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#with how i've been mentally. something like that WOULD happen. poor guy
volk-swag-genitalia · 1 month
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the prophetic dreams are getting much more concerning
#not a joke#so like im pretty damn convinced i have prophetic dreams#except one problem is they're not very straightforward#and i never really realize they are prophetic until its too late#i had a dream my lil brother attended the former school i used to study at and something bad would happen to him#i brushed it off at the time because i thought there would be no way in hell my parents would send me off to this school#years later they enrolled him in.#and well its an average school experience for him. some classmates are absolute jerks tho. but the main event in that dream didnt happen ye#because the main event happens at a school camping event. now im worried my brother would die at said camping event. but hey no camping yet#another instance was when i dreamt we went up the escalator up the mall we used to always go to#it was late into the pandemic at the time so i thought ''no way would we end up going'' but then i woke up to my mom announcing that#you guessed it#we were going to that mall#anyways those are a few instances.#right nowi had a dream i went out to lunch after college and snapped at a man for calling me ''ma'am'' because i mentally could not take it#and im scared now#with how i've been mentally. something like that WOULD happen. poor guy#but also i had a beard. why would he do that?#and the dream was also veryyy vivid.#granted not all of my dreams come true.#and i hope it STAYS that way#anyways aside from that i've also had recurring dreams of the ocean levels rising so bad that my home town ended up flooding and dissapeari#well i havent been having the flood dreams lately#that dream had two outcomes. in both outcomes people have adpated and started building a city that could take in the new environment#in one outcome they managed to build an underwater city to regain what was left of the cities that got submerged. people actually helped ea#h other and people were thriving.#in another outcome#society just ended up the same. all of the problems we had now carried on & we were eaten by the sun. except the sun was an eldritch being?#ok for sure that sun thing wont come true. or would it???#nah. i mean according to what we know of the sun. nah.
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keefechambers · 2 months
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I wanna be blunt about this ongoing James somerton suicide threat issue but I don't want to connect it to my IRL Twitter to comment on the dogshit takes I'm seeing there or the good and well meaning but maybe too kind takes I'm seeing here.
Obviously, I hope that this is a false alarm cry for help fake threat. Yes, it would reinforce that Somerton is a self-centered egomaniac who can't handle consequences but that's preferable to dead.
But I work in local news and let me tell you something. I've covered half a dozen family annihilating murder suicides and heard hundreds of men making suicide threats over police scanners and a huge swath of these don't happen because they're depressed or because people are mean to them on the Internet. They're punishment. A person with an enormous amount of entitlement towards people around them gets backed into a corner and they punish the people closest to them by killing themselves or threatening to kill themselves.
No one wants to talk about this feature of suicide because...you want to help people who are struggling and guide them away from this path and being blunt about the fact that sometimes people die of suicide as a consequence of their own shittiness towards the world does not really help actively suicidal people. But suicide rates are higher in men not just because they have higher rates of untreated mental illness (a societal issue we must address for the sake of all) but because some people, often men, use suicide (but more often the threat of suicide) as a tool of abuse and control.
I'm not saying somerton is like, an icky abuser bad guy, he's just a run of the mill grifter scumbag, but his actions in the past show a clear pattern of escalating behavior that aligns with this.
Somerton gets called out -> somerton alleges physical threats of violence against himself and his fans rally around him supportively -> Harry calls somerton out in a bigger way -> Somerton says he's hospitalized but there are inconsistencies with the story but no one wants to talk about that because you wanna be nice-ish about a guy who just tried to kill himself and now he's trying to be framed as tragic but it doesn't really stick -> somerton apologizes again but his apology is rightly called out for lies and manipulative framing as well as his continuing attempts to profit off the community he betrayed -> James posts a suicide note publicly putting the onus of his own suicide on the loss of his friend Nick who he repeatedly threw under the bus and now everyone is rallying to say nice-ish shit and wring their hands in concern over poor james -> indefinitely repeat this vicious cycle forever until he actually does die or finally gives up and gets real, intensive therapy and a day job.
Thats not to say anyone's concern is misplaced, it's 100% better for him to be a living scumbag than a dead one. He deserves the chance to grow and learn and have a life outside of youtube.
But you don't have to portray this as the action of a sad depressed man who got bullied off the Internet. It's manipulation, whether he intended to go through with it or not and whether someone intervened or not. Not denying that internet bullying is a thing, I'm sure there were some people who were shitty directly to James but he made the choice to not unplug from this and to try and keep being a public figure rather than taking care of himself. He could have deleted Twitter, blocked anyone who was an asshole, gone to therapy and tried to move on with his life but if he'd deleted his channel he'd have lost monetization... Can't have that, right? So he posts some apology videos so his channel stays active and then complains about how ruinous this is while never trying to take real accountability.
But the reality is that people would have forgotten about him so quickly and maybe his job prospects would've been impacted but...that's on him, and that's for him to figure out but it's not actually life ruining. He chose to continue to engage knowing he'd get backlash and hate and he'd feel worse and worse and things would never get better without the time and space for people to forget.
He made the choice to make a public spectacle of his own alleged suicide. That is the action of someone who wants to put the weight of their suicide on someone else's shoulders and is morally wrong. He can be held to account for that, alive or dead.
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avisisisis · 1 year
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I hate it when people make the DC characters feel scared of Phantom. Or when they make them freak out over how crazy his life is
Most of the characters would just go “Oh a Ghost King! That's cool” and either attack, befriend or ignore
They always write Dick to be the responsible one when he's not. If he saw this child he wouldn't go “Omg he's so young!!! Poor baby!!!” he'd go “Oh god no please don't let B see this one” and then “Hey this one's kind of fucked up. I'm going to keep it for a while to see what happens wish me luck🤞”
Or when they make the JL freak out about him. Guys, Flash is able to break reality, time travel, destroy the multiverse and more. If he finds out Danny is Dick's clone or something he'd go “again? How many clones are there?” and just vibe with it
Danny would be so happy to find people who just don't give a shit about how weird he is. He only has his friends and sister and they're just. Three people. This boy needs mental help and everyone freaking out about him isn't helping. He's just vibing with his new also overpowered friends
“Yeah so I'm half dead. I was killed by a ghost portal that opened right where I was, and instead of actually killing me it brought me back to life. I'm a ghost possessing its own body. Sometimes if I feel too weak I'll look the way I looked when I died — with my chest half open and my eyes bleeding. My blood is green. I will probably see everyone I love die. Wild, right?”
“Oh yeah! I've got my own experience with dying. It sucks, man. It's funny for the fastest man alive to not have been able to outrun death lmao. Speedsters also age really weirdly. I'm a married adult with two children but I look like I'm 18. But then later I look like I'm 30. And then 20. And then 40. Sometimes I'm afraid I'll look into the mirror and won't recognize who I see haha”
“Talking about body horror! I don't know if I'm the real me. I've created so many mes (the scout thingies) that I can't tell if I'm the original one or not. Maybe I died, and I'm the only thing that remains of me, and I would never be able to tell. I could be being tortured right at this moment. I could be trapped in the speedforce. And no one would ever know because I'm right here, but if I'm not me then they'd live with an imposter by their side”
“Ahh, body horror. My old friend”
(they're all on the verge of a panic attack)
Danny, glowing with a green light at 3am in the kitchen: Hey what the fuck are you doing here
Green Lantern, also glowing with a green light: I live here you fuck
Danny: Shit this isn't my house??
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🔞 About some EJ's heat headcannons...
Minors DNI please
I don't want to offend any smut creators, just share my thoughts about some of these headcannons.
I've been thinking right now about something I just read about jack spending a week in his bedroom during a heat, and that this was something that could happen very often everytime this dude is in this state. But I can't stop thinking about what happens next and how nasty this guy must be after this period of time. Like, he would be pounding his pillow or his hand or whatever he have, and cuming everywhere for a WEEK, how gross his bedroom would look after, and don't even talk about the smell of this place...
And the worst would see him crawling out his room unrecognizable, all sweaty and sticky and smelling like cum, his hair all oily, and with a worn-out look as if he had just returned from a war, and this is not just because he spent a whole week back in the puberty state, but he also will have a hard time cleaning the mess of his bedroom, maybe he'll even need a new bed. He would perhaps be very weak from dehydration and hunger, and when you look at him you would either be very disgusted or pitiful and would offer the poor guy a glass of water.
And that's just the result, imagine for the people who sleep in the rooms next to Jack's room, listening to the noise of the bed crackling and banging in the wall all night and him screaming like some rabid animal. Imagine going to sleep with these noises, how relaxing and peaceful it must be. 💖
And also there's nothing you they can do, if they knock on his door to tell him to stop or even try to help jack (not in that way you're thinking), these pastas will end up becoming his relief, because that's a whole demon In heat. So in that case is just better prepare some good quality headphones and try to ignore the banging in your wall all night.
I know that most people just imagine him on a heat jerking off like a normal person and not some sort of an unhinged wild animal raping his sheets, but that's not the case for me because I'm mentally ill so sorry for ruining y'all fantasies. 🩷
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weebsinstash · 4 months
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fuck my life but I realized if you make a venn diagram of "all the different ideas I've had for yandere Valentino" with "shit Mammon would probably do or has already done canonically" it would basically be a fucking circle and I haaaaaate that because now it means this selfish australian bastard is under my radar
You damage something when you fall into Hell and be stuck in servitude, working off paying the bill? Uhhhh obviously the greedy money scam guy would do that! Tack on extra bullshit charges like late fees, or charging you more than the damage is worth? Definitely just an excuse to keep you around longer.
Grifting pervert who will exploit you for cash? Mam and Val are brothers in arms. You could be working for Mammon as like A JANITOR and one day this fucking clowning hustler pops up, "oi so, remember that employee contract I had ya sign? So, about that fine print--" and you find out you accidentally like CONTRACTUALLY AGREED to giving him your likeness, and he's been fucking sexbots of you on the fly, just, shamelessly. Is he even selling them for profit? No. They're just for him. Tells you to your face. Lets ya see em. Acts like you're full of shit and tweekin if you even mildly insinuate this means he wants to fuck you and the robots are just a placeholder, that's ridiculous, shut the fuck up, you're uggo, why would he want you
Abusive alcoholic misogynistic pigs who will cut you down and take shots at your self esteem to neg you into obedience? Literally fucking canon. Valentino did it constantly on the Instagram accounts and also does it in the Angel Dust comic, and we saw how Mammon treats Fizz
Both of them would call you a cunt although for wildly different reasons lmao
Absolutely always walking the mental tightrope of "would they pimp you out just for cash and maybe the cuckoldry of it or keep you to themselves" but I think on the off chance Mammon decided to "advertise" you, he would be EXCESSIVE with it. Whatever would make money, but, he's, also totally using it to make and do things for hinself. Sex bots, dirty magazines, photo catalogs, calendars, lingerie lines, ridiculous unrelated sponsorships. You're over here absolutely humiliated while he's thoroughly enjoying his new collection of naughty memorabilia of you. Honestly either of them could do this honestly. I've even thought of the hilarious alternative where shit of you doesn't even sell but Val/Mam/Ozzie whomever decides to keep peddling it anyways because they're obsessed with their baby and they want to show em off to everyone with eyes that can see em
and who can forget the classic... "oh, you just died, poor baby ;) well I could give you a place to sleep for the night, but ;) you'd have to ;) earn it ;)" and whatever you do that night becomes potential blackmail
If I had a nickel for every time there was an abusive perverted four armed creep who exploits their workers for money and sex down in Hell, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it sure is kinky it happened twice
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wosoluver · 24 days
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Ornella x reader where reader got selected for the national team rather then the u20s so her and ornella don't get to spend time together and reader rings in the middle of the bight crying to ornella about the whole vilda stuff and ornella comforts her and then when they see each other again reader breaks down and they cuddle or something like that?
I want to come home
Ornella x Spanish player!Reader
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tw: emotional abuse.
We had won and lost together. We were world champions for the U20 together. It was only natural to believe we would step up to the Absoluta together.
But you didn't.
Ornella was so supportive and so happy for you, but you couldn't help but feel like you were somehow betraying the dream you too shared together.
It sucked being separated. Her in the U20 and you on the absoluta.
As the days came closer to travel to camp, you naturally became more and more excited. It was every footballer's dream to represent their country. It was an honor selected for only a few. You couldn't wait to be there, to play. These would be your golden years!
