#I think I need to try and get screened again for mental issues

[icewindandboringhorror]

One of the interesting bits of trying to resume working on the game after so long is looking back at my ancient Draft Placeholder versions of an image from 4 yrs ago trying to remember what the hell I meant back then, to hopefully interpret it into some more final (ish..) form of the same thing .. making slow progress lol

[teawithcherries]

wrong number

Ghost receives a text that leaves him absolutely reeling. OR the guy that you texted on accident is weirdly flirtatious and you're kind of into it?

1.1k words. lieutenant!Ghost x chef!reader (f). reader’s age unclear but 18+ (not a minor!!). divider by @plutism.

Unknown: SOS!!!!

Ghost immediately goes deathly still, eyes zeroing in on the text message notification that blinks across his phone before disappearing.

Having a SAS issued phone means that his phone number should be impossible to find. He doesn’t receive spam texts or calls and the few people who have his number know better than to bother him when he’s on paperwork duty. Which means that something is not right.

His phone buzzes again, and he feels his gut churn sourly.

Unknown: (1 attachment)

He doesn’t have time to think, he just braces himself for the worst. A photo of Johnny bleeding out with a gunshot wound? Coordinates to a location where Gaz is being held hostage? 

He’s already reaching for his kit in case he needs to jump on a helo when the attachment, an image, finally opens up.

The breath that was suspended in his chest slowly releases like a deflated balloon as he tries to make sense of the carnage on his phone screen. Yet, it isn’t one of his squadmates that’s crying out for help. Rather, it’s an image of a Cornish hen that’s been burnt to an absolute charred crisp. 

His mind is racing at a speed that he can’t quite process, his eyes methodically scanning the photo for any clues or hidden messages in the image. 

Yet, even to his trained eye, the image is perfectly normal. The background of the photo is a standard flat kitchen, slightly disorganized with cooking materials and ingredients scattered about. Your feet are visible in the corner of the photo, you’re wearing a pair of girly pajama shorts and bunny slippers.

His brows scrunch together in confusion, thoroughly perplexed and slightly annoyed at the mental gymnastics that he is undertaking to try to make sense of these messages.

Ghost: Who are you?

Your reply is instant, confirming his suspicion that you have truly somehow managed to message him by accident.

Unknown: It’s (♥︎), your classmate from culinary school!

Ghost glances at the image again, brows scrunching in disbelief that you are training to become a chef considering the charred and blackened state of the bird.

Ghost: Wrong number.

Unknown: Ah, how embarrassing. So sorry to disturb you! I must have jotted down my classmate’s number incorrectly during class. Have a lovely rest of your evening! 

That’s that then.

He sighs and sets his phone on his worn desk, glancing back at the mountain of paperwork that awaits him. He’s several hours away from finishing up, and Price will absolutely have his head if doesn't get it all done.

Yet, for reasons he isn't willing to unpack, the image of your bare legs tucked into those ridiculously fuzzy bunny slippers lingers in the back of his mind. His fist twitches, annoyed with himself for getting so hot and bothered over a mere glimpse of bare ankle.

You’re just another nameless, faceless muppet in the void of the digital age. Even responding back to your text message is probably a breach of security protocol that could land him in another hour long cybersecurity training seminar if he isn't careful.

So Ghost isn’t sure why he bothers picking up his phone and typing a message at all, but his thumb hits send before he can ponder it any further.

Ghost: Chicken seems a bit burnt.

Being the asshole that he is, Ghost can’t help but chuckle wryly at his own joke. He figures you’ll probably ignore his message. Maybe you’ll even take offence to it and block his number. So when his phone instantly buzzes with a response, his interest is fully captured.

Unknown: You think? I worried it might be a bit underdone.

The corner of his mouth twitches upward beneath his mask.

Ghost: I could be wrong. You’re the chef after all.

Unknown: Well, there’s plenty to go around if you fancy charcoals and mash.

He's fully smiling now, embarrassingly chuffed that you're playing along.

Ghost: You asking me on a date?

Unknown: Depends. Are you a serial killer?

Ghost: Depends on your definition of a serial killer.

It’s silent after that and Ghost can’t help the kernel of disappointment that takes root in his chest. Easygoing banter is far and few between for the lieutenant who has spent the last 48 hours trying to make sense of the mountain of paperwork that piled up on his desk during his last mission. He was enjoying this exchange with you far more than he cares to admit, and several minutes pass with no response before he glumly locks his phone and returns his attention to his desk.

A full day passes and Ghost accepts that he has scared you off.

Yet he can’t blame you. He knows full well that there are loads of creeps and nut jobs on the Internet who could take advantage of you. And even so, you’d be better off messaging any one of those weirdos rather than him. Because, after all, he’s ... who he is.

Three days later, Ghost is seven kilometers into his evening jog around the training field when his phone buzzes again unexpectedly. His eye twitches but he doesn’t check it right away, chiding himself for the persistent flare of hope in his gut that refuses to be extinguished. He’s been pathetically rushing to his phone with every notification he receives since your last text message came through and feeling disappointed every time it isn’t you.

It’s only when his phone buzzes again that he decides to bite the bullet and check who's texting him.

He’s fully expecting it to be another stupid meme from Soap in the 141 group chat. Which is why he skids to a stop, heart suddenly pounding in his chest, at the sight of a message from your phone number (which he has memorized at this point).

It’s his trigger finger that flies to open your message, eyes fixed intensely, almost nervously, on the pixelated screen of his outdated phone.

You’ve sent him a photo of a sausage roll, a proper sausage roll, that’s cooling on a wire rack in your kitchen. He's already salivating at the sight of the juicy blend of ground meat packed neatly and precisely into a flaky case of golden pastry, as well as the sliver of your bare thigh that's showing in the edge of the photo.

He assumes that you’ve accidentally messaged him again instead of your classmate until he sees the message beneath the image.

Unknown: Just wanted you to know that I’ve been testing some other recipes for our date. 

Unknown: Thoughts on my sausage rolls?

Ghost doesn’t even realize that he’s grinning like a madman until his face starts to twitch uncomfortably. He hasn’t smiled so hard in months, maybe even years, and the mechanics of beaming like a lovesick idiot have almost been forgotten by his stiff facial muscles.

He responds immediately, almost afraid that you might slip through his gloved fingers again if he is even a second too late.

Ghost: That’ll do.

(thoughts on part 2 from reader pov? i want them to talk on the phone and see ghost be all cute n awkward TT)

[moniquesha]

issues

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: You wait for your new therapist, and you also meet Bucky.

a/n: i can't move on from bucky in tfaws, plus this is just so short and cute and very realistic. then maybe i'll continue exfil tonight if i'm up for it.

You sit in the waiting room, hands folded in your lap, trying not to think about how many therapists you’ve been through already. Four, to be exact. None of them worked. But according to your research, the one you’re waiting for now is the best.. At least by reputation. The internet spoke of her impressive roster of clients: super soldiers, unnamed heroes, people who lived through impossible things. You didn’t care about that. Well, maybe a little. If she helped them, maybe she could help you too.

You arrived early. Two hours early, to be exact. The receptionist barely looked up from her screen before instructing you to sit and wait. So you did. And you’ve been waiting ever since. An hour has passed. Boredom claws at you, but the thought of leaving your perfect spot, of somehow being skipped after the hell of booking this session, keeps you locked in place.

Then, the couch shifts.

A presence. Subtle, but heavy. You don’t look at first, too lost in your own head, but eventually, curiosity wins out. A glance to the side, and Bucky.

Yes, that Bucky.

He looks just as out of place as you feel. Maybe more. In his metal hand, he holds a small bouquet of flowers, fingers idly gripping the stems. You don’t pry. You could, but that would require speaking, and you’re not entirely sure you remember how to do that properly. Others would ask for a picture. Maybe even an autograph. You would too, if you had even a shred of confidence in your system.

But damn.

You live in a world with wizards, aliens, reality-warping stones, and tech so advanced it defies logic. And here you are, stuck in your own head, unable to even figure yourself out.

Embarrassing.

Surprisingly he's the one to speak first.

“You here for Doc too?”

It takes a second for your brain to register that, yes, Bucky Barnes just spoke to you.

“Sorry, what?”

He huffs out a small breath, like he expected that response, like he’s used to people not keeping up with him right away. His fingers tighten around the stems of the flowers for a second before he nods toward the office door.

“Doc Christina,” he repeats. “You waiting for her too?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah.” You shift in your seat, suddenly hyper-aware of how stiff you’ve been sitting this whole time. “Took forever to get an appointment.”

Bucky lets out a dry chuckle. “Yeah. She’s got a long waitlist.” He pauses, then adds, “Worth it, though.”

That means something, coming from him. You don’t know his whole story, but you know enough. Enough to understand that if anyone needs therapy, it’s him. Silence stretches between you for a beat. It’s not exactly uncomfortable, but it’s not easy either.

“Those flowers for her?”

He glances down at the flowers like he just remembered he was holding them. His fingers flex around the stems before he shrugs.

