as I walked away.

It didn’t take me much longer to arrive at my house. When I walked in, my mother was finishing dinner, and my brother sat at the dining table with his collage work spread about. He attended a Christian college just a few hours away from Two Rock, studying to become a pastor like our dad. When he announced what he would do, my parents were ecstatic, and my father had already bragged about it to everyone he knew. Ever since James threatened me, our relationship had strained. I always thought he was a good big brother, and I appreciated how he used to look after me. At school, people weren’t the nicest to me, and he would always protect me. He was never rude to me before but would throw side-handed compliments every once in a while. I just thought that’s what siblings did, so I never thought about it, but it was like he saw an opportunity to be better than me. So he took it. It was nice not having him home during the weekdays, but every Friday after his classes, he would drive back home for the weekend. How everything has shifted at home has made my heart hurt in a way I didn’t know was possible.

I walked to my bedroom and set my backpack on my desk chair. Then, I headed into the bathroom and freshened up for dinner. I washed my face to clear it from the bit of makeup I wore during the day and to eliminate any grime that may have formed. I pulled my hair into a braid and returned to the dining room. My brother cleaned his mess up and helped our mother set the table. Across the table sat pasta, spaghetti sauce, salad, and bread. It was my favorite meal my mother would make. Once everyone sat at the table, my brother prayed over our meal, and we started eating. Usually, we would wait for my father to get home before eating, but he informed my mom that he wouldn’t be home until late. “How was your week, darlings?” A question my mom always asked. She acted as the sweet, doting mother in public and at home. I felt like her mask never left. Which was kind of sad to think about because I didn’t know who my mom was. I just knew this persona of her.

“I got assigned a pretty big project in school today. It will take up the whole year, and then we have to turn it in as a part of our final.” I spoke after swallowing my food.

“Well, I don’t doubt you’ll do a good job on it!” My mother smiled at me.

“It’s also a partner project. I gave the guy assigned as my partner our number so we could work on it over the phone together.”

“Thank you for the heads up, sweetie.”

I knew that telling her this in advance would show her I wasn’t hiding anything from them and that working over the phone would be better than going out with some guy. Unfortunately, I couldn’t give him a personal number because I don’t own a phone. My parents don’t think having one while I still live with them is necessary, but they said they would buy me one as a present if I were to move away for college.

“Could your partner’s name possibly be Dale?” My brother said with a devilish smirk.

I stopped mid-chew to glare at my sibling across the table. “His name is Luca Smith,” I flashed an innocent smile at my brother. I used the name of a guy in my class that my brother knew so he couldn’t question whether this person existed.

“Who’s Dale, sweetie?” My mother inquired. My brother opened his mouth, but I spoke before he could say anything.

“Just a guy in my class who doesn’t put effort into anything and relies on others to get him a passing grade.”

“He must have made quite the name for himself if your brother knows of him,” My mother shook her head. She’s acting disapproving, but little does she know James would do the same thing.

“Oh, you have no idea,” James leaned back into his chair. He’s playing a game with me, making one move at a time until he gets a checkmate. And I don’t doubt he’ll get there eventually. Maybe I should just be honest with them? It would be better coming from me than having my brother tell them. He would probably make it out to be something it’s not, which would be even worse. And if I tell them first, it wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of ‘busting’ me. The distant ringing interrupted my thoughts, and my mother excused herself to pick up the phone stationed in the living room. I could only hear faint mumbling and then her walking back to the dining room.

“Honey, it’s Luca,” She extended her slender arm out to me with our Nokia in the palm of her hand.

“Oh, uh, can I be excused from dinner?” I hesitantly grabbed the phone from her.

“Of course! And don’t worry about cleaning up. Your brother can do it for you.” I said a quick thank you and walked down the hall to my bedroom. I bet my brother is happy about doing my chores. Once the door was closed behind me, I sat on my bed and took a deep, shaky breath. Why am I so nervous to talk to him on the phone? Another second passes before I hold the phone to my ear and say,

“Hello?”