Arriving wednesday morning on camp, you we're so glad to see Paralluelo. She like you had moved up, and was really the only one you knew personally. But unlike you she was already very connected to most players. Coming from Barça did help. But she knew how you must have been feeling, she was quick to choose you as her roommate. And honestly you were so glad.
During first training you felt so confident, so lucky to be there.
Until you didn't.
And that was about four days into camp. You were trying your best to hold on your own. You didn't want to be the younger player complaining about her chance. You didn't want to seem like you weren't professional. Like you couldn't stand your ground. Like you were too weak mentally to be among those players.
Even to Salma, who you'd usually were very chatty with. You choose to hide it. And pretend it wasn't there. Like it was nothing.
But it was something. Something very concerning to say the least.
When you called her crying in the middle of the night, Ornella panicked. Not because of the time on the clock, you guys always called eachother whenever. She panicked seeing the state you were in.
Eyes puffy, crying without barely being able to breathe.
You wanted to tell her about everything. About how you were being babied by Vilda and his whole committee. At the same time you were forced to withstand their harsh treatment as if you were made of rock. As if you didn't have emotions to keep in check. As if your mental health didn't matter as long as your body was delivering results.
"What's wrong? Are you hurt? Did you get hurt during training today?" - Poor girl, everyone had heard of Vilda's reputation, even though nobody thought it could be that bad. So that didn't come to mind to her. She thought the worse that could've happened was you getting hurt and being cut.
You shook your head no, but couldn't further explain. I took time for you to calm down. But your girlfriend waited patiently.
"It's much different from what I imagined here." - By know the tears were flowing freely. -" I've never been pushed so hard to my extreme"
"What's going on? Talk to me, please."
"I'm so tired, I want to come home." - "I don't want to be waked up in the middle of the night for random check ins." - "I don't want to be timed on how much time I take to eat every meal. I don't want to feel like I'm worthless to the team if I'm not scoring." - you paused for a bit, to try and form sentences that made sense. So you could explain. - "As soon as I arrived the whole staff started to treat me like a kid. Like when your mother goes to an appointment and shows up with an inconvenient child. They treated me like their biggest inconvenience. And that turned into mockery. And I tried to be strong, I I- I didn't want to complain, and be the crybaby once again. I wanted to show Vilda I deserve to be here. That I'm not the "little girl from team B"- God I fucking hate being called that!"
"Oh baby, I'm so sorry, I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless. I had no idea it has this kind of abusive. How is this even aloud? This isn't aloud right? It's not aloud! You need to make a complaint about him! You need to come foward an-" - her face red from anger, from frustration when you cut her off.
"I can't. I doesn't work that way here. I've heard even Alexia and Paredes have tried to stand up to him. But apparently he has a green light to do whatever it takes to make sure the team delivers."
"But this isn't normal, this is borderline abuse! It sounds more like your going through torture not training!"
"But I have to stay, I have to be here! This is my chance amor! This is what we've wanted for the longest time! I'm lucky to be here, Vilda keeps threatening he could easily replace us. But that's the thing, he can! I can't loose this chance!"
"That's not healthy Y/N! Do you even hear yourself!? Your being mistreated and think you should be grateful for it! It's okay to admit that your not okay, your not weak, you're just human!"
"It doesn't matter. Tomorrow night we have the match. I know they'll most likely keep me on the bench anyway."
"Although this isn't right and you shouldn't be going through this situation, hold on okay!? You just have to make through two more days and you'll be home. You'll be with me. Where you're safe."
"I love you mi amor. I wish I could say "I wish you were here" but I wouldn't wish this for anyone." - You sounded so broken. Nothing like the girl who arrived in camp almost a week ago. That girl was excited and scared of the new. And now she was disappointed and scared of the reality.
"I love you, and I'm so distraught there's nothing we can do about it." - She looked defeated. Worse than you'd ever seen. And you felt bad once again, for dragging her into this mess. For worrying her so much.
"I'm going to try to get some sleep." - You we're beyond tired at this point. Wishing you could fall asleep and wake-up home. In your girlfriend's embrace.
"Okay. Anything, I mean anything, let me know alright?"
"I will. I promise."
And you were right. The next day all you could do was sit and watch. Secretly thankful. You were drained. And not just you. All the girls seemed on edge. All you could do was wonder how they do it. How do they keep going. You had only been there a week. They've been enduring this for much, much longer. Yet they win and win, again and again. While staying strong (at least on the outside), and holding each other up.
On the way home you reflected a lot. This was so different from how you imagined. And made you realize how much you still had yet to mature. You were almost throwing the towel, while those amazing women kept fighting like that was a simple 9-5 job.
In a way being by their side and feeling the love for what they do, help you put things into perspective in a way that your career hadn't yet been able to do.
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Arriving home I let out the biggest sigh. Feeling the anxiety of being always on alert washout. And then I ran up to her. And all I could do was cry. And let out all the pain, all the exhaustion come out of me.
"You're okay Y/N! I'm here.
You're home now.
You're home." - you didn't even answer her, and you didn't have to. She knew you. And she could tell how heavy this all was. - "I know this is your dream-"
"Our dream."
"But this can't come at any cost. This is not right! Your love for football is what got you there! It's not fair! I doesn't make sense to be there, if it makes you hate it. If makes you contemplate leaving it!"
"How did you know I contemplated leaving it? I didn't dare to say it out loud."
"I saw it in your eyes." - she said that last sentence sadly.
And you two held each other for what it felt like an eternity. You were safe.
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Sorry this took a little long. Also couldn't stop writing, hope it's some good!
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"Cut!"
Hi! I was remembering how some of your fics have Roman practicing conversations with the other sides in the Imagination over and over. Now, I tend to be one of those people that is almost always in my head (been mildly dissociating near constantly for almost a year now which uh- probably should get that checked out actually) and a lot of the time when I do stuff I get deja vu even if I've never done something like that before. And it's kinda gotten to the point where I'm not entirely sure if something has actually happened or not sometimes. So I was thinking maybe Roman references a conversation what he'd had with the Imagination!Sides in passing on accident, and everyone is kinda like "Princey wtf are you talking about??" And Roman panics and hides, and the next time he sees the sides he thinks that they don't wanna see him and this is a scene in the Imagination. So he gets really confused when the words he's learned will get the fake sides angry at him just are met with more concern and worry from the real sides. And they're trying to comfort him and he doesn't know what's going on and yells "CUT!" but obviously it doesn't work and now everyone is really worried and Roman can't tell between what's real and what's fake anymore and just. Has a mental breakdown. and then they comfort :D because I cannot leave this poor guy with an unhappy ending. – anon
hiii !!!! idk if you’re taking requests, and if not please ignore me, but if you are, i’m legit in love with how you write rociet with roman angst, and i would love to see more of it !!!!!! thank you !!!!!!!! – anon
Read on Ao3
Warnings: unreality/roman having trouble remembering things and figuring out what's real, self-doubt
Pairings: dlampr, can be platonic or romantic you decide
Word Count: 4976
It begins so slowly that they don't think anything of it at first. Roman will say something that they don't remember, or he'll reference something that never happened, or he'll forget something that happened just a few days ago as though it happened several months back. Things...escalate, and soon they figure out the problem is far, far worse than they could have ever imagined.
Remus doesn't bother with asking or knocking, he just sinks into Roman's room right over his bed.
There's no yelp or screech, which means Roro's not in the bed, but he does get a surprised little squeak when he turns around from his desk.
"Ro-bro!"
"Re? I thought you were—you went—aren't you feeding Ollie right now?"
Remus frowns, sitting up. "No, that's not for another week. And you're supposed to come with me."
Roman furrows his brow, toying with his pen. "Really? I thought you said…"
He trails off, staring into nothing and Remus's frown deepens, sliding off the bed and walking over. Roman's pen stills, his grip a little too tight, and Remus nudges his shoulder. "Roro?"
It's like someone electrocuted him—Roman clicks and suddenly this wide grin that looks almost painful settles on his face and Remus blinks in surprise. "Sorry, don't know what came over me. Must've been lost in thought."
"Are you—hey!"
Roman leaps up and tackles Remus through the door into the Imagination, summoning his sword and swinging it before Remus has a chance to catch his breath. His morningstar clangs against the blade a moment later and he grins too—he's been waiting for Roman to start one of their fights for ages!
"Come on," Roman taunts, spreading his arms, "or are you just gonna lie there all day?"
"Oh, you asked for it, Roro."
Their sparring shakes the ground, yells and laughs ringing out as their weapons clash over and over and over. Remus throws back his head and howls and the Imagination responds, the sky growing dark and thick with clouds as thunder booms in the distance. Roman's sword grazes his arm and he shoves Remus hard in the chest, knocking him over.
"Do you yield?"
"Never!" He springs back up and they're off again, but Roman keeps dancing out of the way. "How're you so fast? Have you been practicing without me?"
Roman falters and Remus jams his elbow into the soft part of Roman's ribs, knocking him off-balance just enough to swat the sword from his hand. The first raindrops start to fall as Roman lands on his side, Remus's morningstar about to aim for his chest when a leg trips him and suddenly Roman's got his sword back—how did that happen?—and Remus's weapon is flying across the field.
"How the fuck—?"
"Do you yield?"
Remus snarls playfully and jumps up, tackling Roman and knocking his sword away again. Roman responds instantly, grappling across the slowly-muddying field until they end up on their backs, Roman's arm holding Remus in a chokehold as the rain pours down on them.
"Do you yield?"
"Yeah, yeah," Remus gasps, "I fucking yield. Leggo."
Roman chuckles and lets him roll off, landing face first in a mud puddle. His muscles ache but only in the good way and he flops onto his back, smiling breathlessly at the sky.
"That was fucking amazing, Roro," he gasps, "you have been practicing, haven't you?"
"Just trying to keep up with you," comes Roman's answer, just a little too quickly.
Remus doesn't think anything of it.
2.
"Roman?"
"Hm?" Roman looks up from his spot in the corner of the living room, curled around his notebook. "Oh, hey, Padre. Is everything okay?"
Patton tilts his head. "Yeah, kiddo, why wouldn't it be?"
"Sorry, it's just, you know, everyone's been a little tense recently, what with…" Roman makes a vague gesture. "Everything. I shouldn't have assumed, though, I'm sorry."
Before Patton can ask if Roman's okay, Roman's settling his notebook to the side and standing up.
"What can I do for you?"
"I was going to ask if you wanted to help me with dinner?"
An expression flickers across Roman's face, too quick to name, before he's smiling and bowing. "It would be my honor, lead the way."
At least he's alright enough for that. Patton goes over to the kitchen, Roman behind him, and reaches for the large pot at the back of the stove. "I was thinking we could try that new pasta dish that Virgil's been asking about? The one Thomas saw on that YouTube video?"
"The one with all the spices and garlic and stuff?"
"Yeah, that's the one."
"I don't remember if we have all the ingredients we need, but I'm definitely down to try." Roman opens a cabinet and starts taking bottles down from the shelf. "We can also definitely tweak the recipe to make sure that we can do the important parts, we just have to be careful that—"
"Uh, Roman?"
Roman pauses, turning to look over his shoulder, still holding a jar. "Yeah?"
"I, uh, I did this last week, I know what spices we have. I figured this out, you don't have to tell me how to do it."
Again, that expression flickers over his face and he quickly sets down the jar and takes a big step away from the counter. "Right, right, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted to—no, I'm not gonna make an excuse. I'm sorry, Patton, I'll listen."
"It's fine, kiddo, I know you didn't mean it." Patton holds out the pot. "Can you fill this with water?"
"Of course!"
They start prepping, Patton providing little instructions and Roman carrying them out. He chops the shallots, the green onions, and sets the sausage to the side to be cooked first. By the time they're ready to start the actual cooking, Patton's got the water boiling for the rice noodles when Roman looks over his shoulder.
"Um, what are you doing?"
"Cooking the noodles, that's it."
"But they're—sorry, aren't they supposed to be cooked later?"
"We need them ready to add to the rest of the stuff near the end, kiddo, so they have to be ready."
"But they only take a few minutes." When Patton frowns, just thinking Roman's words over, Roman hastily continues. "Sorry, I'm sure you know that already. Here, I'll, uh, would it be helpful if I got a bowl out to put them in once they're done?"
"Yeah, that'd be great."
He catches that expression on Roman's face again, and again it vanishes too quickly for him to ask about, but the rest of the cooking goes off without a hitch. They get a lot of compliments on how good everything tastes and Patton makes sure Roman gets as much of the praise as he does.
"I just listened to you," Roman demurs, "it's really all you."