“Nah,” he says. “For someone else.”

You nod, not pushing for more. If he wanted to elaborate, he would. But something about the way his jaw tenses tells you that whoever they’re for, they mean something. Maybe too much.

Silence settles again, but this time, it’s different. Less awkward, more… understanding. Two people waiting for the same therapist, carrying baggage too heavy to unpack in casual conversation.

Bucky shifts in his seat, then glances at you. “She’s good, you know,” he says, almost like an afterthought. “Doc. She doesn’t fix you, but she helps.”

You swallow down something complicated. “Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah.” Then, a small smirk. “But she’s brutal.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “But.. She’ll help right? Because my healthcare can’t take another beating right now.” you laugh awkwardly, mentally cursing yourself for even speaking too much.

Bucky actually huffs out a quiet laugh. Just a breath, really, but it’s something. He tilts his head slightly, considering you for a moment before nodding.

“She’ll help,” he says, like it’s a promise. “But you might leave every session feeling like you went ten rounds with a heavyweight.”

You grimace, sinking further into your seat. “Great. Love that.”

He smirks, but there’s something softer in his expression now. Maybe he sees a little too much of himself in you. Maybe he just knows what it’s like to sit in this exact spot, dreading whatever comes next. For a moment, you forget who he is. Forget the history, the stories, the headlines. He’s just another person waiting for help. Just like you.

“What are you here for?”

You freeze for a second, caught off guard by the question.

It’s not like you don’t know the answer. You do. It’s just.. saying it out loud feels different. Feels real. You glance at him, expecting impatience or regret for even asking, but he just looks at you. Calm, waiting. Like he actually wants to know.

You exhale, shifting in your seat. “I, uh..” You hesitate, then force a small, awkward laugh. “Honestly? I don’t even know how to sum it up.”

Bucky nods, like he gets it. Maybe he does.

You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. “I guess I just feel.. stuck. Like my brain keeps running in circles, and no matter what I do, I can’t get out of my own way.” You glance at him, suddenly self-conscious. “That probably sounds dumb.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Hey, it doesn’t.” He leans back against the couch, staring ahead. “Sounds about right.”

You sit in silence for a moment before you finally ask, “What about you?”

His jaw tenses slightly, his grip on the flowers tightening again. For a second, you think he won’t answer.

Then, quietly, he says, “Trying to make peace with a past that won’t let me go.”

It’s simple. Honest. Heavy.

You don’t push, and he doesn’t say anything more.

But somehow, just sitting there waiting, together, feels like a small step forward.

You exhale, staring ahead. “Well, I hope for a better us. In the future. If that's possible.”

There's silence after that, but it doesn’t feel awkward. It just lingers, settling between you both like a shared thought neither of you knows how to put into words.

Bucky shifts slightly, then leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “It will,” he says eventually. “Just takes time.”

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head. “Time’s kind of a pain in the ass, though.”

That earns a smirk from him. “Yeah. That, it is.”

The receptionist calls a name. Not yours, not his. The waiting continues, but at least now, you’re not doing it alone.

Bucky lets out a quiet scoff, watching as someone disappears into the therapist’s office. “Finally, the line is moving.”

You nod, stretching your legs out slightly. “Guess that means we’re one step closer to getting our brains picked apart.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Yeah. Brace yourself.”

You chuckle, but there’s a nervous edge to it. The thought of actually stepping into that office, of unpacking everything you’ve been carrying, feels heavier now. But at the very least, you’re not the only one feeling it.

After some time, the receptionist finally calls your name.

You exhale sharply, nodding as you stand. Before heading to the office, you turn to Bucky and give him a small smile.

“Hope your girl likes those flowers. They’re beautiful.”

There’s a brief pause, and then because your brain refuses to let you leave without making it worse. You awkwardly add, “Or boy… if you’re into that. Yeah, I’m going.”

Bucky blinks, clearly caught off guard. Then, to your absolute surprise, he actually chuckles, showing his charming smile.

You nod to yourself, as if that somehow saves you from the awkwardness, and turn away. But just as you reach for the doorknob, you hear him say, “They’re for a friend.”

You glance back, and he’s still smirking, shaking his head slightly like he can’t believe you just said that. But there’s something softer in his expression, something almost appreciative.

“Good luck in there,” he adds.

You huff out a breath, gripping the doorknob. “Yeah. You too.”

And with that, you step inside, ready. Sort of.. To face whatever comes next.

a/n: see! cute!

divider from: omi-resources

[sherewrytes]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 1

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Chapter Playlist:

Chapter 1: Rolling Stone

The blaring of the alarm cuts through the dim haze of the bar like a knife. I squint at the glowing screen, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My shift is over, but it feels like the world is just beginning again. The sounds of laughter and clinking glasses fade into the background as I gather my things, the weight of another night spent pouring drinks and avoiding questions heavier than the bottles I’ve been slinging.

What the hell am I doing here?

I didn't need this job—my grandfather left a decent savings, more than enough to keep Choso and Yuuji set for college. But I can't touch it. Not yet. The thought of dipping into that fund makes my stomach twist. It's for them.

It’s always been for them.

So, I picked up this stupid job I hate, slinging drinks for people who don’t care about anything but getting wasted.

“Another night, another dollar,” I mutter to myself, a bitter grin creeping onto my face.

The familiar faces of patrons blur as I head to the door, but the fleeting laughter and boisterous conversations wrap around me, a reminder of the normalcy I’m missing. I should be out there, living it up, but instead, I’m trapped in this monotonous cycle of work and regret.

It’s been eighteen months since Jin died, and three weeks since I lost Grandpa. Shouldn’t I be over this by now?

“Just need to keep my head down,” I say aloud, shaking my head. “Keep the money coming. They depend on you, Sukuna.”

I step outside into the night, the cool air hitting my face like a splash of cold water. The streets are alive with the sounds of nightlife, but they feel like a distant echo, a life I no longer belong to. I light a cigarette, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke fill my lungs, trying to drown out the nagging thoughts in my head.

Y/N…

She’s been my anchor since my world turned upside down. I think about the year we’ve spent together, how she’s become the one bright spot in my otherwise dreary existence. But there’s a heaviness between us that I can’t shake. I haven’t been fully present, and I know it.

“I’m trying, dammit,” I whisper, the words almost lost in the rustle of the wind. “But how do I explain this?”

What if I lose her too?

My thoughts spiral. I’ve built walls so high, convinced that keeping her at a distance will spare her from the wreckage I’ve become. But every time I see her smile, it’s like a reminder of everything I’m not—of the light I can’t give her because I’m too busy drowning in my own sorrow.

You’ve done enough of this pity party, Sukuna. Just let her in. She wants to help. You can’t keep pushing her away.

But it’s easier said than done. Every time I think about opening up, about letting her see the raw mess I am, a voice in the back of my head reminds me of the risk. “What if she can’t handle it?”

What if she leaves?

With a heavy heart, I crush the cigarette butt under my boot and head toward my apartment. I can’t let her see how much I’m struggling. I won’t burden her with my pain. But the truth is, I don’t want to be alone anymore. I’m tired of pretending everything is okay when it’s not. I just want to talk to her, to feel that warmth radiating from her, even if it’s just for a moment.

As I approach my front door, I can see the lights flickering inside. Yuuji and Choso are likely glued to some video game, oblivious to the world outside. I shove the door open, the familiar creak echoing in the silence.

“Hey, I’m back,” I call out, forcing a casualness into my voice I don’t feel.

“Finally! We thought you fell in,” Yuuji replies, his voice full of that youthful energy that’s both infectious and exhausting.

“Yeah, as if. Just needed to pay the bills,” I respond, but my heart isn’t in it. I head to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water, chugging it down like it’s the last drop of sanity I’ll ever have.

I should call her. Just see how she’s doing. She’s been so patient with me, even when I’ve been a complete jerk.

I pull out my phone, the screen lighting up with her contact name. My finger hovers over the call button, hesitation creeping in.

What if she’s busy? What if she thinks I’m pathetic for calling her now?

“Just do it,” I whisper to myself, the words barely escaping my lips. “You can’t keep hiding.”

With a deep breath, I press the button, and the phone rings. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait, hoping she picks up, praying she won’t judge me for the mess I’ve made of everything.

“C’mon, Y/N. Pick up.”

After a few rings, her voice breaks through, warm and inviting. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” I say, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly at the sound of her voice.

“What’s up? Is everything okay?” she asks, concern lacing her tone.

“Yeah, just finished work. Thought I’d check in on you,” I reply, keeping it casual, though the truth feels heavier than I can articulate.

“Just hanging out. You sound tired,” she notes, and I can almost picture the way she frowns when she’s worried.

Always so damn perceptive.

“Yeah, long night,” I admit. “How about you? You doing okay?”

“Better now that you called,” she replies, her words wrapping around me like a warm blanket.

I need this. I need her.

“Maybe I’ll come over. I could use some company,” I say, trying to sound casual even though my heart races at the thought.

“I’d like that. Just… come over when you can,” she responds, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon,” I say, ending the call.