AN:

AHHHH, YOU GUYSSS. If you haven't seen my recent news, I'M ENGAGED!!!!! I'm excited about this new chapter of my life, and so many things will change. I will be planning a wedding while also preparing to move halfway across the States to be with my fiance. In a previous post, I mentioned that he's in the military. We'd been dating for a few years before he enlisted, and it was EXTREMELY hard having him gone for about 9 months. So thank you, everyone, for being patient while he was home again so I could give him my undivided attention before he moved. Even though things will be a bit crazy, I don't plan on slacking with this story; in fact, I've been itching to write with all these ideas and storylines just floating around in my head. I'm excited for y'all to be a part of this journey with me and to have this story as my baby through it all, too, lol.

Stay tuned for another post soon 👀

6 notes · View notes

thegoodthegrandandtheugly · 5 months

Note

(Prev, not a confession) I’ll be waiting for this to be published btw. Do your job. Stop this karna favoritism (i would know when my submissions are ignored). you know he’s nowhere near a saint like yall worship. Read the Mahabharata with your brain!

Here is the submission this anon wanted posted so badly, for the record.

I am a very patient person but I am reaching the end of my rope when it comes to the back-and-forth with Arjuna and Karna fans. Your original submission would have been posted without any issue, but being needlessly aggressive to the mods is a good way to get chewed out and not have either of us make your submission into a post. My time actually is valuable, and I am not going to dedicate any more of it to you after this.

There is no "favoritism". We just haven't gotten much, if any, Karna hate, and if you've sent any in off-anon, then we've probably blocked you, most likely for breaking our rules elsewhere. If you're so desperate to know my own personal feelings about Karna, then here: I think he's okay. There are other characters that I think are more interesting. I also think Arjuna is okay.

While many posts ago I did say that I would make up every submission into a post, that has since changed given the step back Mod M and I had to take to reflect on how we want to run this blog long-term. There was a line we needed to draw, and we have drawn it. You just can't see it.

I don't owe you anything and being this overly hostile is a good way to get blocked and have your ask tossed in the trash. Considering we're being accused of Karna "favoritism", I can only imagine you're an Arjuna fan upset about the amount of negativity we've gotten about him, and to this I say: block our blog, and log off.

Your blorbo is not real. He is part of a giant collaborative artistic process featuring multiple artists and multiple writers and within the thousands of fans that FGO has, there are going to be people who interpret him differently than you and dislike him as a character and dislike how other people interpret him. If that offends you so much, that is your problem, and I refuse to let you make it mine. Go outside, and grow up.

This applies to everyone. Your favorite character is not real and being obsessed with them to the point that any negativity directed toward them or their fans causes you a visceral negative reaction in return is not healthy. Fictional characters are part of art, and art is intrinsically up for interpretation, and your interpretation is going to be challenged. Learn to regulate your negative emotions surrounding criticism of your blorbo, and discover actual coping mechanisms. Google is free.

Here, I'll even do some of the work for you. These are the first few links I found. Here's another one.

And if you have trouble regulating your negative emotions due to mental illness, I understand. But that does not give you any right to force it to be my problem. We are strangers to you.

You don't know me. You don't know Mod M. We would like to keep it that way. Neither of us have even expressed our opinions on who our favorite characters are because of how dedicated we are to staying as neutral as possible, or at least attempting something close to it. We don't want our opinions to potentially dissuade people from sending in criticism.

The point of this blog was to create an anonymous confession zone for the FGO and wider Fate fandom that allowed criticism to allow people a space to vent their frustrations about the fandom anonymously, because just as "people should be allowed to like things", people should be allowed to dislike things, and dislike things without fear of retaliation. They should also be able to like things you dislike without fear of being retaliated against, too.

We're not under any illusions we're doing something radical or supremely important. We just thought a space like this should exist within the fandom. That's it.

And if you don't like us, fgocriticisms exists too, and they're a lovely person. I'm sure they wouldn't mind getting your submissions.

This anon is going to be blocked, and I suggest people keep an eye out in the coming days for unnecessary retaliation against some random person within the fandom who likes Karna who might be scapegoated for the crime of not liking something this anon likes, or interpreting something a different way than this anon does. God forbid they harass them for thinking they run this blog.