"It seems not only have you cooked a spectacular dish," Logan observes, "but you've also taught Roman some humility."
Virgil snorts. "'Bout time."
Roman smiles as the rest of them laugh. Patton takes another bite. "This is even better than last time."
"Last time," Roman says quietly, "sorry, can you—when was last time?"
"Sheesh, Princey, how bad is your memory getting? It was just last week?"
"Last week, right."
Patton opens his mouth to ask why Roman still sounds unsure about it, but then Remus throws one of the prawn shells at Janus and he doesn't think about it anymore.
3.
"Easy, now," Roman murmurs, still stroking his hand up and down Virgil's spine, "that's it…you're doing really well, shadow-ling."
Virgil closes his eyes, resting against Roman's solid chest as the last of the panic attack bleeds from his veins. His breathing has yet to even out, but he can start to smell some of Princey's shampoo again, so he takes it as a win. He'll deny it later, but he turns his head to nuzzle into the crook of Roman's neck. Roman doesn't say a single thing, just shifting his grip to hold Virgil more securely in his lap.
"Hey," he says gently when Virgil headbutts his chin, "you here with me, bud?"
"Mmpf."
Roman's chuckle thrums warmly through his head. "I'll take that as a 'sort of.'"
Half of Virgil expects Roman to gently prod him into taking care of himself the rest of the way: getting him water, making him try and eat a little, getting him out of the gross and sweaty clothes into clean ones, even trying to talk him into taking a shower. And he'd do it, putting up his cursory protests, but that would mean that Roman's getting ready to leave and right now, in the last of the panic, he really wants Princey to stay.
He'd deny it if Roman ever asked him, of course, and he'd throttle Janus before he could chirp how much of a lie that was.
But Roman doesn't do that. Instead, he wraps his arms even more gently around Virgil and tucks him half over his shoulder, almost straddling his lap as one of his hands begins to card through his hair. Pressed chest to chest, he has to stifle another hitching gasp as Princey starts humming. It's a low and gentle tune, almost melancholy, and he swears it's some kind of magic as it reaches into the exhausted heap of emotions still swirling in his gut and starts coaxing it out of him.
Yeah, that means he goes back to crying into Princey's shoulder, but it's a softer cry that feels like he might actually feel better when it's over and he has no idea how Roman knows exactly what to do.
He's not gonna question it though.
There's no way the song Princey's humming is as long as he holds him for, so he must be doing it over and over, which just makes Virgil cry more because Roman is choosing to stay with him right now, he's choosing to let Virgil be a puddle of mess on his lap, and he's still running his fingers lightly over Virgil's back and yes, actually, Virgil would like to stay here forever.
When the tears eventually run out and Virgil's just floating there, in a really pleasant haze, he realizes that Roman isn't going to move until Virgil decides he wants to move. Not when he's just shifting so it's easier for Virgil to breathe, and he's still scratching gently along the space between his shoulder blades.
"…Princey?"
"Hm?"
"How'd…how'd you know what to do?"
Roman turns and noses Virgil's hair. "You told me, remember?"
Virgil's tired brain tries to figure out when he gave Roman the step-by-step on how to give him the best, most indulgent comfort ever and draws a blank. "No. I—when'd I do that?"
Roman's hand stutters for a moment, just a moment, but a moment nonetheless. "Maybe I just figured out why it took me so long to realize what you needed, then."
Talking is hard, and so Virgil doesn't do it, but he does think about it.
4.
"It's not that bizarre of an opinion, to be sure, but the way it's phrased speaks more of an incomplete understanding of the topic than they intended."
"No, I see your point. I mean, I know I'm definitely biased and reading sentences like that tends to make me defensive, but I know that, and I'm trying to work on it." Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. "I think it's just hard because when you make such sweeping generalizations that imply that you really don't know what it is you're talking about, it's hard for me to not be super defensive and stuff, does that make sense?"
"It's another area for you to work on—"
"Yeah, I know."
"—but I see your point. If someone doesn't come to the table in good faith, it's difficult to have good faith yourself." Logan sits back, still pondering the opinion piece in front of them. "Though it is clear they lack the same kind of expertise and knowledge that you do."
"I think that's also why it's hard for me—I can list, like, four different examples offhand that would disprove their point, and at least half a dozen more that show the contradictions they've made in the last paragraph alone—like, I'm not alone here, that part contradicts their point about pacing, doesn't it?"
"Not entirely, but yes, it lends an ambiguity to their earlier statement."
"Right." Roman rubs his forehead and flips through his notebook, brow furrowed. "I swear I remember when we talked about academic continuity, I just need to find that page."
Logan frowns. "When we what?"
Roman looks up, brow furrowed. "When we talked about…you know, the importance of making sure your argument—or your point, sorry—carries through your entire piece?"
"I don't recall that conversation."
"You, um—" Roman starts flipping through his notebook, his movements taking on an increasingly frenetic pace— "you brought one of my papers to me that we talked about and you started going through the um, the problems with the layout and we started talking about the importance of—I swear it's in here, I just need to find it."
Logan sits forward, his brow increasingly furrowing as Roman almost tears a page trying to turn it. "Roman, it's—"
"Here." Roman runs his finger down the page, still not meeting Logan's gaze, "we talked about how it's important to have a coherent theme that the reader can follow and how to acknowledge conflicting viewpoints without placing them in a hierarchy."
Logan blinks. That does sound like a conversation that he and Roman would have—one that he believes he'd rather enjoy—but he has no recollection of it. Roman's expression flickers when he says as much, something almost like panic rising in his gaze before it's quickly stifled.
"Well," he says, forcing a smile onto his face, "perhaps I was just reading it back over and imagined what you'd say."
"I quite like this imaginary version of me, then," Logan jokes, "he makes excellent points."
Roman's reaction is not quite a flinch, but his smile squeezes for a moment too long before he nods.
"Would you mind having it again," Logan asks, "for the sake of—?"
"Oh, I couldn't do it justice," Roman says a little too quickly, "but you, um, you can read it? If you want?"
Logan blinks again, surprise coloring his voice. "You'd let me read your notes?"
"…if…if you want to?"
Waiting for Roman to retract that invitation at any moment—he has never seen Roman fiercer than when something touches his notebooks—Logan reaches out and carefully starts to read. The conversation's transcript—or summary—is fascinating. He finds himself almost mourning the fact that this wasn't a conversation he'd actually had. Although some of the comments that he can tell are his are a touch more callous than he'd prefer, he finds himself engrossed in their dialogue until he gets to the latter half.
Roman's handwriting grows sloppy, as it is wont to do when he gets caught up, but there are occasional splotches of discoloration where it looks like something wet.
"Oh, I was drinking something," Roman says offhandedly when Logan asks, "must've spillled."
"I'm surprised you'd drink around your notebooks, you take such care of them."
"Well, you know me."
Before Logan can point out that he does, that's why he's confused, Roman's saying that he's sorry, but he's a little worn out, would Logan mind terribly if they cut this short a bit? Logan shakes his head and watches Roman pick up his notebook, walking out of his room. That moment of panic lingers in his mind and he frowns, wondering why Roman had panicked.
He thinks about that and the drops of liquid that had obscured a line in Roman's handwriting that just said cut.
5.
Janus hears Roman lie over and over again and he's about to break something.
Every time, he has to hold back his visible surprise that one, Roman is lying so readily, and two, that he's getting away with it. The little prince is a better actor than Janus gave him credit for—than any of them gave him credit for, as it's turning out—and the more times it happens, the more Janus thinks that something right under their noses is going terribly, horribly wrong.
The lies aren't big enough for them to be problems on their own, but they stack on top of each other like pebbles until it feels as though Janus blinks one day and there's a wall between Roman and the rest of them that seems insurmountable. And each time another adds to the mass, he thinks about calling it out, but they're never for something so serious as to warrant a full interrogation and the last thing he wants to do is let Roman know he's suspicious of him.
…it sounds much worse than it is.
It's just that if Roman is this good about keeping everyone off his tail right now, with almost no baseline suspicion or cause for concern, he has no desire to see what would happen if Roman was intent on keeping it a secret. And if he is going to succeed in uncovering why Roman feels so fundamentally scared, something Virgil only admitted after Janus had poked and prodded him for far too long, then he needs all of the rest of them on his side too.
His opportunity comes unexpectedly.
They're having a meeting—not a meeting meeting, they're just talking about what they want to do this weekend—and Roman brings up a conversation they'd had about making sure movie nights were comfortable for everyone. Talking about possible triggers beforehand, making sure everyone had equal access to whatever snacks they wanted, even down to making sure everyone behaved considerately while the movie was playing to ensure everyone was having a good time.
A perfectly reasonable thing to bring up, except that conversation never happened.
"What?" Roman looks around. "Are—it did, I swear. We were—we were getting ready to watch the second Venom movie and Remus brought up the body horror and gore that happens and we started talking about—"
He looks around at them all again.
"Do…do none of you remember this?"
"No, kiddo."
"Not really."
"It would be a good conversation to have, but I don't remember this instance of it."
Remus and Janus just shake their heads, Janus keeping his eyes on Roman as he fiddles with his hands.
Don't lie, Roman, please.
"Sorry," Roman says, flashing a bright smile, "must be getting lost in my Imagination again."
Janus narrows his eyes—not technically a lie, but Roman's leaving something out. For a moment, it seems like the conversation will keep flowing and he'll have to wait for a better time to ask Roman what's wrong, but then Patton's speaking up.
"Kiddo?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
Roman laughs. "Yeah, of course, Padre, why wouldn't I be?"
Lie. Janus hisses softly and Roman's head jerks around.
"What's the matter," Logan asks, and Roman jerks again at the gentle tone, "will you talk to us, Roman?"
"You've been acting a little strange for a while now," Patton agrees, taking a step closer, "is everything okay?"
"Yeah, like I said," Roman tries, a smile still sort of on his face, "everything's fine, why are you—"
Janus hisses again as Virgil sits up. "Princey, you don't have to be scared, you can—"
"I'm not scared!"
The stronger lie sears across Janus's tongue as Roman winces at the force of his own shout. He pinches the bridge of his nose. No one dares move for several long seconds. Just when Logan looks like he's about to say something, Roman takes a deep breath and lowers his head.
"I'm sorry," he says in a voice that sounds so mournful it makes Janus's chest ache, "I didn't mean to shout or snap at you. You didn't deserve it, I'm sorry. I think I—I've just been spending too much time in the Imagination again."
As soon as he finishes talking, he braces. Like he's expecting to get hit. He hears Remus make a worried noise next to him, starting to reach out.
"Little one," Logan says gently, "we're not angry with you, there's no need for all of that."
Roman's eyes snap open and at the look of pure confusion on his face, a few more of them let out little sounds. Virgil stands up and Roman turns too quickly to face him.
"Hey, Princey," Virgil soothes, his hands up, "I'm not moving, okay? I'm just worried. You're—I can feel you freaking out a little that's all."
"Sweetheart," Patton calls next and Janus winces at how much Roman's neck keeps snapping back and forth, "sweetheart, it's okay, you're safe, it's gonna be okay."
"Back off a bit, we're crowding him."
All of them—except for Remus—take a step back. Remus edges closer and closer to Roman until he can rest a hand on Roman's shoulder. Roman just trembles and Remus cups the side of his face.
"Hey, Roro. Look at me. Just at me, okay?"
"I don't—this wasn't—"
"Breathe," Remus bids softly, and Roman draws a few gasping breaths.
"This wasn't supposed to happen."
"What wasn't?"
"This—I—I don't—"
Remus opens his mouth to say something else when it morphs into a wordless sound of surprise as Roman sinks out abruptly, leaving him scrabbling at the empty air as the rest of them rush forward.
"What happened?"
"Where'd he go?"
"Did we do something to upset him?"
"What's going on?"
Janus doesn't say anything, still staring at the spot where Roman had been. He thinks about all of the lies he's heard, all of the things Roman hasn't said, and how out of all of the things Roman lied about, he'd never lied about being lost in the Imagination.
A conclusion starts to take shape.
+1.
"No wonder you've been so off, your head hasn't been attached to you since you lost it."
"It's a bad idea to spend so much time in the Imagination, Roman, you know that."
"That sounds really irresponsible, Roman. You should know better."
"Quit hogging the Imagination, I need to use it too."
"Oh, of course you were, Roman, did you honestly think we'd expected anything different?"
"You need to be better disciplined, if you can't get the work done you need to before deciding to go off and play."
"Sheesh, Princey, are you really that selfish?"