As I toss my phone onto the couch and lean back, I realize how much I’ve needed this connection. For all my reckless decisions and the way I’ve pushed her away, there’s something about her presence that makes the world feel less heavy.

Maybe I can do this. Maybe I can let her in.

I head to the bathroom to shower then to my room to change, scrolling through my phone I scrolled through spotify and played P5hng Me A*wy/Mike Shinoda and Linkin Park. I pulled out an old band tee from Bring me to the horizon and some ripped jeans. In the back of my draw I see some Xanax in a baggie. I pulled it out and popped one then a half I had from sometime before. 

I should really quit this at some point…..but not tonight. 

As I step out from my room into the living room, feeling a renewed sense of clarity, the front door creaks open. Choso strolls in, his expression a mixture of nonchalance and mischief that immediately puts me on high alert.

“Hey, where have you been?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady, but I can’t mask the irritation creeping in. I left him home with Yuuji, expecting a quiet night, and instead, I get this.

Choso shrugs, the dim light from the hallway casting shadows across his face. That’s when I catch a glimpse of something on his arm—ink, the kind that shouldn’t belong to someone barely eighteen.

For fuck’s sake.

I sigh, the tension in my chest tightening as I stride over to him, my heart pounding with frustration and concern. “What is this?” I snatch his arm, pulling it closer to examine the tattoo. It’s a crude design, something that looks like it was done in a rush, the lines jagged and uneven.

“Where have you been?” I demand, my voice low and sharp. “I left you home with Yuuji. Did you really think sneaking out was a good idea?”

Choso tries to pull his arm back, but I hold firm, scanning his face for any sign of remorse. Instead, I find a mix of defiance and pride that only stokes my anger further.

“Dude, it’s just a tattoo,” he says, a hint of rebellion in his tone. “I wanted to do something cool, you know?”

“Cool? You think getting a tattoo looking like you did it in a back alley is cool?” I hiss, my frustration boiling over. “You could’ve gotten yourself hurt or worse! What the hell were you thinking?”

He rolls his eyes, his teenage bravado coming out in full force. “It’s not a big deal, Sukuna. Everyone gets tattoos. I just wanted to be like you. You’re the one with all the ink.”

I let go of his arm, realizing the weight of my own hypocrisy. But I can’t back down now. “You think I’m some role model? I’ve made plenty of mistakes. This isn’t about me; it’s about you making smart choices! You’re not ready for this—”

“What, you mean you think I can’t handle it?” Choso snaps back, his youthful anger flaring. “I’m not a kid anymore. I can do what I want!”

“Yeah, well, you’re still living under my roof, and I’m still responsible for you,” I remind him, my voice strained but firm. “So until you can pay your own bills, I expect you to follow some rules. This isn’t a game, Choso. Tattoos can have consequences you’re not thinking about.”

Choso crosses his arms, his defiance cooling slightly as he looks away. I soften my tone, fighting the urge to explode. “I just… I don’t want you to end up regretting something like this. It’s not as easy to remove as you think. And if Yuuji knew you left the house, he’d freak.”

Choso’s eyes flicker with guilt for just a moment, but he quickly masks it. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to try something different. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

Not a big deal?

I lean against the wall, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “Look, just promise me you’ll think about your choices next time, alright? You’re not just a kid anymore, but you still need to act like one sometimes.”

“Fine. I promise,” he mutters, though I can see the annoyance simmering beneath the surface.

“Good. Now go shower and study and cover that thing up. You don’t need to show that thing off to everyone.” I start to walk back to the couch, but Choso grabs my arm, stopping me.

“Wait.” He looks me in the eye, something earnest in his gaze. “What if you’re not here? What if you get tired of taking care of us and just…leave?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and charged. I open my mouth to reassure him, but the truth is, I’m terrified of what he just said.

What if I do?

“Listen, Choso,” I start, searching for the right words. “I’m not going anywhere. I lost too much already. You and Yuuji are all I have left.”

“Then stop acting like it doesn’t matter,” he shoots back, and I can’t help but feel the sting of his words.

I swallow hard, staring at him, wishing I had the right answers. “I’m trying, okay? Just… let me figure this out.”

He nods, but I can see he’s not fully convinced. “Alright. Just don’t go disappearing on us, okay?”

With that, he heads off toward the bathroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more.

I can’t disappear. I won’t. But what if I keep failing?

With a heavy heart, I plop back down on the couch, staring at my phone. I wonder if I should call Y/N again. Maybe she’d have something to say that would make all of this feel a little less overwhelming.

As I sit there, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not just fighting for myself anymore. I’m fighting for Choso, for Yuuji, and for Y/N. I need to find a way to hold it all together.

Somehow. I have to.

I plop down on the couch, the weight of the evening still heavy on my shoulders. The faint smell of cigarettes and whiskey clings in the air. 

Jesus, it stinks in here

 Just as he begins to find a moment of peace, Yuuji plops down next to him, grinning as he passes over his lighter and a pack of cigarettes.

“Here,” Yuuji says, his voice light, almost playful.

“Stay outta my shit, man,” I grumbles, though I can’t help but feel a hint of amusement at Yuuji’s carefree demeanor.

Yuuji chuckles, unfazed. “Where’s Y/N? I didn’t see her at Grandpa’s funeral.”

The question hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, I feel the ground shift beneath me. I had meant to tell Y/N about  grandfather's passing—she had been there for me through so much—but the weight of it all had left me feeling paralyzed.

It wasn’t important that she was there…

I shifted uncomfortably, feeling the guilt settle like a stone in my chest. “It wasn’t important that she was there,” I muttered, trying to brush it off.

“But isn’t she important to you?” Yuuji presses, his tone shifting to something more serious.

I fell silent, the question echoing in my mind.

Is she?

I reach for a cigarette, pulling it out with slightly trembling hands before lighting it. The flame flickers in the dim light, illuminating my features for a moment as I inhale deeply.

“Dude,” Choso pipes up from the hallway, his voice laced with annoyance. “You said no smoking in the house.”

I rolled his eyes, exhaling a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. “Cut me some slack,” I snapped, though I can’t ignore the tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me that I should be setting a better example.

The deep feeling that I’m forgetting something tugs at me, like a whisper just beyond my mental grasp. But then again, if I forgot it, it probably wasn’t important. Right?

Yuuji is staring at me, a knowing look in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he leans back against the couch, looking comfortable in the silence that stretches between them.

“Things have been rough, huh?” Yuuji finally says, his voice softer now.

“Yeah,” I replied, flicking ash into a nearby tray. “You could say that.”

Choso saunters back into the living room, arms crossed, eyeing Sukuna. “You really should talk to Y/N, you know? She cares about you, and it’s clear you’re going through something.”

I glared at him, irritation flaring. “I don’t need you two playing therapist. I’m handling my shit.”

Choso raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Handling it how? By ignoring everything? By pushing everyone away? Because that’s not working.”

The truth stings, and I shifts in my seat, the tension coiling tighter. “I’m not pushing anyone away,” I shoot back, though I know it sounds hollow.

Yuuji breaks the tension with a laugh. “Yeah, you are. You could at least let her in a little. She might surprise you.”

The idea sits heavy on my chest. 

Could Y/N really surprise him? Could she handle what he’s been dealing with?

What if she can’t?

I take another drag, the nicotine coursing through me like a desperate lifeline. “Whatever, man. Just drop it.”

Choso opens his mouth to argue, but Yuuji nudges him with a chuckle, and they both fall into an easy banter, leaving Sukuna to his own thoughts.

Maybe I should call her...didn’t I call her…can’t fucking remember. 

But the longer I sat there, the more I felt that familiar weight pressing down. The feeling of forgetting something important resurfaces, and I can’t shake it off.

As the night drags on, Sukuna fights the urge to reach for his phone again, knowing that if he does, everything could change. But at the same time, it feels like he’s on the edge of something—something he can’t quite see but knows is there, waiting for him to make the first move.

What the hell am I doing?

I flicks the cigarette butt into the tray, the embers glowing as it lands.

“Hey,” I said, breaking the comfortable silence, my voice rough. “What if I mess everything up? What if I don’t know how to make it right?”

Choso and Yuuji both turn to me, surprised by my admission.

“Then you figure it out,” Yuuji replies, his tone steady. “Just like you’ve always done. Just don’t shut her out.”

Maybe it’s time to stop running and start fighting. For once.

With a deep breath, Sukuna decides it’s time to stop overthinking it. He picks up his phone, staring at the screen, ready to reach out to Y/N.

This is my last chance...but I’m exhausted right now. Fuck!

Yuuji’s POV

Sukuna's exhaustion finally takes over as he sinks deeper into the couch, his body curling into itself. The low hum of the television fills the room, blending with the sound of his steady breathing. He drifts off, lost in the chaos of his mind.

Meanwhile, Yuuji glances at the sleeping figure of his older brother, a frown creeping across his face. Curious and a bit worried, he reaches for Sukuna's phone, its screen illuminated in the dim light. He unlocks it and starts scrolling through the messages, his brow furrowing as he realizes how many texts from Y/N have gone unanswered.