This is the most pathetic ask we've gotten. For your sake, and ours, I hope you go outside and take a nice walk if you can. Vitamin D deficiency can cause irritability, after all.

-Mod D

Also, we have had a negative submission regarding Karna sent in and posted before, they just don't get traction because they don't mention Arjuna. If you're going to be a hater, at least be dedicated instead of bitching when it's convenient.

-Mod M

#not a post

10 notes · View notes

crowboss-whore · 2 years

Text

Navigation + Rules 🪶

❏. intro -

Hello! Please read this post before adventuring any further <3

❏. about -

My name is Crow. As stated in my quick bio right beneath my profile picture, I go by they/them and I'm 19! I'm deep within the AroAce spectrum but the ones I closely identify with are Demiromantic and Asexual! I go by Pacific Standard Time (PST)! Some might know it better as UTC - 8, however.

I am a college student! So please refrain from spamming me unless I consider you my mutual!

Hello! This is also a sideblog! Tumblr is too pussy to let sideblogs engage in interactions, so if you see someone by the name @uwak-uwak-uwak-uwak that would be my main! Tumblr :) Let me interact with people as my sideblog you pussy fucks <3

❏. rules -

Please don’t harass me about updates on fanfics. I have stuff outside of tumblr and outside of writing. It’s okay if you’re politely asking but don’t pester me about it.

Please use tone tags. I struggle with reading tones over messages. While I am not quick to temper, I still would appreciate them and I'm sure many others would too.

Do not, and I repeat, do not bring controversial topics up in my ask box. I cannot handle that stress! So religion, politics, or my outlook on certain things. I cannot handle the stress that comes with that so I ask for you to refrain from asking. My blog is existing because it's where I can escape from that stuff. This is a fun and nifty place! So do not ruin that for me.

Hate will be deleted. I see no point in harboring it whatsoever. If you have an issue with me, talk to me about it in a civil manner. I'm a person, not a robot. Don't be a dick.

This is a safe space! I don't tolerate bullshit that hurts people. This correlates to the one above; this is a safe space for the LGTBQ+ community. Do not ruin that. I will personally out you if you do! And if you do it on anon, I will point and laugh because there is no reason for you to be an asshole to another person who simply is being a heart.

NSFW is okay— to some extent. If it’s out there out there, I won’t touch it lmao. But sex jokes are funny and I’m okay if you come into my asks and go “I want [character] to throw me over their shoulder and…” yeah yeah. I’m pretty lax with NSFW stuff— sexual or gore— because 1) sex things are kinda funny to me and 2) I love gore.

DO NOT come into DMs if I do not consider you a mutual. I can promise you that you'll know if I consider you a mutual or not.

Do not ask for my discord, that is uncomfortable.

Do not repost my art anywhere. That is final. I only post my art here, on my Instagram and Tiktok, Screeching_Crow_, and on Twitter, Screeching_Crow. I don't use my twitter as much, it's only there so people don't impersonate me. If you repost it elsewhere, I am coming for you. Lock your fucking doors.

Add warnings if you're sending in a drabble or a headcanons or if you're sending in brain-rot and there are themes that should be warned. I do not care if you don't find it triggering. Some people do.

If we’re not mutuals, please refrain from calling me pet names. “Love” and “Dear” are alright! But anything else it makes me uncomfortable.

❏. DNI (do not interact) -

basic dni material (p*dophiles, racist, transphobic, etc.)

those who invalidate triggers

romanticize any form of mental illnesses

proshippers

❏. anons -

🐦 anon, 🪞 anon, abyssal anon, 💮 anon, 🦝 anon, 🏹 anon, 🦈 anon, 🦴 anon, 🐈‍⬛ anon, 🐶 anon, 🔆 anon, 🥔 anon

❏. navigation tags -

A Seer of Secrets - A collection of all Seer of Secrets content

A Seer of Secrets Art - All art connected to ASOS. Fanart, my art, submitted art. All art.

A Seer of Secrets Update - Find all of the chapters here for easier access to whichever one you want!