"If it's getting so bad that you're having delusions, then you need to stop, kiddo."
"Oh, no, Roman's having trouble understanding what's real again."
"The fuck is wrong with you?"
"You're being dramatic, pull yourself together."
"Your crocodile tears aren't convincing anyone, you know."
"Stop crying, you're not a baby."
"Do you think that if you throw a big or pathetic enough tantrum, it'll get us to spoil you? Grow up."
"Stupid."
"Ridiculous."
"Pathetic."
"Annoying."
"Worthless."
"You can't do anything right."
"You're being ridiculous."
"We should never have relied on you."
"I knew you couldn't handle it."
"We're better off without you."
Roman curls up around his pillow, wedging himself deeper into the corner. He jams his face between it and the wall. He tries to keep his hands out of sight. He counts in his head as he breathes, trying to keep it as even as possible. Eventually it will be over. He just has to last until then. Then he can go to his room and cuddle his plushie dragon and be upset there, out of the way, and hurt all by himself. It's safer that way.
He keeps his breathing nice and steady, letting the hurt course through him. The voices keep going, taunting, mocking, yelling, scolding, until they start to just say his name over and over. Roman, Roman, Roman, Roman—
"Roman!"
Something like a frenzied scream comes from behind him and he turns his face deeper into the wall.
"What the fuck are those things?"
"Shit, how long have those been here?"
"Are they—are they supposed to be us?"
"Yeah, fucked up and cruel versions of us, not on my fucking watch!"
Several wet splats come from behind him and then there are hands on his shoulder, running through his hair, and someone that feels like Remus is murmuring in his ear.
"Hey, Roro, it's over. I destroyed them, they're gone, it's the real us. We're here, we're really here, just—just come out of there, okay?"
Oh. It's this one.
He always finds this one the cruelest, where they lure him in with promises of comfort and safety only to turn on him when he reveals what he's actually upset about. No, thank you, he's hurting just fine on his own.
"Roro, please, come out of there, it's okay, it's all gonna be okay."
"Let me try," he hears Logan's voice say, and then the Remus is moving away and there's another hand on his shoulder, "dear, it's alright. You're going to give yourself neck pain if you stay like that, come here…"
Despite his chest howling at him not to, Roman lets Logan coax him out from the corner. Each word of gentle praise just makes it worse—it's going to hurt so much when they start being mean again.
"Princey—" and there's Virgil— "hey, stay with us, okay? Just focus on us, Pat, do you want to—"
"I got it."
Despite himself, a wounded noise leaves Roman's throat as a blanket gets draped over his shoulders. Careful touches smooth it down, more hands helping to secure it in place, and he just curls up so small under it so he doesn't get used to the warmth.
Just get it over with. Just get it over with. Just get it over with.
"Sweetie," he hears, and flinches at the touch of a smooth hand and a scaled hand on his face.
Wait, what?
Janus never takes his gloves off. Not here. Not like this. They can't—they can't be this cruel to him, not today, not when everything already hurts so much.
"Cut," he manages, "cut."
But the hands don't leave and he looks up to see Janus, actual real Janus looking at him and then he smiles softly and calls him sweetie again, and then Logan is appearing over his shoulder and Patton's adjusting the blanket and Virgil and Remus are keeping watch at the corners of the room and—and—and—
"Come here, sweetie," Janus murmurs and he's falling into his chest and there's a kiss being pressed to his temple and it's warm and soft and—
"Shh, Princey," Virgil says as a thread of panic starts to wind its way around his chest, "it's okay, you're okay," and—
"Come this way a little," Logan coaxes as something soft appears under him, "come lie down, you're alright," and—
"There you are," Patton's voice says as something starts to cuddle him, gently yet firmly and it's so surreal and—
"Oh, Roro," Remus mumbles as his brother's arms wrap firmly around him, "this is real, I promise, I promise we're here with you, everything's gonna be okay, okay? We're here, we're real, you're real, everything's gonna be okay now," and—
—and then Roman doesn't think anymore.
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cecedownbad · 5 months
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Hold On
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Summary: A missing child's case resurfaced so many memories you wished to keep buried. Sure enough, seeking comfort from the heavy feelings came by as a form of a person. [Spencer Reid X Fem!Reader] Part 2.
Warning: Child abduction, death of a child, angst, no Y/N, made up last name: Cyrus, made up case, light fluff, hurt/ comfort, not too romance-y but alluding to it, not proof read, I don't think the mystery/crime aspect is good but let me hear thoughts guys. Something extra in tags, read after the story.
Word Count: 4.1k
Part 1
I'm so sorry this took so long, my exams, mental health, projects, assignments allll just rolled in the past months, and I've been doing everything to stay on top of writing. It's rushed towards the end but with all that's going on I hope it's okay. If anyone is up for part 3, I'm all for it .
Enjoy
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"Those who cannot remember the past, are condemned to repeat it."
-George Santayana
'Okay, let's see, Conrad Miller, 16 years old, went missing on June 12th, 2007. Last seen by the local church with one of the volunteers, she was questioned once but was never linked as she had a solid alibi, her name was Grace Cyrus.' Tara paused. 'So she took Conrad, no she definitely didn't just take him, poor kid is definitely not okay.'
'Right now Stephen is our priority, the anniversary of Steven's disappearance is in 4 days, so what does she want with him now?' You pace in the room, spinning a pen you grabbed in your hand. 'I think that's something only you can answer, what happened 4 days prior to Steven's disappearance?' Tara pondered, she sat down, looking at you, intent on finding answers. '4 days prior…that was the day my dad— Daniel had come to visit, they, Grace and him got into a fight and Stevie, Steven tried to "protect" Daniel in his own way, he thought Mom was going to hurt him…'
Was it then that this all weighed down on you? Words long lost had started pouring through the cracks of memories locked away. You were never in that station in that moment, no, now you were back there.
'Stevie, get back here! We can't stop them!'
'No! No let go! I don't want Dad to go, Mom's going to send him away!'
'Steven!'
No matter how hard you tried, he slipped from your tensed grasp, landing right between two enraged adults.
Pacing the floor helped gather your thoughts, a little better.
'What was the very last thing she said to you when you left?'
The thought of how it all ended passed through your minds, each time much like a bullet to the brain but you push it all down, now wasn't the right time for you. 'everything okay there?' Tara asked you, it's only been a few minutes since you and Tara confronted the idea that Grace might have done more than anyone could have put together.
'Yeah just a lot going on in my head, I think I need a breather.'
'Hold that thought, JJ and Luke are back with Daniel,'
Your hand now wrapped around the empty coffee mug, a dad you haven't spoken to for the last two decades, what would you have to say? or better yet, what would he say to you? This isn't an official reunion, it's an interrogation and who knows what will spill out of your mouth if you see the very first man in your life that disappointed you, taught you that having a person in your life was enough to make you fall apart.
'JJ and I will go in first, you sit tight.' Tara patted your shoulder giving it a good squeeze before heading out the conference room.
It was soon after that Rossi, Reid and Emily came back in, all three harnessing disappointment with their stride. 'Hey, what happened?'
'Well, Rosa was not in her home, we searched the house and by the looks of it, she hardly came back there.' Emily sat down with her legs crossed. 'but, her room had keepsakes, maybe from the time you lived with her?'
'What did she have?'
'She had pictures, some old folded drawings, and the weirdest one, an old juice box.' as Emily finished, you sat up from your chair, 'an old juice box? Do you remember what flavour?'
'I think it was Apple? Why? Does it have something to do with Steven?'
'…'
'Cyrus?'
'That, uh, it's nothing, I think sentimental feelings do surface no matter what kind of person you are.' You began fidgeting with your sleeves, your mind now slowly began recalling events that transpired long ago. 'Is there something else? It looks like you aren't sure about something.' Rossi eyed your movements, he knew something was keeping you. 'My mother, she'd never show any sign that she felt remorse, not even as far as I could remember.'
'Okay Reid, stay with her, I'm going to check in with JJ and the rest. Rossi? Do you mind?' soon after, Rossi and Emily exited the room, leaving you and Spencer in the conference room. 'Could you tell me what kind of person your mother is?' Spencer sat down right before you, urging you to take a seat right next to him and you did.
'She was an uptight woman, she loved to be in control of her life that meant being in control of mine too, it's why I left. She loved being seen.'
'Being seen? What do you mean?'
'She was always a respected figure no matter where she went, be it at work or in the neighborhood, she pushed for that at home too. When Steven had disappeared, I would always remember how she would tell me he was in a better place, and that if I do anything to disobey her or question her authority, I would be punished.' your head hung as you remembered more, 'I would study, day and night, that was the only life I knew, if my grades dropped by a mark, she'd lock me in my room, made sure I only had books on my desk.'
'Did Daniel ever drop by after what happened to Steven?' Spencer asked gently, 'No, I never saw him after that, I thought he finally got sick of mom and left, but I see now that wasn't the case.'
'Okay—'
'You know the one thing I can't seem to remember though?' you looked up at Spencer, his eyebrows now furrowed in question. 'My mother would always say how beautiful I am, and…and that I look just like her, her very own reflection but, Spencer, I can't…I can't remember her face.' your voice sounded shattered at what came out of it. You felt the tears fall, but you couldn't turn away or hide them, Spencer saw just how much this hurts you.
'You are your own person, no one can ever take that from you, no matter what, you are you.' He held your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of your palm, that gave you a sign of comfort and you smiled at him. 'Alright, let's get back to the case.' quickly wiping away your tears and pasting on a smile, which you flash at Spencer, he in turn regained a more unmoving figure. 'When you said Rosa knew that Steven would never come back, what did you mean?'
'I was only a kid but to me it felt like she already knew that Steven had maybe...and all I could remember was a frown anytime I even remotely related to Steven.' You return with an answer. It was then the phone on the table went off.
'What is it Garcia?'
'So I dug into Daniel a bit more, and you aren't going to like this, so he was actually never in Bakersfield until a week ago, before that he was working as a cab driver in Nevada. He was in Nevada for a long time, but he touched base sometime in 2007, in the month of June. Looks like he tried several times to contact his ex wife but she never entertained any of it. What is concerning is that he was reported of stalking a young boy, said he mistook the boy for a boy he knew and he meant no harm but he was fired from his workplace and when was that? A little before coming over to Bakersfield.' Once Garcia had informed both of you, it was then JJ, Emily and Luke walked back in.
'What did the boy look like?' Spencer asked, 'I sent his picture to your phone.'
'Thank you Garcia.' You picked up your cell and scrolled through to find the image.
'No problemo.'
Upon quick inspection, you could tell at a glance the young boy and Steven shared a few similarities, nothing too obvious except hair colour and facial structure, age is the more obvious factor.
JJ walked in, arms crossed, she sighed but began asking what Garcia checked in for, 'Looks like Daniel was fired from his work place prior to coming to Bakersfield a week before Stephen's abduction.' You informed the three.
'If I didn't know any better, I'd say that's a trigger for him.' Emily began, 'Yeah, I agree.' and Luke followed suit.
'So he not only gets rejected by his ex-wife, but fired from his work place for stalking a boy that looks like his son, then he goes and kidnaps a boy that Rosa seemingly dotes on? Something doesn't add up.' JJ looked on with confusion. 'How did it go with him?' you asked finally.
'Said he had something vital for the case but he would only discuss it with you.' Emily sat down, her voice already etching with exhaustion. 'He's hiding something and my gut is saying it can't be good.'
'I'll go talk to him.' You were close to leaving the room, but Emily had halted your motions.
'Wait,'
'Yeah?'
'Reid will go with you, Tara might want to step out.' You gave a quick nod to Emily's order.
Every step to the interrogation room, you could hear the pained voices of yours, more precisely, from when you were a child. A young girl, alone in a room with nothing but her thoughts, you swallowed hard as you stood by the entrance of the viewing room. When you entered, you let Spencer call Tara from the interrogation room to the viewing room. 'No matter what, don't give in to his requests, you need to break him down, and if you ever want to leave, you can.' Tara gave you a small nudge and she stayed back in the room.
This was it, you let Spencer lead you into the interrogation room, allowing him to get there before you creeped on behind.
'How many times do I need to tell you people? Can't you bring my daug—you, your—'
'Let me be very clear, you have something vital for this case and I'm willing to hear you out, but say or do anything and you will be escorted out of the door by agents, understood?' the firm voice you let out hid every sorry cry that was wailing in you, having not seen your father for 20 years was a shock but not something that should be seen. 'Look at you, what it's been 15, 20 years, oh my beautiful little angel, I missed you.' honey coated words slipped from his mouth and every cell in you twisted in anger and contempt, 'Mr. Carter, the case.' Spencer stepped in this time.