“Dude, look at this,” Yuuji says, wandering over to Choso, who’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a bored expression on his face. Yuuji holds the phone out for Choso to see, displaying the countless messages from Y/N that Sukuna has ignored for the past month.

Choso glances at the screen, then rolls his eyes. “Mind your own business, Yuuji,” he replies, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Seriously, though,” Yuuji presses, a touch of frustration creeping in. “He’s been ignoring her for so long. What’s going on with him?”

Before Choso can respond, Sukuna’s phone starts ringing, the sound piercing through the quiet. Yuuji’s eyes widen, and he instinctively silences the ringer, a mix of concern and curiosity flashing across his face.

“What should we do?” Yuuji asks, looking at Choso for guidance, a bit of desperation in his tone.

Choso shrugs, his expression unreadable. “Mind our own business. It's not our place to interfere.”

Yuuji sighs, glancing back at Sukuna, who remains blissfully unaware of the conversation happening around him. “But I like Y/N. She’s cool and puts up with him,” he points out, gesturing to his older brother, still sleeping on the couch. “She deserves better than this.”

Choso lets out a breath, his frustration shifting to something softer as he considers Yuuji’s words. “Yeah, I get that. But what do you expect us to do? You think we can just barge in and demand he talk to her?”

Yuuji's eyes narrow, determination hardening his features. “Maybe that’s exactly what we should do. He needs a wake-up call. This isn’t just about him anymore. He’s got people who care about him—people who are worried.”

“Like you?” Choso scoffs, but there’s no real bite in his tone. “You think that’s going to make a difference?”

“Maybe,” Yuuji replies, his voice firm. “But if we don’t try, then we’re just letting him push everyone away. We can’t let him go down this path alone.”

Choso hesitates, the weight of Yuuji’s words sinking in. He knows Sukuna is struggling, knows that beneath the bravado lies someone broken and scared.

“Okay, let’s wake him up, then,” Choso finally concedes, pushing himself off the wall. “But if he gets pissed, that’s on you.”

Yuuji nods, determination burning in his eyes. “Yeah, well, it’s better than sitting around doing nothing.”

Together, they approach the couch, the weight of their intentions hanging in the air. Yuuji crouches beside Sukuna, gently shaking his shoulder. “Hey, Sukuna. Wake up, man.”

Sukuna stirs, groaning as he squints against the light. “What the hell?” he mutters, running a hand through his disheveled hair, still half-asleep.

“Time to get up,” Yuuji says, his tone serious now. “We need to talk.”

Sukuna blinks, confusion clouding his eyes as he tries to shake off the remnants of sleep. “Talk about what?” he grumbles, irritation creeping in as he stretches.

“About Y/N,” Choso interjects, crossing his arms again as he leans against the wall.

The mention of her name seems to clear the fog from Sukuna’s mind. “What about her?” he asks, sitting up straighter, instantly alert.

“You’ve been ignoring her, man,” Yuuji says, his voice firm but compassionate. “She deserves better than this.”

Sukuna’s heart sinks, the familiar guilt clawing at his insides. He opens his mouth to protest but finds no words.

“I don’t want to hear excuses,” Yuuji continues, determination etched on his face. “You need to reach out to her. She cares about you, and you’re pushing her away. We can’t just sit here and watch you do this to yourself.”

Sukuna looks between the two of them, the weight of their concern crashing over him.

Maybe I’m not the only one hurting here.

“I… I know,” he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

Choso steps closer, his expression softening. “Then what are you waiting for? Call her. Don’t let this go on any longer.”

Sukuna glances down at his phone, the screen still displaying Y/N’s name. What am I waiting for?

With a deep breath, he picks it up, the decision weighing heavily on his heart. Maybe it’s time to stop hiding and start fighting for the people who matter most.

Sukuna’s POV

I glance down at my phone as it lights up again, Y/N’s name flashing across the screen.

Not again.

I let it ring, barely registering the sound as I mumble to myself, “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

But the ringing doesn’t stop. I grit my teeth, a sense of dread bubbling in my stomach. “For fuck's sake,” I mutter, watching it ring again.

Why can’t she just give me a minute?

When the phone vibrates for the third time, I finally snap. “Fuck!” I answer, irritation spilling over as I press the phone to my ear. “What?”

“Where the hell have you been?” she shouts, her voice cracking like a whip through the line, the frustration palpable.

I wince, already regretting picking up. “I’ve been… busy,” I respond, my tone defensive.

“Busy ignoring me?” She scoffs, and I can practically see her rolling her eyes, her frustration radiating through the call.

This is so typical…

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm brewing inside. “I’m not doing this right now, Y/N. It’s not a good time.”

“Not a good time? You’ve been dodging my calls for weeks! What the hell is going on with you?”

Weeks… The word hits me hard, the weight of it settling heavily on my chest. I can’t keep running from this.

“Look,” I start, my voice low, “my grandfather is dead.”

Silence falls on the other end, thick and suffocating. I can almost hear the gears turning in her head.

“...When’s the funeral?” she finally asks, her tone shifting from anger to concern.

“It was three weeks ago,” I reply, the admission tasting bitter on my tongue.

“Three weeks?” she whispers, disbelief lacing her words. “And you said nothing?”

“I'm handling it, Y/N!” I bite back, the frustration boiling over. I can feel the anger and grief bubbling up, the remnants of my grandfather’s absence clawing at my throat.

I don’t want to talk about this. Not now.

Her silence feels like a dagger, cutting deeper than any argument we've had before. “This isn’t how you handle things, Sukuna,” she finally says, her voice shaking.

“I’m not doing this dumb shit with you tonight,” I snap, the heat of the moment overwhelming me. “I’m hanging up.”

And with that, I cut the line, the sound of the call ending echoing in the stillness of the room.

What the hell was I thinking?

My heart races as I throw my phone onto the couch, the silence that follows feeling deafening. I bury my head in my hands, fighting against the emotions swirling inside me.

She doesn’t understand. She can’t know what this feels like… The anger, the pain, the constant ache of losing my grandfather and not being able to show it. How could I have told her?

I lean back against the couch, the weight of everything pressing down on me.

Just give me time…

But as I sit in the dim light, the loneliness creeps in. The silence is heavy, and I know I can’t keep pushing her away. I want to reach out, but the fear of exposing my vulnerability paralyzes me.

I close my eyes, wishing for the chaos to settle, for a moment of peace to wash over me. But it doesn’t come.

Tomorrow, I’ll talk to her. I’ll figure this out.

But as the minutes stretch on, I realize the truth—if I keep this up, I might lose her for good.

Ding.

I sigh, my heart sinking as I open my eyes, dreading that it’s another text from her. I reach for my phone, bracing myself for the disappointment, but I feel a wave of relief wash over me when I see the name flashing on the screen. It’s not Y/N.

It’s Toji.

I’m five minutes away and I got pizza and weed.

I throw the phone back onto the couch and turn to Yuuji and Choso, who are in the kitchen, their heads craned toward the door, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Zenin is coming over,” I announce, trying to keep my voice steady.

Yuuji shrugs, a nonchalant expression on his face. “And I don’t give a fuck.”

Choso snickers, and I can’t help but wonder,

Who raised this kid?

“Yuuji,” I say, my tone firm, “you’ve got school tomorrow. Head to bed.”

He rolls his eyes, but I can see the weariness creeping in. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

I shift my gaze to Choso, who’s been sitting quietly, but I know he’s been feeling the pressure of finals coming up soon. “You need good grades to get into university, too. Go study or some shit.”

He raises an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I will, but it’s hard to focus with you two around.”

Great, more attitude. “If you can’t handle the distraction, then take your study materials and go somewhere else.”

“Not a chance,” he says, laughing as he grabs a bottle of soda from the fridge. “Besides, I want to see what Zenin brought.”

I shake my head, the corners of my mouth twitching upward despite my efforts to maintain a stern facade. “You two are impossible.”

The door swings open a moment later, and Toji steps inside, a broad grin on his face, pizza boxes stacked high in his arms. “Guess who brought dinner!” he calls out, the aroma wafting through the air and instantly making my stomach growl.

“About damn time!” Yuuji jumps up, rushing over to help him with the boxes, while Choso just stands there, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

I lean back on the couch, watching the chaos unfold. This is a welcome distraction. I can feel the heaviness of the earlier conversation with Y/N slipping away, if only for a moment.

Toji, pulling out a baggie of weed from his pocket and tossing it on the couch next to me. “Let’s get this party started. It’s been a rough week for all of us.”

Yeah, rough doesn’t even begin to cover it.

But I nod, grateful for his presence, even if he’s a walking headache sometimes.

Maybe this is what I need—just a bit of normalcy, a moment to breathe.

I watch as Toji sets down two boxes of pizza on the table, and he turns his gaze to me, studying my face.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks, his tone casual, but I can hear the underlying concern.