Thank You! :D

#Intro post #intro page #Crow Talks ࿓#Crow Caws ❤︎ ༄

129 notes · View notes

astridspeckles · 1 year

Text

Archon Quest & The Wanderer tangent + mental health

So I just finished it (I'm so far behind on everything Sumeru it hurts) I wanna just talk about stuff, so spoilers. A few things to note:

Im terrible at writing what I think so this is a random jumble of words lol

I'm not a psychologist/psychiatrist

I do have a very empathic innate understanding of mental health tho- I also have personal experience with it.

I simp for Scara, have from the moment I saw him

I knew roughly the story beats of the quest so I didnt go in blind

- so I had a lot of time to get used to the 'cop out'...

This is a repost of a thread I made on another site so if you find this elsewhere it me hi

... Which I'll quickly just address. I don't like how at the end he can't be on our side without the complications of what it would of meant if he as his original self would of been --- but im not gonna focus on that, what done is done. I will just say I would liked more if the voice lines people had of him were different- something along the lines of 'I cant remember what happened but it feels like im forgetting something' - but im just going to do is focus on his character development. I believe Scaramouche is someone who would be diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) which is an emotional dysregulation disorder which can heavily impact a person day to day which can effect their relationships with people.

People with borderline personality disorder may experience intense mood swings and feel uncertainty about how they see themselves. Their feelings for others can change quickly, and swing from extreme closeness to extreme dislike. These changing feelings can lead to unstable relationships and emotional pain. [- NIMH Gov]

And I know on tumblr people have more understanding of BPD but those who dont know or care says anything - no, this isn't the "edgy mental illness” I believe Collie is an example of another character who displays BPD as well. Both of these characters I believe are actually fantastic display of BPD?? Though Scaramouche is an example of what happens when it goes unchecked and Collei has made amazing progress to live with it in her day to day. But yes... the Archon Quest. Nahida expected and lowkey planned for it to play out the way it did, and even though that is the exact same manipulation that people have been doing that has ruined people, she did it for Scaramouche, and I cant help but love her a bit more for that. She didn't plant the idea in his head or guide his hand, but prepared for an outcome in case if he acted the way he did and allowed him to do so anyway - her trust in him and the traveler as well as herself to make sure things for him would be okay in the end. She cares for him. She understands his history and I bet she understands BPD and knows how to live with people who live with it too Nahida doesn't concern herself with the complications, the fact people would see this outcome as a 'cop out' or the lack of justice of Scaramouche not having to face his actions. Nahida cares about Scaramouche and that he is hurting and has been hurt. She acted accordingly with stride with no doubts. She never gives herself away, despite naturally and genuinely giving her complete self in any situation. Shes amazing (and someone I hope to be like someday). I love how Nahida has just endless trust and confidence in him and the people she works with. She treats people exactly how she would like to be treated in turn making her someone people would respect and up hold - and is such an amazing archon im so glad shes here.