'Always in such a hurry, well, since you brought my little girl. I know where the kid is being held.' He sat there with no remorse, no care that a child, close to the age of the son he lost years ago, was missing.
'Where might that be?'
'I can take you there, but I'll only go if she goes with me.'
After so long, he cares or at least that's what he's showing but you knew what he was playing at, he thought he could get away light just because his flesh and blood was in the justice system, what a sorry bastard.
'I think we're done here.' Spencer had got up from his chair but you stayed seated, deal or not you wanted to break the man in front of you and that was what was nailing you down to your chair. 'Mr. Carter, what good will it do if I went with you? Was it not enough that you came in here demanding to see your daughter about a case I know damn well you don't care about?' you pressed, choice of words were clearly targeted but your composure remained cool. 'What do you mean, you know what happened to Stevi—'
'Your son that you never bothered to report missing? I don't believe you have a right to bring that up, Sir.'
'Now listen here—'
'In the time Rosa had left you behind, you did nothing but fail to bring yourself together, I have a question for you, what were you doing on June 12th, 2007? Why did you come back to Bakersfield prior to that date?' you swiped through the tablet that Tara handed to you, it contained everything Garcia had found including some case files. 'I don't know why you're asking me that, don't you have the life of a boy to save?' He avoided it with such harshness, you only wanted to pry further but somehow it felt like you knew the answer, but the words never fell into place.
'Answer the question Daniel.' Spencer sat back down now jabbing at him as well. 'I just had someone to meet, is that really so important?'
'Why did you need to meet them? Did you coming back here have anything to do with Rosa Cyrus, your ex-wife?' Your slowly tapped at the desk, it was a timed beat. 'I did visit her once but that—'
'Were you aware that a teenager was reported missing around the same time you arrived here? His name was Conrad Miller, he was 16 years old.'
'W-what? I-I don't know anything about that.'
'Really? Because it says in the case files that Rosa was the last person to have seen Conrad, but you knew that didn't you?' He flinched at the response, at this point he wore a sign that screamed suspicious.
It was then that Daniel remained silent, you believed that any word that came out of him at that point would dig his grave deeper.
You stepped out of the room and walked into the room behind the mirror. 'Now he won't speak,' Rossi now stood there with his arms in his pocket.
'We need to find Rosa and Stephen soon, the man is hiding something and Rosa is the key to finding out why.' Rossi took the words right out of your mouth, looks you both knew what he was playing at.
'I think I can help with that, how much can you guys bet on a gut feeling?' You asked the three of them, weary of their answer, 'At this point? I'll take it.' Rossi let out, the two soon followed. 'Rosa will most likely be at the house we used to live in, which is not in this area, I'm hoping that she's keeping Stephen safe,'
'Safe? How come?' Tara asked you, 'Daniel here, came a week prior to Stephen's abduction, not only did he lose his job before coming here, he needed to have a reason to come here,' you deduce.
'His reason being Rosa? But wouldn't that not trigger Rosa?' Looks like you still needed to elaborate your theory, so you continued. 'It did, Rosa having heard that Daniel came here must have caused her protective instinct to kick in, call me crazy, but I think Rosa is keeping Stephen away from Daniel.' you finally let out a sigh, your palms clammed from sweat but if you were right, the little boy you came here for was safe.
'A mother's protective instinct, I'm guessing that something happened 20 years ago that she didn't agree on, which caused her to completely reject this guy, I'll have Garcia send the address of her prior location.' Rossi curtly exited the room, Tara followed along.
Spencer stood before you in silence, you didn't register any movement from him because all your focus was on the man, sitting on the other side of that glass.
'You can go on ahead, Reid, I need to talk to him.' 
'But I can't let you go in alone...'
You huffed, your eyes did what it could but meet his but looking away won't make what you want go away, 'Given the chance, I might punch the daylights out of him—'
'More of a reason for me to stay.' 
Spencer interrupted, you returned with a sharp look in your eyes before you relaxed, 'Let me finish, I would want to give him a piece of my mind but I need to know, I just, he's the only one that has got to know something about Steven, maybe I can finally put him to rest.' 
It was selfish, that's what you called it, asking for just one more clue when you couldn't do anything before. Maybe now that helpless little girl all those years ago, can see her brother off. 'I need to do this, alone...'
'...' 
You stood there, waiting for something, a sound from him in response, anything at all. 'I'll wait here, being short of another agent will not slow down the rest of the team.' He'd finished but his response ticked you, it poked at the idea of a child being monitored by their parents.
'I don't need you watching my every move, Reid.'
'I'm just following orders.'
'Following orders? Do I look like a child to you? Do I need a leash around my neck too? I can handle him, he's one man!' Your voice raised, and you stared up at your fellow colleague with a ray of contempt.
'A man you can't stand being around for long, you sounded just fine in there earlier to anyone that watched, but do you want to know what I saw? I saw that you were holding back, hard enough your hands curled at his answers, your feet apart was enough for me to know that you would have given Emily a reason for you to be dismissed from the case.' He'd stated what was right, but it wasn't right to you, not right now, you don't know when it would be. 'I'll wait here, you can go in alone.'
Your feet put you in place for a good moment, his words tore right through you. He was right, somewhere in your clouded judgement, you understood he was right, but just because you understood doesn't mean you accepted it.
With a second left to pass, you turned from Spencer. All in silence, it was accepted that you had a job to uphold, no matter the personal toll.
-------------------------------
The dial ups in the station, voices of police officers, movement all around you had become void. Nothing, that's what you heard when you left the interrogation room, you couldn't even hear one Agent calling out to you when you had left. Something gathered, something rotten had formed in your stomach. Your body felt hot, your head on a swivel.
You felt the acid burn at your throat, the half conscious part of you managed to drag your feet to a bathroom stall for you to expel the choux pastry you ingested.
Standing before the mirror now, you washed your mouth, feeling the remnants of the expelled food at your throat.
Nothing felt right to you, not right then, not right now. Having no mind to lose any more time, Reid waited in the conference room as you begrudgingly walked yourself back into it. You said nothing.
You dialed in Emily immediately, hoping she hadn't reached the house yet. 'What have you got for me Cyrus?' 
'I spoke to Daniel.'
'What did he say?'
'He'd been sending frequent messages and calling my mother, they met once, 2007. There was an argument and Conrad had gotten in-between the two of them, it didn't end well.' you informed her, almost mechanically.
'What did he say about Steven?' JJ chimed in.
'Steven was, he said he was never meant to be hurt and Rosa in the mess of things, covered up for him. He told me where...I know where his body is.' Your voice strained, as it got to harsher details.
Nothing came out though, you tried filling in the rest of the details but your voice was overtaken. A pleading look carried over to Spencer and he took over. 'He said that you have to ask where he's sleeping, Rosa's delusion right at this moment is that Steven would come back.'
'Okay, we'll get back to you as soon as we're done here.' The line cut. If you'd carried a boulder on your shoulders, the weight of it might be the same as your conscience. All that was left was you see a family reunited and you get the closure you've been searching for.
------------------------------
The team was back, so was the little boy, he was safe. The Turner family could now go home with their son safe and sound in their grasp.
'Nothing beats seeing that.' you stood, satisfied in a way, the others agreed in unison to your words.
'Cyrus, I need to have a word with you.' Emily called you to a secluded corner of the station, but you had no fear built in you, in fact you felt rather empty, exhausted enough to be emotionally drained. 'We found Steven...' she said quietly.
'Where was he?' you met her in the eyes, having nothing left to tie you down. 'Remains were found in the wall of a small bedroom, it looked like he was initially buried but moved there later.' Every word had struck you, the smaller bedroom was your shared one, no doubt. 'Was he, uh, covered?' a crack sounded in your voice.
It took Emily a moment before answering, 'He was...' 
The last bit of remorse. You'd promised yourself for 20 years that he was found. Part of you wanted him to be alive, maybe he ran off and just found a better life or he was on the streets, alive at least. But you knew how far-fetched that sounded, hope was the one thing you were aware that could end you. '...Thank you, can I, um, I want to be alone.'
'Of course, take all the time you need, listen, once this is over I need to speak with you, but only when you're ready, okay?' She patted the side of your shoulders, adhering to your request, she left you alone.
You let out a wavered breath, trying to breathe in and out to calm yourself. What you needed now was to mourn, you knew that but having a hard cry at this moment would slow down everyone.
Not long after, Rosa and Daniel had gotten arrested. You couldn't catch a glimpse at her face, or more accurately, you refused to see the face you'd forgotten. That didn't bother you that much, as a mother she never cared to look out for you, there wasn't any good reason to remain adherent to the details.
Bakersfield PD would have no more reason to have you stay, for now at least but before you could leave it all behind, Steven deserved a proper burial.
The Funeral was small, no relatives, just few friends from school and the BAU were attending, with Chief Marks as well to pay respects.
You stood over the coffin, looking at how small it was, how it all came to an end, all in silence. Quietly you watched as the coffin was buried, soil tossed over it but before it was over, you had to have one last goodbye.
'I did what I promised, took you long enough to come back from playing, huh? You must be tired, rest well, Stevie.' The Carnation held in your hand had been placed on the coffin, a mark of innocence now put to rest. Once it was all over, you stood, not waiting or expecting anything but just, letting the weight gradually let go of you. This was what you needed yet, it didn't feel enough, something remained in you. 
Footsteps were heard behind you, and you took a peak at the intruder before lifting the corners of your mouth to him. 'He was a handful you know, always wanted my attention no matter what, saying that one day he'd make it to the moon just so he could get me some space rock.' Spencer said nothing to your bouts of reminiscence, 'He told me once, "I'm going to be no.1, so watch me!" I thought he was being silly, Dad left right after and we were alone, it was us against the world.' It all came back, then you knew what you hadn't let go, knew what it was that made you feel utterly at loss. 
'Hey, Spencer, you don't have to do this, but, um, I...' You wanted to ask just for a bit, that little comfort that you so desperately pushed away.
Without another word, he lightly turned to face you. Your mind was too caught up on other memories that when you felt his arms wrap around you, you didn't think for that second. All it took was this to let it all go, no longer in silence but in wailing agony.
He didn't need another word, he simply knew. It was like some crazed superpower of his but it's like he's always known.
He couldn't let go.
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max1461 · 1 month
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I am fully aware this is very paranoid.
So basically some of the people I associate with on here have had pretty radical politics. And in the couple years that I've been on here, I've noticed everyone, left and right, has gotten less radical. Maybe that's a product of them getting older. Or maybe it's some kind of cia psyop or whatever.
Now here's the thing. I don't have any actual intention to fuck with the US government or whatever. As fucked up as I think they are I'm also very fucking scared of them and I have better things to do than put myself on their shitlist. I just want to be left alone. But see I have this fear that I'm like, getting caught in the trawl of some kind of psyop, you know, and the ideas that the feds are spreading to discourage radicalism are indirectly causing my depression.
Uh like. I don't know exactly how that would work. But for instance maybe some agent spreads the notion of "radical change is impossible and wouldn't be good anyway and blah blah" in my local online bubble. Which may or may not be true about politics. But in the process they, you know, articulate and (intentionally or unintentionally) spread various other more abstract notions that bolster this one, like a general pessimism about life or the world or whatever. A general "don't try, you won't succeed" mentality. Or something. I don't know exactly. You get what I'm saying? And then I get caught in the wind of this and my depression increases.
Like maybe the same sorts of general beliefs which deflate the radicalism of radicals also deflate other tendencies, deflate other passions and optimisms and so on. Right? You see?
I don't think this is probably happening. I put it at like 5% odds some psyop shit is contributing to my depression. I know that the general vibe of online discourse contributes to my depression, but I think it's most likely that that's just how it is, you know, that's just how the discourse is.
Well whatever. If you're a secret agent I know you're too indoctrinated for this to mean anything, but can you stop? Secret agent shit is bad, it harms people, and you shouldn't do it. I mean it's one thing if you're like counter-intelligencing some other country's agency or whatever I get why you would do that, but if you're just doing manipulative secret agent shit to random innocent people "for the greater good" I can promise you it's not actually for the greater good, it's just some fucked up shit you're doing to some poor guy. Leave people alone.