I stay silent, reaching for the weed instead, the familiar ritual of rolling a blunt providing a momentary escape. As I begin to roll, I feel Toji’s eyes on me, a bead of sweat forming at the back of my neck.

“What?” I finally snap, my voice edged with irritation.

Toji sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Guess we’re doing this.”

Yuuji, ever the meddler, chimes in with a grin, “Y/N broke up with him.”

I shoot him a glare, my hands stilling. “She didn’t.”

“Sure sounded like you guys were about to,” Choso adds, his voice matter-of-fact, as if I hadn’t just dismissed Yuuji’s comment.

I lean back, rolling my eyes. “So you’re both minding my business now?”

Yuuji shrugs, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. “Of course.” He smacks his lips exaggeratedly, just to piss me off even more.

Toji raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “What happened?”

I take a deep breath, the memory of our earlier fight flooding back, sharp and painful. “We got into it,” I say, my voice low. “She called me out for ignoring her, and I... I told her my grandfather died.”

“To be fair,” Toji interjects, “that’s a pretty big deal.”

“I know!” I shoot back, frustration creeping in. “But it was the way she said it. Like it was my fault I hadn’t told her sooner. I just—”

I stop, running a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of it all settle on my shoulders. “I didn’t want her to worry. I thought I could handle it. But I’m just a mess right now.”

“You can’t just shut her out,” Toji says, his voice steady, and I can tell he’s trying to keep me from spiraling. “You need to let her in. She cares about you.”

“Yeah, but does she really? Because it doesn’t feel like it right now,” I mutter, frustration boiling beneath the surface.

Choso exchanges a glance with Yuuji, and I know they’re thinking the same thing. 

You’re fucking this up, Sukuna.

“Look,” Yuuji says, more serious now, “maybe just talk to her. Apologize or something. She might be pissed off, but she’ll listen. She always does.”

“I don’t know if I can face her after that,” I admit, the confession hanging heavy in the air.

Toji slaps my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts. “You don’t get to hide from this. Just be honest. You’ve got to get your shit together, man.”

I nod, taking a deep breath, the reality of it all sinking in. “Yeah, you’re right.”

The weight of my decisions looms over me, but amidst the chaos and noise of the kitchen, I can feel the glimmer of hope.

Maybe I can fix this… maybe it’s not too late.

I finish rolling the blunt and take a moment, grounding myself. “Alright, enough about me. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

Yuuji and Choso dive into the pizza boxes, their laughter echoing around me. And for a moment, the laughter drowns out the noise in my head, the worries about Y/N fading to the background as I join them.

My phone rings again, cutting through the brief moment of normalcy. I glance at the screen and see it's Y/N. My stomach drops at the sight. I switch the ringer off again, desperate to avoid this conversation.

Toji, however, doesn’t miss a beat. He watches the phone and answers it. “Hey, what’s up, Y/N?”

I can hear her voice through the speaker, sharp and clear. “Where’s Sukuna?”

Toji shrugs, glancing at me. “He’s around. Is there something you need?”

I feel the air shift in the room as Y/N’s voice crackles through the speaker. “Tell him to come get his shit from my place.”

My heart drops.

She isn’t doing this right now.

 The weight of her words hits me like a punch to the gut.

Toji pauses, clearly surprised. “Are you sure about that?”

“His grandfather died,”

 Y/N responds, her tone unyielding. “And?”

And? 

The anger surges through me, hot and raw. I mouth to Toji to pass me the phone, but he shakes his head, his expression saying it all: 

Don’t. Just let it go.

“Y/N, you know it’s not that simple,” Toji says, his voice steady but laced with caution. “He’s going through a lot right now.”

“Yeah, well, so am I,” she snaps back, frustration dripping from her words. “I can’t keep doing this, Toji. He’s been ignoring me, and I’m done. Just tell him to come get his things.”

I can feel my heart racing, the anger boiling beneath the surface.

She really done with me?

Toji glances at me again, gauging my reaction. “Y/N, I get that you’re upset, but maybe you should talk to him instead of kicking him out. You guys have been together for almost a year.”

“Exactly! Almost a year and I feel like I’m in this alone. I’m tired of waiting around for him to decide he wants to talk to me. I deserve better than this.”

Does she really think I don’t care?

“Okay, but…” Toji starts, but Y/N cuts him off.

“No, Toji. I’m not going to keep making excuses for him. He needs to take responsibility. If he doesn’t want to be with me, then that’s his choice.”

I’m clenching my fists now, the frustration spilling over. I can’t just let this happen.

“Just pass me the phone,” I finally say, my voice low and dangerous.

Toji gives me a hard look but eventually relents, handing me the phone with a reluctant sigh. I can feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me.

“Y/N,” I say, trying to keep my tone even, but it cracks slightly, betraying my anger. “You really want to do this right now?”

“What do you want me to say, Sukuna?” she replies, her voice steady yet tinged with hurt. “You’ve been ignoring me for weeks. You think I’m just going to sit here and pretend everything’s okay?”

“I’m not ignoring you!” I shoot back, frustration bubbling over. “I’m dealing with shit, and I thought you’d understand. My grandfather just died, for fuck’s sake!”

“Then talk to me about it!” she retorts, her voice rising. “I can’t help you if you shut me out. I’m not asking for much; I just want to know you’re okay.”

“I’m handling it, Y/N,” I insist, my words coming out sharper than I intended. “But you don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like right now.”

“Then make me understand!” she snaps. “Stop pushing me away!”

I can hear the desperation in her voice, and it’s like a knife twisting in my gut.

“Y/N, I…” I start, but the words fail me.

What do I say?

But before I can finish, she sighs deeply, the sound heavy with resignation. “Just come get your stuff. I can’t keep waiting for you to figure this out.”

“Fine,” I reply, my voice quiet. “I’ll be there.”

She doesn’t respond, and the silence stretches between us like an unbridgeable chasm.

“Y/N…”

But it’s too late. She hangs up, leaving me with nothing but the echo of our argument hanging in the air.

Toji and Choso watch me closely, the weight of their scrutiny pressing down. I want to scream, to lash out, but instead, I drop the phone to my side and run a hand through my hair, feeling the tension coil tighter in my chest.

The weight of the argument hangs in the air, thick and suffocating. With a heavy sigh, I pass my car keys to Choso. “Go pick up my stuff.”

He raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. “Nah, bro. You’re doing that on your own. I’m not getting in that mess.”

I scoff, frustration boiling over. “Seriously? You think I want to deal with this shit alone?”

“Yeah, I do,” Choso replies, crossing his arms defiantly. “I don’t want any part of that drama. You can’t just ignore her for weeks and expect her to roll over when you come crawling back.”

“Whatever, man,” I mutter, pushing myself off the couch. I turn to Toji, who’s watching us with a bemused expression. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving me off. “I’ll keep an eye on these two losers over here.” He messes up Yuuji’s hair, earning a frustrated grunt from the younger guy.

With a heavy heart and a storm brewing in my chest, I head to my car. The engine roars to life, but it does little to drown out the chaos in my mind.

 What the hell am I even going to say to her?

[carrotsworld]

lean on me

eric x reader

in where, throughout your whole life, you try your best to not trouble anyone, but eric shows you it’s okay to do otherwise.

genre: angst, 1.3k words

note: reader is implied of having mental health issues, anxious attachment style and hyper-independency @deoboyznet

“i want to be troubled by you.”

the sky was pouring.

you sat under the bus stop, the shade above you doing little to stop the pelting rain. you wrapped your arms around yourself tightly, trying your best to keep yourself warm as the rain seeped through your clothes to no avail. you had no umbrella as you ran from your office building to the bus stop, the jacket that was supposed to keep you warm now becoming a liability.

it was late. 

you had stayed back to finish up the preparation for tomorrow’s presentation, and you had urged your teammates to leave for home first. “i’ll take care of it,” you had said, when you assured them that it was okay for them to go home.

“don’t worry about me,” you had texted eric this evening when you told him that you were going to stay back for awhile to finish up.

but now, when you sat under the bus stop and the only noise was from the pouring rain and the constant vibrations from your phone from the fifth missed call tonight, you felt so guilty. but you couldn’t bear to pick it up. 

you couldn’t bear to hear the worry in his voice.

because then he would ask you why you never picked up his calls, and you wouldn’t know how to answer. because is “i didn’t want to trouble you” a good enough answer?

after all, what’s wrong with taking the bus in the rain? what’s wrong with getting drenched if you didn’t need to ask for help? 

in the end, you could do it yourself. like always. just a little hardship. just suffer a little. at least it was you.

or maybe, you didn’t want him to see you like this. weak. when your emotions got the better of you. when you are not thinking logically like you always do. when you feel broken. when you don’t feel ’fine’ anymore. like you always was. like you always is. because then you would be a liability. a burden.

and he had already a lot on his plate.

you sighed, pressing the silent button on your phone again as you checked the time. 

what’s thirty more minutes out here in the cold anyways?

you cling to yourself even tighter, rubbing your arms as a futile attempt for warmth. your soaked jacket stuck even closer to you, as if it resented you for not going home. the rain didn’t look like it was going to stop anytime soon, and you tried your best to convince yourself that the chill was bearable.

you’ve had worse.

that was what you always told yourself.

you clenched your teeth as another shiver rattled through you. 

your phone vibrated again. 

eight missed calls.

you bit the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to not press the green button on your screen, to stop the tears from forming.

not now. not when you chose this. 

you blinked when you saw a pair of headlights coming towards you but you told yourself that it was just a coincidence. that the driver wouldn’t stop.

but it did.

the car screeched to a halt right in front of the bus stop and the driver’s door flew open as he ran towards you. through the storm. as if he was rushing to find you.

you stared, wide-eyed, as eric came into view. his hair was drenched, his now soaked hoodie clinging to his frame and his breathing was ragged, as if he had been running instead of driving. his eyes locked onto yours, as if only you existed in his world.