---

And for someone who is constantly battling to remain guarded- Scaramouche thrives so much with how she treats him - it was amazing. (Although I do wish down to my core that the whole time thing didn't happen because I swear with Nahida and the traveler we could of helped him-- ok ok no I said I wouldnt talk about that topic). But you can see that he's able to be relaxed and confident, but his confidence is being directed in a way that isn't making him defensive! You can see the norm for him which is the exact opposite when he talks to the fatui! Example in the memory where he speaks to Signora - the communication itself is a battle for him. He needs to defend himself and let those around him know he isn't weak. He's constantly treading water, trying to stay afloat- to not be hurt, because he knows no one will hesitate to hurt him. You cannot show that type of weakness - they will see it and strike. And while yes the people who he talks to would of course react in turn to attack him when they are being attacked, if people were able to focus and care for Scaramouche they would acknowledge that it is a factor of his BPD and find ways to navigate these episodes - which we can see, can be done! And that is why he is always acting the way he is. Its a defense mechanism! A vicious cycle. [And I know there are so many players who don't see Scaramouche this way and it makes me actually really sad that they cant see how injuried he is. Every interaction we see him in is him masking and putting on a front, an act, and people think he's all evil because he's a dick. I hope if you see him that way that this thread can at least give you an alternative perspective though] But with that all mentioned... the fact he gave up himself without an instant to fix things... he just wants to do something greater than himself. He wants to help, he wants to make things happen and not necessary because he wants to be great, he just wants to fill in the void he feels. You can see that trauma survivors can have survivors guilt but one way of expressing this is by having an fragile ego believing that you being here means you have a purpose. Of course everyone thinks this but trauma can make it a lot harder to not to regulate your thoughts which can make obsessions more intrusive. He sacrificed himself to do some good after learning the truth within an instinct. To his core he is good. He has done bad and terrible things but he is still being good in these moments, not because he wants to 'do one last thing', but because it is the obvious right choice to do since he has the power to do so. Because they have the power to do so, and they saw a problem that can be helped by them. Nahida and Scaramouche both do this and damn I cant believe that my headcanons for Scaramouche being not evil boi TM actually came true?? First with Xiao and now Scaramouche? I am fed. ...Would someone who has had a history of pain and trauma not want to just erase it? Want to forget it, not want to experience it and not attached to it? Of course. But that ins't possible to do which is where you seek a professional to help you work through things. But yet here we are, and while... I don't like the game narrative of this happening, for a study in a traumatized character it is actually a really interesting path... which I still hate. The equivalent of this is suppressed memories. And I can talk from personal experience- having a memory of a distressing yet alone heavily traumatic situation is majorly distressing and/or soul crushing! Even more so if it is OUT OF NOWHERE. This is not how you recover from your trauma - its the opposite - trauma dumping! My poor boy didn't stand a chance! You even see The Wanderer, the moment I saw him I actually was so distressing for me. You could instantly see how empty he is. He's missing so much of himself. And all I could see up until the traveler talks to him was sadness. -I played it while talking to a friend and she couldnt see this and I swear this isn't because I simp for him though. This came across crystal clearly for me and im actually really shocked that apparently not everyone else did? But once he speaks to the traveler he develops drive and goals instantly. Again, this has always been there and is actually one of the main personality traits he always has on display. Scaramouche has always been the way the Wanderer is. But after we finish the Wanderers task for the stall keep, we see Nahida and Y I K E S we trauma dump him. And this hurt to watch. This isn't how you deal with trauma. "Just rip it off like a bandaid" is not the approach you have to something so devistating... ...and yet for the games purposes it had to be done like this. Lets say hypothetically if the game let the Wanderer slowly and healthily learn Scaramouche's history - he would of be an odd mixture of two people. But he would still ultimately be more of the Wanderer than Scaramouche! he could be able to connect with him but ultimately he would of been able to let him go. But the game could not do that for game reasons. He IS Scaramouche, he needs to STAY as Scaramouche. So trauma dumping it is. So he decides in true Wanderer/Scaramouche fashion that it is his duty to learn the truth. Because this is a drive and motivation and their character at their core would do anything to fix what is right regardless of what is their own consequence. And so he does. And he suffers for it, recalls painful memories and is in agony. ... and yet, when it is all done you can see instantly - "He is back to being the old Scaramouche". And this is where I say no. This is where people aren't seeing him. Scararmouche never left. You just know what to look for now to see his kindness. You just understand when his trauma is making him act up. You are just in an environment where he can allow his defenses not to be activated. The Wanderer has not had a personality change - sure he isn't the soft boy from before, but SIKE he actually is. Or rather, he can be when he chooses and is ready to be. But he'll never be that aimless or hollow ever again, but that wasn't Scaramouche, or The Wanderer, that was a blank state of being of going with the motions knowing something is missing. He'll never be so hollow again, but he will be able to display that unguarding kindness someday. The major change he has had his trauma and burdens are eased and no longer life controlling. He is on the path of recovery and overcoming his history. Scaramouche has always had the ability to be kind and not being evil, but he never had the enviroment where he could do so. He was molded in part to be the evil he became and while he was manipulated to do so, to degrees he did willingly not too concerned if he didnt have the full context. But the Wanderer is and has always been what Scaramouche is, just some people had to actively been shown who he is before they could see it themselves.

#genshin #genshin impact #angst #Scaramouche #the wanderer #wanderer #nahida #bpd #borderline personality disorder #mental health #mental health awareess

36 notes · View notes