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mocksart · 10 months
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for your borrower au! how is Stanley treated in general before the narrator realizes he is sentient? what's the worst thing the narrator might do to Stanley in this time period? what is the softest moment?
sorry for all the questions, I just love this idea a LOT. g/t stuff is SOOO compelling to me :3
Hey, no worries, I love questions! If you can't tell, I also love this idea a lot lol
It is important to me to make it clear that the narrator is not intentionally cruel. He still sees Stanley as a living being with needs and wants.
Stanley is fed well - mostly seeds and grains due to his mouse-like appearance. This isn't wrong, as mice are also omnivores, though it does get a little boring. So basics like food and water are always available.
Of course, he is kept in a cage.
In my head, it's more akin to the ones rabbits are kept in, rather than mice or rats, but that's mostly due to me being more familiar with rabbits. Also the mental image of metal bars is more compelling to me than the plastic tubs that mice are usually kept in.
Standard bedding situation. It's less comfortable than his pile of fabric scraps at home, but it's not unbearable by any means.
The Narrator has a habit of talking to himself, and this turns into a sort of half-talking to Stanley as well. When he does directly address stanley, though, it's usually because he's frustrated with something Stanley is or is not doing. Plus, as in the game, the man is not above petty insults.
I've thought a bit more on it and I think it might be more fair to say that, rather than not realizing, the narrator can't admit that Stanley is sentient.
Subconsciously, he knows. He can see how smart Stanley is. How Stanley responds to his words. But he can't bring that thought into his conscious mind. Because the man has already done some terribly dehumanizing things to this creature. And admitting that this thing is a person would mean that he's an absolute monster. And he's not! Haha really, guys, he wouldnt do that!
The worst thing he does, especially early on, is leave Stanley alone. At one time, the borrower would have jumped at the opportunity to have some time to himself, just not like this. The basement lab is dark and lonely. Being in this environment for long stretches of time takes a toll on the borrower's mental health.
As time goes on, the Narrator does realize something is wrong. Subject 427 used to have so much more energy. It hardly tries to escape and barely protests when handled. He semi-correctly guesses that 427 needs some kind of enrichment.
He has Stanley for a few months before the borrower manages to escape. Toward the end of that time, he starts bringing Stanley up out of the basement (always in a container of some kind) to show the borrower around and talk to him about his old escapades. (This is where we learn that the narrator is quite well-traveled, and that he no longer leaves the relative safety of his own home.) And there are some genuine moments of connection that happen.
---
Much later on the narrator absolutely mortified by his own past behavior. The man never thought he was capable of causing harm like that, much less unthinkingly.
(He doesn't like to talk about it, a fact that Stanley uses to his advantage sometimes to get what he wants.)
The Narrator works hard to redeem himself as best as he can. He knows there's no way to fully make up for what he's done, but he tries anyway. Because underneath all his issues and traumas and poor coping mechanisms is a person who strives to be better. He wants it so badly. But for a long time it seemed like every time he tried, he just made it worse. So he stopped trying.
Being around another person, especially one who was absolutely not taking his bullshit, reawakened that part of himself that had been buried for so long.
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allgoldenelite · 7 months
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ok, as a kinda sorta quasi continuation of this, i'm gonna dump some more thoughts i've had lately about kenny, don, and everything.
cw for abusive relationships, toxic behavior, manipulation
first of all, i'm gonna give credit where credit is due: the storyline as it stands rn has had some things added to it which i would never have thought a wrestling story dare add, let alone handle well. some of it is more subtext and some of it is more out there, but so far i have found that the elements i examined and interpreted only ever enhanced my reading of the kenny omega character, so i've personally enjoyed them as enrichment of the text.
don callis is a sociopathic abuser (there's some subtext there that could be read to mean the abuse is also sexual). the first part he's said so himself, and the second part...well, there's enough material there now to write a book about, but i just want to make sure we're all on the same page here. all those times when him (and kenny!) during the collector run made sure to remind the audience that callis has been in kenny's life since he was 6 (or 10; neither of them are consistent with it) years old were sickeningly recontextualized when kenny said in his sitdown with JR that don fed him substances and started drilling him for wrestling by cutting him off from outside interests and friends pretty much as soon as he entered his life. and in don's sitdown with JR, he of course proclaims it was all because the golden sheik and kenny's family had told him to take care of kenny, so he was merely acting out of selflessness and philanthropy.
but what don did was essentially create a deeply, deeply traumatized weapon. it's all there in kenny's vtrs, moves and akas (the cleaner, the best bout machine, terminator dive, calling himself an unstoppable android, saying he wants to be a weapon for njpw). a cold, clinical thing that others decide what to do with, controlled and manipulated by others (well, i say others, but basically it always come back to don callis), and which exists without its own agency. that thread even comes back in his collector run during a segment with christian cage, where christian correctly pins down what's been happening all this time ("i don't know what's weirder, don, the fact that you manipulated a 10 year old kenny omega, or that the adult kenny omega is still letting it happen."). and as abuse and trauma go, kenny was (and in some ways still is) continuing the cycle in how he treats people close and important to him like take, bucks, hangman, and so on.
now, the don abuser backstory is mostly meant to be read when looking at the latter half of kenny's time in njpw and especially his aew career, but imo you could even go as far with the reading as saying that his time in ddt was like an escape from don for kenny, something he did for himself for a change (maybe the first and only time he did something for himself), rather than for don or because he wanted to prove he's the best. and then you look at the way this is all breaking down because of jealousy and feelings of inadequacy and deeply rooted fear, and you go, of course, the poor guy has so built his entire being and sense of self-worth around winning and recognition of superiority that as soon as that doesn't come in a steady stream (or is indeed threatened by different, unknown and scary feelings such as actually wanting to be the no 2, not the no 1) his mental and emotional health just collapses like a house of cards.
either way, all kenny has known his entire life is wrestling. and the largest swath of that wrestling life has been spent trying to prove he's unbeatable and immortal, while repeatedly having difficulties accepting love and help from others and pushing those closest to him away. and don callis takes credit for all of it.
but here's the thing. in a way, he's right, about taking credit for the winning. of course, from don's twisted perspective, he is right; he spent nearly every waking hour "preparing" kenny for wrestling and pulling strings behind the scenes (seriously, the guy claims to have connections to the european parliament, for crying out loud) to pave his path of destruction through multiple promotions. but the cut runs deeper than that. because ever since don turned on kenny, kenny's been losing, a lot, and commentary and other characters have been picking up on that fact. the fact that, as it seems for right now, without don callis, kenny isn't the winner he so desires to be. he's not just lost singles but random tags or multimans as well, and if he does win, he's getting crucifixed to the ropes and getting his head smashed in with a chair. kenny had the bucks back at his side but that didn't fix it. the elite welcomed hangman back into their midst, but that didn't fix it. ibushi came back to reform the golden elite but that didn't fix it. kenny kept falling down.
so now what?
i don't have an answer. i've seen some discussion lately about kenny's questionable or lackluster performance in this story. as in, not his in-ring kayfabe performance, but the actor's performance. some people say they noticed him having less energy than usual or looking like he's not all there at times, like his head isn't fully in the game, and that translating to how the character is perceived (or not perceived; he's been notably absent from a lot of recent btes, but that could also be due to how little actual story there is on bte these days) and backstage segments when viewers were expecting him to have a comment or a role in response to something that happened in the story).
the thing is...normally i don't really care too much? i'll get angry at this and that in front of the tv and say my peace on it, and then maybe a week later it'll flare back up if the wound's getting picked, but aside from that i don't care about wrestling, and especially not shoot stuff, enough to give a shit. dude could have a million reasons why he's not having the time of his life right now and by no means is he obligated to be in every little thing that happens. he's done enough.
but if you caught him on the street fighter stream he did for crown, it was night and day. it's like he was a different person. which is to say, it leads me to believe that this unmotivated, somewhat muted version of kenny we're seeing on our screens right now is part of the story. that don had his hooks so deep in kenny and yanked them out with such force that all that's left there now is mangled flesh. it reminded me of how kenny reacted when don got attacked by bcc and wasn't available to second him for his match vs jeff cobb: when the news were brought to him he seemed immediately crestfallen and made his entrance looking noticeably intimidated and distracted. like the reliance on don had been so strong and so deeply ingrained for so many years that he legitimately didn't know what to do. no manipulator to pull the trigger.
but still the question remains, what's the cure going to be, if none of the things i listed earlier helped? because at the end of the day this is still a story that involves wrestling, and altho the thought has crossed my mind that maybe this is going to be one of the very very few wrestling stories that do not equate a happy ending with a victory in the ring, i think at least somewhere along the road they will want to show kenny's rejuvenation via a win or two. so, what's it going to take to make that happen, when everything is said and done? i've followed people discussing that one way would be for him to go back to the drawing board specifically in japan (ddt, ibushi, you see where this is going), and of course that'd be very exciting and interesting, but somehow it feels to me like that's not the route they're taking. i'd be happy to be wrong, yet so far there haven't been any signs that i could decipher that that's a possibility in the story, and when kenny said at the wrestledream scrum that his primary focus is on aew in the us, it only reinforced that feeling for me.
this is a slightly different topic, but in addition, there's continued criticism about the confusing or meandering way the story flip-flops between seemingly portraying kenny as all alone and distraught and in need of help and not being any of those things the next week. this one i kinda have to agree with.
i'm not tired of the story in a way that some people are; i think there's still stones left to turn and interesting threads to pull on and characters to explore. but i do think it's been dragged out a little bit too much at times and that it has felt sluggish during some of those stretches, just like how the elite stories did after they came back up until they suddenly pressed the turbo button and kenny was best friends with hangman again. as a result, it has felt meandering, altho i do not agree with the criticism that there isn't anything left to do for both parties in the feud. don said he was going to cut out the elite and that he isn't anywhere near being done with that. it just remains to be seen what kenny's and by extension the elite's motivation in this all will be.
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uh-velkommen · 5 months
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More Thoughts On Gen V:
Mental Health:
I've been watching some reviews on the show and I think one thing that constantly gets overlooked is the conversation around Mental Health. Initially it's Emma who is the purger, her ED is linked to her powers (or so she thinks). Then we learn that its more so about her feeling small, being made to think she is unworthy or nothing. Marie is a self-harmer, whether or not you see it that way, she needs to hurt herself in order to use her powers (for now). It could go one of two ways, she hurts herself and then excuses it as "using her powers" (much like Emma) or it's just a bad habit that is subconsciously linked to her emotions (again, like Emma) and I don't think we'll get a clear answer on that until the next season within The Boys - Cinematic Universe (TBCU). But just think about how many times we see her cut to use her powers in the height of a negative emotion versus when she uses them through other means. Most important of all though: The fact that everyone in The Woods who was given Compound V, has a mental illness or disorder. We know this because Dean Shetty, who runs the thing, talks about her experience as a Phycologist and Sam quite literally has Schizophrenia. She chose to experiment with these children in particular because who would want mentally unstable kids with super powers running around? These kids, to her and the rest of the world, are disposable. They are dangerous, until controlled. Now think about Emma and Marie, aren't they dangerous? Well, no, because their illnesses are "hidden." And it's a perfect commentary on how we talk about mental illnesses today. Everyone wants to raise awareness about mental health until they're met with an illness that has potential to villainize the person who has it.
Gender Queerness:
I love Jordan Li! I think the backstory, having them be Chinese and their Dad sharing how proud he was to have given birth to a son where gender preferences with children is still such a hot topic in Chinese culture, was a brilliant move. I think about how if Jordan had never been given Compound V, they probably still would've experienced issues with their gender identity. The Compound V gave them a gift. (I like to think that Compound V only emphasizes something within the individual, like with Emma and her almond mom or the invisible dude and his perviness but I haven't seen enough evidence to prove this canon). And when Jordan and Marie got together I was so happy to see a Lesbian Protagonist double POC interracial relationship on steroids, except whenever they were together, Boy Jordan would appear and I got mad at the show for being heteronormative. But once again, TBCU came through and gave Jordan the opportunity to talk about how they feel like they have to be a boy for Marie, opening the floor for that conversation to happen between the two sometime in the future. It's a point on having to perform to make other people comfortable. The last thing was something I didn't even notice until Marie pointed out, was how Jordan always turns into a boy when they want to be heard or when they need authority. It's a beautiful note on how aware Jordan is of the privileges that come with passing as a boy. Jordan works with the patriarchy even if not fully intentional. It's the inherent entitlement that is instilled in men and the cultural influences that queer people have to actively unlearn in order to fully be themselves. (Also I feel like I made some poor word choices in the last bit. I'm not anti-men, just couldn't think of another way to say it😅)
Racism:
This part is so simple yet it didn't click in my brain until just now. Throughout the entire show we are being fed the idea that Vought could not have too many POC in the spotlight at once. There's no way a bigender Asian kid could be number one. We can only have one Black person in The Seven at a time. But we're watching this show under the guise that we will get a happy ending. The good guys are going to win this... Did you forget what show you were watching too? Homelander shows up at the end and we think the fighting will stop, until he damn near uses a slur at Marie. The NEW Guardians of Godolkin are two blonde-haired, blue-eyed, do-gooders and we realize that the finale had been foreshadowed the entire time: The minorities can never come on top.