“y/n,” he called out, his voice raw, frantic even. “what are you doing?”

you opened your mouth but closed it again, as every answer you thought of was too small, too selfish.

he kneeled in front of you, his warm hands cupping your cheeks. relief flooded his face as the initial adrenaline of finding you slowly wore off. 

“you weren’t answering,” his voice cracked, and he closed his eyes for a second like it physically hurt him to say it. “i thought something happened. i was going insane.”

you found your voice again. “i’m sorry.” you whispered.

he shook his head. “no. don’t say that. just, why weren’t you picking up your phone?”

you hesitated. then quietly, honestly, you answered. “i didn’t want to trouble you.”

eric stared at you as if the words had physically punched him in the gut. his jaw clenched, a flash of anger, sadness and helplessness all at once.

“y/n,” he breathed. “you could be freezing out here. and you still think that calling me is a burden?”

you looked away, ashamed. “you’ve already so much going on and i thought… it’s just a little rain and i could get home okay.”

“you always think that.” he said bitterly, running a hand through his damp hair. “you always think that you have to go through it alone. handle it alone.”

you didn’t answer. didn’t refute. because you knew he was right. 

“i’m not just here for the good days.” he said, gentler, softer now. “i’m here for all of it. even on the days you don’t feel like yourself. or the nights where you’re soaked to the bone and too scared to ask for help. i will be always here for you.”

he cupped your face again, gently tilting your chin up to look at him. “i want to be troubled by you. whether it’s 3a.m. in the morning, or by you. whether it’s 3 a.m. in the morning, or when you’ve had a long day and just need someone to sit beside you in silence.”

“i didn’t want you to see me like this.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

his thumbs lightly brushed over your cheeks, catching the rain, or maybe your tears. you couldn’t tell anymore.

“i would rather see you a thousand times like this than to never see you at all.”

you looked at him this time. really looked at him.

“i want to be the one you call when things feel too heavy.” he continued. “i want to be the one who shows up. not because i have to, but because i want to. and because i love you.” 

your breath hitched. this boy, who always smiled too easily, who always wore his heart on his sleeve, who never made you feel like you were too much. and he still loved you. even after everything. 

even after all the calls and texts left unanswered. even after all the times you pulled away. even after all the half-truths you told to protect him from your sadness, from the parts of you you couldn’t even bear to face yourself. even after the nights he waited up for a call that never came, or when you told him, “i’m just tired,” when really, actually, you were unraveling inside. 

he still loved you.

he was here. rain-soaked. breathless. staring at you as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world. his world.

he pulled you into his arms, his warm body a stark contrast to yours. “i want everything that comes with loving you. the good days, the bad days, the quiet parts, the stormy nights, the messy, tired pieces you try to hide. all of it.” 

and at the bottom of it all, there was no doubt in his voice. no hesitation. no pause.

you nodded, burying your face into his chest and inhaling his scent. warm, comfortable, safe. 

“let’s go home before you catch a cold, okay?” he asked softly, gently guiding you towards his car. 

the rain hadn’t stopped, but somehow it felt warmer now.

and maybe, that’s when it hit you. that love didn’t come in grand gestures. didn’t need to. sometimes it came packed with being soaking wet at a bus stop at the end of a long day and someone who refused to let you suffer alone in silence.

and that someone was eric. it always was.

[lisdens]

VI & JINX + do-overs

powder 'dies' with vander, jinx 'dies' with warwick. what changes? why must it happen again in order to move on?

from the minute vi and jinx appear on screen, we as the audience are taught that they are doomed to be separated by the circumstances, over and over again.

their fight in episode three of season one seals their fate as doomed siblings, but one thing prevents them from fully moving on from each other and i believe it to be a mix of trauma and lack of space to properly mourn their broken bond.

right after their confrontation, vi is imprisoned for almost a decade and unable to reach her little sister, and jinx falls under silco's wing, fed with lies about vi's intentions, manipulated into believing he's the only person jinx can rely on.

neither of them get the space to mourn what was taken away at such a young age, ergo, they're not ready to let go of each other.

for vi, her role as a protector is never eased off her shoulders, even in prison her only goal is to return to powder, with no other desire for herself. for jinx, her attatchment issues and her need to fill the roles other people have assigned for her to fit in (silco & building weapons, zaun & becoming a symbol) prevents her from letting herself explore who she actually wants to be.

their first encounter back in episode six of season one fail to bring them back together--precisely because their dynamic continues to be the same as when they were kids, not taking into acount how much they have changed since then--but the sisters are given a second chance to try and rebuild their connection, and that is through warwick's arc. jinx says so herself: 'maybe this is like a do-over.'

vi and jinx have been shaped around their worst memory together--the night of vander's death--and it is through that mutual agreement of helping him that they are able to heal that wound.

with isha, jinx learns the weight of one's actions and understands just how much responsibility vi was burdened with when she was only a child herself. isha's death is the key to understand why vi told powder to stay behind during episode three of season one.

in vi's case, i see two things happening: for starters, she gets the space to properly mourn her family. the 'remember me' montage is supposed to show us warwick's healing process, but as the sequence continues, we start seeing more and more of vi, to the point the audience is only witnessing her memories.

the second point is her de-parentification, which also happens to benefit jinx's growth: understanding that jinx is also an adult who has survived without vi's help for a long time, who has accomplished things without her big sister's assistance, releases vi of her burden as the protector.

in return, jinx is no longer a victim of vi's protection, she's no longer expected to behave a certain way. she's finally seen as an equal, not an inferior. vi trusts jinx's judgement, she takes her viewpoints into account ('what do you think?' - 'you actually want my opinion?'). what does this do for jinx? it allows her to stop fearing abandonment over not fitting certain expectations from others.

overall, i believe they manage to heal a small piece of their inner child, which is the one that's been frozen in time since the incident at the cannery. they have a long road ahead of themselves, but now they're ready to face tragedy with the slight difference that no mental burden wil stop them from eventually healing.

they're ready to say goodbye again.

[simpingforbots]

Stargazing 2

Panic settling in to his system, Ironhide had no idea what to do in this situation. He was so desperate to keep this little secret to him self, to keep you out of harms way, only thinking about the human and the annoying agent Galloway that he completely forgot about his teammates, mainly Prime, who was looking down at him with quite the disappointment. His blue opticks shifted just a bit before Prime rubbed his forehead with a groan.

“Ironhide, how long has this been going on?”

“For some time.” Ironhide could not lie to him. At all. “Prime, can we keep this between us?”

“I am sorry, old friend, but I can not do such thing. You know well how Nest will react to the information of civilian finding out about this, especialy after all the effort they put in to keeping it peaceful and without civilians involvement” Prime grumble out, staring at Ironhide, knowing well that Galloway will go on rant “What you did is against agreement we had with human government.”

“I know, I know” Ironhide shook his hands, trying to deescalate the issue to make it seem like it was no big deal “I just had no other choice. They were kidnapped by a decepticon punk and I had to step in to save them. And after this it just got out of hand, I just making sure they won’t tell anyone about it”

“And you taken them to stargaze is one of those method to keep them quite I presume?” Prime cocked his eyebrow with disagreement “Ironhide, you will have to bring them in and inform Galloway about this first thing tomorrow, do you understand?”

“Yes Prime” Ironhide sighed heavily and long, wathign Prime nod and turn around, heading in to his room for the rest of the night, leaving Ironhide alone with his thought. Well there goes the little getaway he had. Grumbling under his “breath” Ironhide headed to his quarters, climbing n his berth to recharge, trying to think of some sort of way to get you out of this mess without your freedome being taken away. You already had enough of troubles on your shoulder, and he really did not wanted this peace to be taken away from him, no matter how selfish it sounded. Then an idea popped in to his mind – Bumblebee is given sort of free range with Sam, right? He is allowed to stay with Witwicky’s residence and they were even given some kind of benefits for staying quite, like this year the boy will be heading in to the “college” a luxury few could afford and because of his “connection” he got in to a good one. Maybe he can try and scratch Galloways ego in to tricking him in to giving the same treatment to you. You could use some new place, especialy if he will be placed as your “guardian”. He just hopped that Galloway is this egotistical as to make him self believe it was his choice. The next morning Ironhide was one of the first one to wake up and using the moment of being the first, and not wanting for Prime to question his action before he can commit them, Ironhide quickly left the base, saying that he was going for a drive and will be back soon. In this situation and for his plan to work, he needs you to be here. Even if you might not want it.

Who ever was ringing your phone like crazy at five in the morning must be crazy, or not have a life at all. Grumbling, you covered your head with pillow, reaching over for your phone and refusing the call over and over, before giving up and answering the phone, bringing the bright screen to your side of the face, mumbling a half asleep “huh?”

“Morning there, sleeping beauty” Ironhide. You hummed in protest, mumbling something out you did not understood your self, but seemed like your alien 22 feet robot understood perfectly fine “Yeah, I know you love your recharge on this days, but its very important that you will be ready when I’ll be there. You thingk you can do this?” you hummed in sleepy agreement, mentally cursing at your self for being such a people pleaser and not knowing how to say no to him. Well you could say no, you just did not wanted to explain t your landlord, again, why the window was broken. “Alright then, I will see you soon” and with that he hung up. Mumbling, you climbed out of your bed and looked aorund for something simple to put on, not wanting to deal with how you will look in such early hour, which ended up being a sweatpants made to look like jeans and a cyan hoody with some word you could not bother to read now. Still asleep, you shovelled towards kitchen, putting on a kettle of water for coffee, not ready to meet the day without some energy. It did not take  to long for the water to boil, pouring yourself a cup of instant coffee, blowing on it to take a sip, scavenging for something to take a bite off, managing to find some rice cakes. Munching on them, you heard a loud beeping, non stop, immideatly followed by angry yelling of someone about them being loud in 5 in the morning, which served as a sign that he was here, quickly finishing your coffee with help of cold water and shoving the cracker in your mouth, you put on pink sneakers and left your apartment. Ironhide seamed more impatient then ever, his door opening quickly and almost with impatient slammed it as soon as you got in, scaring you in to sort of waking up.

“What is going on?” you felt panic building up, the memory of the day you were kidnaped by a decepticon flooding back in to your mind.

“Just... Just have to clear some things up and let’s say we will meat with my team” Ironhide explained as he drove though streets, with you quickly buckling up as he past an intersection, barely missing red light. “Sort of meting and stuff. As well as “legal” things and stuff”

“Ah” you calmed down a bit, though still were worried about such meeting being arranged so suddenly. It did not take to long for you to arrive to a strange base, with soldier looking very confused upon seeing you in self driving car, as if they knew who Ironhide was, letting him pass and drive in to huge hangar, filled with other huge metal robots, all different in form and size, colour and posture, loking a bit shocked at your sight. There was no warning or time to get out as the metal around you creaked, bent and parted, things quickly moving in your vision, blurring in movement and you felt your self move as well, your stomch doing barrel rolls and your coffee dangerously close to being expelled. Thankfully the motion stopped, with you ending up in tight yet gentle grip of Ironhide, showing you off to other bots, who seemed shocked, quickly surrounding him and talking in their language. One with wheels for feet rolled over and reached out to pat your head, his three fingers messing up your bed hair even more, chippering something before Ironhide pulled yo away, huffing with what yo can think was a possessive jealousy. You were finally let down, though still surrounded by bots, the yellow one looked very displeased, with two smaller bots, green and orange, who looked like typical red necks,  were quite fascinated with you, shoving each other and dangerously close. You panicked and quickly ran behind Ironhide foot, who shifted a bit, moving it slightly all while other bott seamed to coo at such “cute” reaction. Though Ironhide then gently nudged you forward to them, saying something about how he will be back, leaving you in the mercy of new bots. You slowly raised your hand, waving a shy hello to new bots.

Knowing that you will be okay, Ironhide went looking for “human weasel”, walking around the base trying to find him before Prime could get a word of your sudden arrival. It did not take to long though as he quckly caught Galloways scent and it lead him to the main hangar, where thin man in suite and glasses was giving Lenox a new one about some mission, rumbling about property damadge and other stuff. It was stupid that they were still stuck with this idiot, especialy after the whole “fallen” and now the whole world knowing about them, even helping to deal with human “politics” and other scrap. Walking up, he waited for Lenox to storm away after Galloway was done, taking a step back to give his “co-worker” some space, getting him self ready to speak with natinal security adviser as well.

“What do YOU want” the disgust was clear in adviser’s voice, dripping like venom towards him. It was no secret that he did not like him and his kind, nor did Ironhide, but swallowing his pride, weapon specialist spoke up.

Twins seemed to be quite a lively bunch, to lively for your own safety though as they started fighting over something that you did not quite catch, decking each other in face and throwing each other around. You screamed, trying to get out of the path of their destruction, with the robot on wheels grabing you and lifting out of harms way as the spot you were got crushed under two bots, decking it out right there and right here, exchanging one punch after another, all while yelling something at each other and being yelled at by other bots. It seamed like the yellow one, who from what you can sort of realise was their only medick, Ratchet, had enough, grabbing them by their neck and tossing out of the hangar, with their metal bodies hitting the pavement yet they still continued fighting. You let a sigh of relief while still in hands of new grey bot, asking to be let down, but it seamed the new bot had other ideas, changing the grip and you find your self hanging down by your leg, dangling above ground while he continued examining you. From this position you heard another footstep and seemed every one chose to behave and you were let go. As the foot step grew louder and closer, you though your head up and froze with wide eyes, staring at the biggest robobt you’ve seen so far, red and blue, staring down at you with what you could only assume was confusion before looking at the others for explanation. You could only guess what summoned him so suddenly here. He seamed no to pleased though with your sudden appearance, looking aorund for the only bot missing here.

“Where is Ironhide” knowing well who this human might be, Optimus wanted to hear it from the bot him self, looking around the hangar, a bit surprised that you were easily handed to other.

“He said something about talking with Galloway, Prime” Ratchet answered, moving closer and looking down at you, who seemed to sink in them self. “I did not expected him to bring civilian here at all. Any ideas why?”

“Let just say we will learn soon” Optimus replied and it did not take to long for a voice to come though, asking for Prime and a “visitor” to meet at the main hangar for a talk with Agent about the mess Ironhide had created. Letting a heavy sigh, Prime reached down, scooping you up and walking out, leaving other autobots to figure things out. You hang on to dear life, clinging to flat digits, letting some panic whimpers while being carried in to main hangar, joining along for a surprise ride in hands of leaders of autobots, who seamed not to shocked about your existence and being here. you were relieved to see Ironhide in the same hangar you’ve been carried in to, but your relief quickly dwindling when you were placed on the platform next to a strange man, who was not to happy to see you, asking for other men to take you away. With Ironhide grumbling something about you being take away, you were lead down the platform in to other room, scared, confused and wondering just what this day will bring now.

[heavenescent]

⋆˚꩜｡ june: monthly goals & how to achieve them

summer is officially here. there's no more time anticipating the deadline of bikini/glow-up season, and it came a lot faster than you thought. personally, i just finished my first year of uni and it went by quicker than i would've ever expected! i took a week to relax, but now it's time to pick myself back up. here's my top 3 monthly goals for june & some tips:

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GOAL ONE: get back to the gym!

.ᐣ - what does this mean for me?

i've been recovering from some pretty bad hip, back, and knee injuries from a car crash a little over a year ago, but i'm cleared now to go back to the gym! my body is the weakest it's ever been right now, so i've been getting back into being active by taking outdoor walks, not too difficult hikes, and gentle bodyweight exercises when i have the time. even at the gym, i take things easy by going on the elliptical (mainly to alleviate pressure on my knee) and stick to cardio. once i get my new car in a week, i'm excited to have the freedom to go to the gym again! i'lll be sure to blog about my fitness journey too!

.ᐣ - what does this mean for you?

being disciplined does not mean that you need to be depriving yourself of care. it's so easy to get sucked into toxic motivation and put your all at first, and then lose momentum because you wasted all your energy in the first couple weeks, or even days. i know the advice "be realistic with your goals" is pretty overused, so i like to say, "be firm, but be kind." if your body can't take it, there is no shame in taking a step back. don't be ashamed to let yourself rest, especially when getting started, or starting again. routines should be built to last, and you should not feel like death when you have to stick to them. understand that struggling with change is one thing, but struggling to live in that change is another.

if you feel awful about missing out on getting the summer body for this season, don't fret. even if there isn't realistically enough time to reach your goals, getting started now will feel infinitely better than continuing to push it off. aim to get those 10k steps a day to the best of your efforts. exercising isn't just something that keeps you fit physically, but it truly keeps you fit mentally as well. if you've got a case of summertime sadness, try listening to music or an audiobook on a calm walk. if you can't walk outside or on a machine, just keep yourself on your feet or moving your hands. learning a skill is a great way to stay active, both with your body and your mind.

i'll hopefully be making a complete beginner's guide to the gym soon, because it truly is the best once you get over that initial anxiety. i'll also make a guide to exercising at home in various settings, either living with parents, in an apartment, or with other roommates.