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faithrainee · 1 month
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What really would have happened if Peter B hadn't been sent to Miles' dimension? Because as silly and Haha-I'm-Depressed Peter makes his life out to be in his introduction, he really did look like he was at the lowest point in his life. I also think it's interesting that Peter has, from what we see, no job at all. I don't think it's mentioned, though the Wikia's mention the Daily Bugle, I have no memory of that in ITSV.
But regardless of if my memory is right or not, most incarnations of Spider-Man that are meant to be of working age have some sort of job. Usually working at the Daily Bugle, doing a science position, or something else; unless they're being supported by Aunt May or, like the Homecoming Spider-Man, Tony Stark and SHIELD, for the most part.
It's interesting to me that we've never really seen a Spider-Man so depressed as this one, besides Far From Home's Spider-Man, though I feel it's not the same, as Peter in that movie is meant to be younger. Even Far From Home's Tobey and Andrew cameos don't seem to be doing that bad, just tired and melancholic.
I've read some fics discussing how Peter might have ended his own life if the Miles dimension situation hadn't happened to him, and I think that isn't too far-fetched to believe. However, I think an accident would probably be more likely, especially one from his Spiderman duties.
He was out of shape, he admits that, and he didn't really seem to have much to live for, being completely alone with no family at all. He wasn't inspired to talk to MJ by anyone, so she would have likely remarried to someone else after believing he wasn't interested in her anymore from his lack of initiative. People can't wait forever, and maybe she would have thought he wasn't going to change his mind about having children.
I do think his dimension might have had his narrative doomed from the start. I think he would be fighting a villain one day, with everyone surprised he was actually out fighting for once. Maybe he felt a little inspired to go touch grass that day as a civilian and a villain just happened to show up. He's fighting, slowly realizing that damn, this is harder than it used to be.
Maybe he gets thrown and injures his back again, leaving him paralyzed or somewhat disabled. That would likely, down the road, without any intervention from others in his life, leave him completely depressed. Not to mention New York City apartment + medical bills + single man = serious debt. Not sure how long he'd live if that happened, even if he dealt with his disability just fine, he was already hopeless in ITSV.
And the city finds out Spider-Man is just Some Guy. And they mourn that loss, because their hero for 20- hell, 30 something years at that point, was facing the same issues they were and he couldn't take it anymore and none of them knew before it was too late.
Or maybe it's less depressing than that. Maybe he gets crushed by rubble, the city shocked at the loss of their hero. And in revealing him to be some average Joe, they mourn a little, but move on. Someone probably replaces him after that, or the city just has higher crime rates than before.
Maybe he gets beaten to death by the villain, similar to Miles' dimension's Peter. Authorities find him, then, the city might have mixed feelings. He should've been stronger. How could he not have taken down that villain? He used to be at his prime, poor man had it coming. We didn't need him anymore anyways. Etc.
I'd just love to see more takes on Peter's existence without Miles intervention. His Spider-Man is so interesting to me because I feel we don't see a lot of older Spider-Men except in the comics. And we don't see a lot of older men struggling with mental health in media. Period.
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recurring-polynya · 10 months
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Bleach Returns Day 7: Always by your side / Betrayal / History
Got the trifecta on this one, baby, but it wasn't that hard, because Kubo loves packaging these three things together (if you allow interpreting 'history' as 'long personal history together', which I do).
Anyway, I'm never not thinking about Ichigo and Renji's first fight, and for a long time, I've been thinking about what happened immediately after Byakuya, Rukia and Renji returned to Soul Society, specifically that Rukia had to be extracted from her gigai by Squad 2 and then thrown in a holding cell and I am sure B didn't stick around for all that, which makes this the first private conversation Rukia and Renji got to have in 40 years.
| ao3 | ff.net | 2225 words, rated Teen for cussin' (tbf they both had a lot to cuss about)
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How many Onmitsukidou operatives does it take to get one soul out of a gigai? Renji wonders idly to himself. There is no punchline. All of this is one big joke, but certainly not the funny kind.
“This would probably go a lot faster if we could take her down to one of our medical units,” the Squad 2 spook who appears to be in charge of this shitshow says, sidling up to Renji. “Sir.”
“Sure,” says Renji. “Let’s go.”
“You don’t have clearance to accompany us, sir, but--”
“Then, no.”
“I could go fetch our Vice-Captain, if that would reassure you.”
“Go ahead,” Renji replies, calling the man’s bluff. Dealing with that blowhard Omaeda would really put the icing on the clusterfuck this entire night has been. On the other hand, it’s 2am, and even though the only part of this poor ninja’s face he can see is the eyes, he can tell how badly this guy does not want to have to go wake up his awful boss.
Renji makes a mental note to make sure all his subordinates know that he’d much rather be woken up at 2am than to catch wind later that they tried to start shit with some other squad’s vice-captain.
Fortunately, Rukia, whose timing is impeccable as always, manages to finally part ways with her horrible bootleg gigai, drawing in a huge breath of air with a loud, raspy gasp.
“How much soul fixer did you take?” one of the other spooks asks her pointedly. “That stuff is terrible for you.”
Rukia tells the guy to blow it out his ass, and Renji’s heart skips three beats. For the last few hours, he’s been studying her, watching, listening, trying to figure out if there’s anything of his Rukia left in her at all. The only thing that’s seemed familiar was that charade she put on at the end, acting all high and mighty and offended on the behalf of her noble brother. It’s been 40 years, but there was something in her posture, the resonance of her voice…classic tells of Rukia doing a bit. Maybe she wasn’t doing a bit, though. Maybe that’s just Rukia-as-Kuchiki. Renji’s spent more than a few sleepless nights wondering how in five realms Rukia would manage to turn herself into a noble. Faking it ‘til she made it was usually at the top of the list, but maybe her Kuchiki self would always have a ring of falsehood to it.
Captain Kuchiki often seems like he is doing a bit, too.
“I want a receipt for that gigai,” Renji announces.
The spook does a full-body cringe, and slouches off, muttering unflattering things about the Sixth Division. Renji doesn’t care. Hard-ass, rule-abiding vice-captain of Kuchiki squad is not a bit. It’s who he is now.
When the receipt comes, it’s actually a petty cash voucher with “GIGAI” written in the “Received” column, but it’s got a mostly legible signature and Squad 2 letterhead, and also it’s two in the fucking a.m., so Renji takes it.
“You need to borrow a pair of shackles?” the spook asks dryly. “Can put that on the receipt, too.”
Renji’s blood stops flowing, just for a second. Rukia is watching him. He hadn’t thought about this. She’s come along willingly up until now. He wishes he could trust her to continue in the same vein, but he can’t, both because she’s not trustworthy, and because the Vice-Captain of the Sixth isn’t a guy who lets his guard down on account of old friendships.
“No,” he says, and Rukia’s eyes narrow, ever so slightly. He jerks his chin at her. “Hands behind your back, if you don’t mind. Don’t need any dislocated shoulders.”
Her face becomes passive again as he casts bakudou number one on her. It’s easy enough that he doesn’t embarrass himself, although with the way this night has been going, it would certainly be no surprise.
A few minutes later, they step out into the night air, free of Squad 2 at last. There’s a breeze, which downgrades the humidity from “insufferable” to “unpleasant”, even just briefly. A thunderstorm was just finding its legs when they left the World of the Living. Renji wishes they would get one here, too, but it doesn’t seem to be in the cards.
The streets are empty at this time of night. Rukia looks straight ahead as they walk. There’s a hollowness to her eyes.
Renji’s not an idiot. Well. He is, but he’s not a fucking idiot. Rukia is not a person who shares her heart easily, but it’s because when she does, she carves off an entire piece and dumps it in your hands, bloody and tender. Why the Hell she would do so for some human kid is absolutely beyond Renji. They only live for about five days anyway and everything they do is absolutely nonsensical. Maybe some of it was that weird gigai. Probably messed with her head. She’ll likely be fine in a few hours. Well. Maybe not fine, but at least worried about the things she ought to be worrying about.
Renji thinks about all the things he had planned out to say to her. He had spent hours rolling them around in his head all through his last weeks at Squad Eleven. Even wrote some down on paper in little bulleted lists, like the study guides Momo used to make when they were at the Academy. He can’t say any of them now. He can’t say them because Rukia boned a routine mission so thoroughly that at least three other squads had gotten pulled into it. He can’t say them because, in his idiotic confidence that there had to be some logical explanation for all of it, that he and Captain Kuchiki would be able to swoop in and make things right for her, that he made both an asshole of himself and lost a fight pathetically, to a child. Finally, he can’t say them to her, because he is the Vice-Captain of the Sixth. And she is his prisoner.
Renji has never been much of an apologizer, and Rukia isn’t a person who requires apologies, but the absence of one hangs heavy between them. He can’t apologize for following orders though. Vice-Captain of the Sixth strikes again.
“You really didn’t need to stand there and glower at them for every second of that,” Rukia says, in a way that sounds like she’s talking to herself, but he knows is directed at him. “You’ve gotta feel kinda disgusting.”
Renji bristles. “What I feel is none of your business. Someone’s in my custody, and you think I’m gonna leave them alone with a bunch of slimy Squad 2 spooks for a single second?”
Rukia stares at him for a long moment. “I just meant that you could have gone to the washroom. You do know your face is covered in blood, right?”
Renji’s hand goes reflexively to his forehead. It feels mostly dried, at least. “Oh,” he says stupidly.
“Your chin, too.”
Renji grinds his teeth.
“It’s fine,” Rukia says lightly. “Impressive, I suppose, to someone who didn’t see how it happened. You certainly intimidated the shit out of those Squad Two morons.” She cocks an eyebrow at him slyly. “You gotta handkerchief on you? Let me out of this bind, I’ll wipe off your face for you.”
He tips his head to the side and regards her out of the corner of his eye. “Not a chance.”
“I had to give it a try,” she sniffs. “It’s not as if you wouldn’t catch me in two seconds if I tried to give you the slip.”
“Give it up,” he warns. “It won’t work on me. I know you too well.”
Rukia falls quiet and he regrets saying it. Forty years of working to raise himself to her level, and it feels like all he can do is remind her where they both came from.
“Renji,” she says, after a long pause, “about that.”
“Forget it,” he says.
She ignores him, just as she always has. “It wasn’t fair of me,” she says, “to grab your arm like that.”
He wishes he had to wrack his brain to figure out what she’s talking about, but the memory of tiny fingers wrapping over his knuckles, her knee jabbing the soft space between his shoulder blades, the sudden familiar weight of her hanging off his back.
Even without her powers, Rukia is still a soldier. She knows pressure points. She had access to his throat, his windpipe, his carotid. But instead, she grabbed his sword hand. A request. A plea, maybe. Don’t do it. Let him live.
She weighs nothing. Her gigai had the strength of a human girl. The only thing staying his arm was the unspeakable weight of their history together.
Time freezes. In Renji’s mind, the human kid’s fingers close on the hilt of his stupid, oversized sword.
Renji sparred against Rukia at the Academy, and they used to scrap as kids, sometimes more seriously than others, but Rukia has always had his back when it really mattered.
If Kurosaki had the least idea of what he was actually doing, he probably could have run Renji straight through, and Renji would have just stood there, his mouth hanging open like an idiot. He keeps telling himself that this was not Rukia’s intent. Maybe she thought better of his battle reflexes. He sure wishes he did. She only expected the kid to run. She probably has no idea how much hold she still has on his heart. Or, y’know. Maybe not. To all of it.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Rukia grumbles. “I don’t regret it. I would do it again. I’m just saying that it wasn’t fair of me to ask that much of you.”
“If you think I got my ass kicked as some sort of favor to you, you’re giving yourself a little too much credit,” Renji grunts. “That incompetence was 100% genuine and unfaked, but thanks for the show of confidence.”
“Oh, no, that was obvious.” She sighs and falls quiet.
He wonders what she thinks he would have done, if it had turned out he had any say in the matter. Does she think he would have spared Ichigo? Is this her inscrutable, Rukia version of a thank you? Or does she think he would have killed the kid, that leniency was too big an ask, and she doesn’t particularly hold it against him? Maybe she’s asking him to explain himself. What difference would it make? From her point of view, he has no particular incentive to tell her the truth, only whatever he wants her to hear.
“You…you can’t have worked for my brother for very long,” she finally says in a way that implies she’s not entirely sure of this fact. “You definitely didn’t work for him before I left, did you?”
“I just started,” Renji assures her.
“Well, then, maybe you don’t know him very well, but--”
“I know him well enough.”
Rukia’s mouth hangs open for a second. She licks her lips. “I see.” And then she smiles. Just a small one. Maybe a little bit rueful.
“What?” Renji demands peevishly. “What, exactly, do you see?”
“Just that you know, then. That he hates leaving things half done. That for as cool as he sounded, it probably caused him physical pain to leave Ichigo there without finishing him off.”
“You asked him to,” Renji shrugs. “It was a favor.” Her hand on his sword arm. A dramatic performance of a dutiful, penitent sister. Rukia always knows just the right way to ask for what she wants.
“You probably know that he’s not too generous with favors, either,” Rukia points out. “You could have reminded him that leaving humans with illicitly gained shinigami powers to expire of their wounds isn’t proper procedure.”
Renji doesn’t reply.
“You didn’t though.”
That’s right. He didn’t. It didn’t even occur to him. It should have. But Vice-Captain of the Sixth is still something he has to think about doing, and slipping into the support role on one of Rukia’s grifts has always been as natural as breathing.
Renji can see Squad Six’s gate up ahead. He is so tired. He just wants this night to be over.
“I woulda gone along with just about anything if it would get you to stop digging yourself a grave so deep you were about to break through to Hell, okay?”
She hums in agreement and makes a small nod.
“You’re such a pain in my ass, you know that, Rukia?”
She gives a soft snort. “Yeah,” she says, “I know.”
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winterpower98 · 2 years
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Random thought: remember how in the food wars episode the twins don't actually know how to cook? Headcanon that in the cursed AU, Macaque notices that their entire diet consist of eather take out or microwaved food, so he takes over cooking for them. 'Couse obviously he can't have his "underlings" getting sick from poor food.
Oh buddy, you just reminded me of something I've forgotten to share
So a while ago (Correction: October of last year) I proposed an idea to my friends and, well... let me just copy paste what I wrote
(this turned out so long)
I got an idea for another potential interaction between the Twins and Macaque. MK invited Macaque to eat with him and all his friends once. Wukong and the Twins were also invited. The Twins spend almost all of their time with Mei, while Wukong loudly narrates one of his stories to the rest of the group. Macaque doesn't really speak much, and only chimes in to share information that Wukong might have "forgotten" (aka he left it out of his narration because it was embarrassing and Macaque had to correct that like the bastard that he is). But when Mac wasn't correcting Wukong, he noticed the Twins doing something weird. While one of the twins is talking to Mei, the other will take a bit of the food from his plate and swipe it into a satchel next to him. Macaque doesn't say anything during the get-together but makes a mental note. After that, he asks both twins (in two different moments and when the other sibling isn't present) why they stole food that was freely given to them. Obviously, both twins try to deny it and fail miserably at it. But Macaque decides not to push the argument, after all the food was already given to them for free, so they did no harm. But, after that, Macaque chucked food at the Twins from time to time. Most of the time were apples, sometimes mangoes or plumbs. Macaque suddenly understands why they built half of their stuff with junk and why they get in trouble so often. And it's not like Mei didn't notice that the Twins started to hang around the dojo more often, even sometimes watching Mei and Macaque's training sessions. They do get a bit nervous that their boss is giving them more attention, but I don't know if they would figure out what's happening on their own or not
Mei: I think Mackie is starting to like you guys more! Yin: He throw an apple at my face the other day?? Mei: It's how he shows he cares! Yin: !?
Tang: I see you have a rival for child adopter of the year Pigsy: what Or, if it wasn't for their food crimes Pigsy would have already called dibs
And it gets better!
It makes Jin and Yin pay closer attention and maybe even start to notice things themselves. It probably helps that some demons they encountered decided not to mess with them because they are "under the Six Eared Demon's protection"
Yin and Jin are like 'What!?' and then are like 'Do we dare ask?'
They toss a coin to see who has to go and ask, but they still end up fighting about it because neither of them wants to ask! The boss is intimidating! And not just that, the repercussion! They don't know how he'll react! And what if he decides they are too annoying anymore and doesn't want them to work for him anymore? They're scared of rejection, they've been on their own for so long! It's the first time it's not just the two of them plus, if Macaque did send them away, they would surely lose their little sister too.
Macaque notice the boys are acting differently around him now, they're not great at hiding things. Pinning them down to talk is going to be easy, he has to just ask them looking even just mildly upset and they would probably spill the beans quite quickly. The problem is when, because Mei and MK can't be there obviously. And Jin and Yin are always up to something, so getting them when the situation isn't tricky or that could become dangerous is a bit complicated. The gold and silver demons become wise to what their boss is trying to do and they do their damn best to always have Mei or MK near. 
Macaque is exasperated, Wukong thinks this is hilarious.
Wukong: This is the best drama I've watched in centuries! 
Macaque: Shut up and help me out already!
Wukong has to help him in the end. He likes the show but this has been going on for almost a month now. So Wukong plays distraction with MK and Mei, allowing Macaque to finally pin Yin and Jin down to talk.
Now the problem is when the twins finally confess. Because Macaque was not ready for that answer and he is severely underqualified to do anything.
Now, the sensible thing to do now would be for Macaque to buckle down and ask Pigsy for help, but we all know he won't do that. It took so much out of him to ask Wukong for help! He'll probably ask Mei and MK if he gets desperate enough... Which he might be already.
He's not going to ask for help from people who have more experience than him! it would be like admitting he can't do this, or that he cares enough to try!
So he'll just... leave the twins be, and just casually tell Mei what happened in their next training session. Mei finds Macaque coming to her for advice on anything funny, but once she learns what it is exactly she becomes concerned
Mei's to-do list now has:
1) Make sure the twins have a supply of food hidden in their hideout.
2) Make them understand she won't hesitate to dropkick Macaque if he ever sends them away.
3) Goddamit Makkie you'll have to learn how to take care of this yourself
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freebooter4ever · 3 months
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Blah blah blah about love under the cut
One thing about daphne and the duke - she says these things, and immediately things magically work out because its TV fantasy land. But...at least in my limited experience...it takes a long time for the nice things to sink in past the bad things. Like it would take the patience of somebody repeating those words across a longer span of time.
There was one thing that startled me with my latest romantic failure - and it had absolutely nothing to do with pilot boy himself.
see, i have never really understood the whole 'bringing someone home to meet the parents' and how big of a deal it was in movies and books. It always baffled me. I never cared what my parents thought of people i dated or wanted to date and the only person i ever brought home was The Ex in 2010 and even then it was less 'do you approve?' and more 'i love him and idgaf about your opinon but i want to show him off'. My poor Ex endured an entire two hour long interrogation by my grandparents and i had to hold his hand the entire time, he was very shy.
BUT now, here in LA, i met my friend over at the artist's house, and that was in 2018 so a number of years ago. And slowly, over the years, i've grown closer and closer with them and their family, and they've kinda been a guide in this city. And there was that one time in 2019 where someone automatically assumed i was their daughter and neither of us corrected the person lol. And i have kind of basically been adopted by their family, even despite my best attempts to keep a respectful distance during like holidays and stuff. But i still go to them first whenever i have problems, and some days i have no idea how i ever lived without them. And everytime i think i have fucked up and made a mistake we remain friends - or apologize to each other if necessary, and things always always return to that warm, platonic, familial love.
and you know, for the fist time, ever, in my entire life....when i was dating Pilot Boy, i realized that Bringing The Significant Other Home To Meet Family was a big deal for me. And it was going to mean bringing him to the artist's house. Of course, Pilot Boy and i never got into a serious enough relationship to reach that point, but i definitely had a bit of an existential crisis over realizing that i actually wanted to hear the judgement of someone who was like a parent to me. I don't even know how to explain how much of a change of mindset it was, how odd it felt. And it's not like I have never dated anyone else in LA - there was Hiker Boy for like 3ish years of casual dating and not once did i even think about it. And that one guy E, who i didn't even mention to my friend. Like, this was definitely an accumulation of slowly starting to trust that the concept of having a 'parent' figure in my life was a good thing, rather than something scary.
I remember my mother would go through phases. If she was single suddenly she would go on rants about how being single was the normal thing and anyone who believed they could stay coupled forever was abnormal and weird. I never minded this phase because i was always single so always met that approval. But the other phase, when she was in a relationship, meant that she would talk about how anybody who wasn't in a relationship was weird and probably repulsive, and how being in a couple is the natural order of things (unless its a gay couple in which case absolutely they can marry but dont have children because it will fuck the kids up mentally). And of course during these times she would berate me for never dating.
And then one time when i was 24 two things happened: that summer she visited me in pittsburgh and escalated from emotional/verbal abuse and slapping to full physical abuse. And then months later when i visited my grandparents in seattle she invited me to a 'wine tasting and cooking lesson' with some VIPs at her work. And i went, and it was in this industrial area of seattle with this ridiculously fancy farm to table rich people type kitchen set up. And the chef was this ridiculously tall dark and handsome young man about my age from argentina. I was flustered, and the guy totally knew it, and found it funny. I could barely string two words together and he was teasing me the whole night, kept picking me for the demonstrations, etc, you know how it goes. It was very entertaining and i appreciated he at least wasnt being mean about my obvious attraction to him.
Anyway by the end of the night my mom was visibly tipsy. This scared the shit out of me. My mom is mean when she doesn't drink, but when she has just the right amount of alochol she's totally normal and fully functional and you don't notice. So the fact that i could see her slurring her speech and being unable to walk straight meant she had more than her normal amount which meant a LOT. And as we said goodnight to the fancy VIPs she was embarrassing herself in front of, and walking to her car, she turned to me and said 'you know the chef was flirting with you all night'. And i was fully prepared to correct her because at that point i'd had at least one boyfriend and thought i knew what flirting was and teasing isnt the same at all. But i didnt get a chance because she also said something like: 'he was only flirting with you because you were the only person his age in the entire room. That's the type of guy who only goes for pretty girls, not you.' and then she wouldn't let me take her keys to drive us home. And i was too scared of her to force her to give them to me. And that was the last time i've seen my mom. Because her driving home so drunk she was obviously mentally and physically impaired was the last straw for me - one of my friends mothers was killed by a drunk driver when we were kids. And if i was too scared of my mom to do my part to stop that from ever happening again, then it was time for me to admit i couldnt handle this. Its been 11 years and i dont regret it, although sometimes i still have nightmares of her finding me and gaining control over me again like when i was a kid. But i also never forgot that comment - that explained so much. How she would rant about how weird it was that i was single, but she never really truly believed i was the kind of girl anybody would want as a 'girlfriend' anyway.
Contrast this with my friend at the artist house. Who at one low point this week, i called up to cry on their shoulder over work drama and how helpless i felt. And somehow they mixed up the current situation with Pilot Boy. And they started talking about the kind of ideal person they imagined me dating, and said a lot of stuff about someone who 'saw me for how wonderful i was' - i dont know honestly i couldnt listen to most of it, my brain just tuned it out. And i laughed and corrected them that no the person i was dating a month ago was 'Pilot Boy' and this guy currently was someone who - under no circumstances even if it meant being single forever - i wouldn't want to date. And then i stopped and thought for a little bit and realized that if i can change my mind about not wanting to ever have a parent in my life, and have those 'normal' things like the 'bring a date home to meet the parents' type experiences... That maybe one day the conviction in me that believes nobody would ever choose to date me or value me or consider me worthwhile....that maybe that could change too. And then maybe my friend's speech about someone valuing me wasnt so totally unbelievable and impossible. It still seems extremely farfetched to me, and I'm totally happy with just being able to know that my friend at least genuinely believes someone should be able to romantically love me one day. Like that's way more than i've ever had before. I should be grateful for that.
Anyway, yeah, if penelope's arc is something like that....then i might be interested. Because all we've seen from penelope's mother is her dismissing her daughter over and over again as being nothing worthwhile.
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