GOAL TWO: cut down on mindless screen time!

.ᐣ - what does this mean for me?

i won't lie... i think i'm one of the worst people i know in regards to screen time and phone usage. and i am ASHAMED of that fact. i used to think phone addiction would never affect me, but i spend nearly every free moment i have on a screen, mindlessly scrolling or consuming brainless, meaningless content. when unpacking the things i brought home from my dorm, i noticed i had a serious problem when instead of putting on music like i would normally do, i struggled to find an enticing enough youtube video to put on in the background. i was subconsciously afraid of being left alone with my own thoughts; i needed something in the background to narrate a controlled train of thought for me on a predetermined topic. in short, not good. for this month, i want to be more mindful of the time i spend online. i started this blog primarily to deal with this issue, and to keep myself accountable by having a place to track my habits. i also just really enjoy journaling and writing, and having a blog is already so therapeutic. instead of doomscrolling, i'll find physical media to interact with, or find knowledge on attaining my aspirations.

.ᐣ - what does this mean for me?

everyone seems to be so attached to their phones, but the way you use your social media is different. you aren't just doomscrolling with no purpose, you're finding tips on improving yourself, or inspiration on new ways to upgrade your personal style. all of this is fine, but the key word in this monthly goal is mindless. if anything, the goal should read: be more mindful about your screen time. be aware that even consuming positive content, such as scrolling through #self improvement can still reach a point of overconsumption. so then, what does it mean to be mindful? well, i think it's a little different for everyone, as most things are.

on one hand of the extreme, no one should ever be spending more than 12 hours a day on social media. on the other hand, i understand why some people can't justify spending less than an hour being on their phone. lifestyles are just too different to be offered a one-size-fits-all solution. so, instead of giving my own unjustified advice, i'd like to recommend a book i read recently:

Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy Digital World by Cal Newport

to be blunt: this book was incredibly eye-opening, and provides so much more context and solutions to achieving a healthy, balanced relationship and life with your electronics than i can try to muster in one tumblr post. i really cannot recommend this book enough, especially for those of you angels that want to live more presently, without the shackles of algorithms fighting to keep your attention.

GOAL THREE: get closer to finding the real you!

.ᐣ - what does this mean for me?

this is the most abstract goal on this list, and quite fitting for the last of the three main goals of the month. in a world with so much emphasis on finding what makes you individually unique, yet also finding the group or label that fits with that individuality, i have struggled to find something that is truly, authentically myself. over the years, i've come to accept that all the past, present, and future versions of myself (or who i think myself to be) are all me. but even with this in mind, i can't help but feel something nagging deep inside my soul that knows i'm not being authentically true to myself. outside of all the trends and niches, who am i? another reason why i started this blog is to really explore the intricacies of my entire personality, both what i appreciate about myself and what i need to work on improving. i hope that being consistent in my blogging, reflecting, and interacting with others helps me see my genuine interests and characteristics in a relatively anonymous space. please perceive me!

.ᐣ what does this mean for you?

i don't feel all that qualified in giving real advice for this, since it is genuinely just the blind leading the blind here, but i will leave some questions/advice that have helped me be more introspective:

if you were to die tomorrow, what would you be most proud of? you can't be negative or self-deprecating, be genuine. what good have you left in the world? amongst your family and friends, who would remember the impact you have left, and what would they say about it? i promise that even if you think there's absolutely nothing, there is something. think hard, and be kind to yourself.

describe yourself in 3 words, now describe the 3 defining characteristics of what you aspire to be like. how much of an overlap is there? how do your current defining characteristics connect with your desired characteristics? make note of how similar or different they are, and regardless of which it is, find the similarities in them anyways.

look through some pictures of yourself throughout the years. what are the common themes between your past and current aesthetics? even if they seem like they couldn't be any more different, find at least one similarity. the similarity could very well just be that they're popular or trendy at the time. take note of these similarities, and reflect on what this means you're drawn to.

i know these questions all seem pretty different and quite random, but really reflect on all your answers. and i mean reflect. write it down on paper, think it through, jot down all the thoughts as you ponder over each answer. thinking it inside your brain and getting it all down on paper are completely different, and being able to visually see what troubles you grounds you enough to think everything through more. thoughts can very easily get muddled and jumbled up in your head. get them out and reflect on them for the month. no matter what conclusions you come to, use them for good.

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i'll be sure to figure out a way to improve this really blocky formatting, but thank you for reading! i wish you all the best of luck!

love, kate

[thatneoncrisis]

sometimes i think about jinx and like. idk theres something about her that irks me thats seperate from her as a character its like. the language the show and fans use to discuss the kind of person she is in relation to what she was like as a child.

at times it feels borderline ridiculous how much powder is put on a pedastal. im not saying shes secretly evil or bad or whatever that's fucking stupid but like. shes the kind of good you can only be when you are a child that young. and the need for the story to posit that as like, the best of jinx, a naive child with documented extreme emotional regulation issues is bizarre

i got this short recommended to me with the boards from season two of isha stopping violet from killing jinx in that sewer fight. and someone in the comments was like oh they should have kept that shot of jinx crying, bc it shows she still has POWDERS innocence. its shit like that that makes my skin crawl. its like the kind of thing your emotionally dense family says to you, oh why arent you happy like you were when you were six years old? now youre hateful and rude? why dont you like the same things as you did when you were in goddamn elementary school

the way i initially thought of it was along the lines of: powder isnt Better than jinx- theyre the same person! powder did everything jinx did, she changed. theres no like, stagnant pure untouched baby heart wrapped up in the skin of a killer she just. grew up. made shitty choices.

then i sat on it. identity is a powerful conplex thing. gonna pull out the most basic ass example here- bruce wayne and batman. theres this scene in batman beyond. if you dont wanna click the link the long and short is that batman is talking to his protégé and states that he knew the voice in his head telling what to do during that episode wasnt a form of psychosis because the voice was calling him bruce. "thats not what i call myself," he says. batman is fully integrated into his identity. he is batman before hes bruce. if anything, the billionaire playboy thing is more of a costume than him literally dressing up as a menecing bat themed superhero. he identifies with fear and vengence and justice more than his birthright

with all of that i accept jinx having this sort of mentality about herself. a before and after. there was powder then there was jinx. i accept the people in the show talking about her like this- especially violet. i honestly found her refusal to engage with jinx as her own person and constantly trying to appeal to "powder" interesting and kind of pathetic (IN A GOOD WAY THIS WAS A GOOD CHOICE). it makes things simpler when you actually have to deal with the damage shes caused. you arent killing your sister- jinx already did that. powder is already dead, this is just a loose end. i also think this makes One thing about the season 2 scene where they find their father again touching. violet acknowledges that vander was jinxs dad too. it was both of their losses from a horrible accident. there are other bits about that exchange i dont like but this isnt about that

what gets me is like. the very mechanics of the show and the fandom as a whole just sort of accepting this idea of jinx/powder in its most simplistic form. yes powder is the Good Baby and jinx is the Evil Murderer. all good things jinx does is actually her becoming powder again and all bad things powder did was foreshadowing jinx. it scrubs the line between maladaptive copong mechanism and just. a really dull way of thinking about her

i think its very. very sad. that we go through ekko interacting with an alt world jinx/powder, one seemingly more well adjusted but has still suffered a heavy loss. but shes had kinder people in her life to help her bear that weight. and then when we see him confronted with his own jinx, at the end of her rope, actively committed to blowing it all up and erasing herself from the picture. we dont get to see any of it. he finds the middle ground Off Screen. we see her and shes just decided dying for real is dumb or maybe shell just let herself die during the battle, she has the new haircut and hoodie and.

it just kind of says nothing we dont know what changed her mind we dont know! ive sewn people say that ekko brought up the alt world jinx as a sign of her being capable of good but 1. we already got a whole season of that with her and the baby, and if you bring up that she feels guilty about that bc isha was killed, i will mention that alt world powder was ALSO wracked with guilt bc SHE was the one messing with the little magic crystals and got violet blown up. these are comparable situations and neither of them really end with her feeling good about herself

maybe its about perseverance. maybe its him saying hey i saw you go through something awful in another life and you lived. you got better and you had people who loved you and i love you and. fill in the rest of the speech. maybe thats it. maybe the middle point of powder and jinx issssss. resilience. maybe the show is just kind of ambiguously having her deal with severe dissociation. maybe everyone has a good baby and an evil monster in their brain at a control panel fighting at all times for dominance. maybe there can be inherent good qualities to jinx that has nothing to do with peoples foggy recollection of her at 9 years old

[xanderisbraindead]

Im gonna try to switch to a flip phone

Ive wanted to do this, or at least unplug a little from my smart phone for a while, but I always cave and reinstall my apps and start using my phone again. My screen time was 10 hours a day average last week and that is absolutely embarrassing to me. To keep myself accountable, I'm gonna list my reasons why I wanna do this.

Mental health: High smartphone usage is being linked to higher rates of mental health especially among teens. Social media and the constant bombardment of information is very stimulating on the mind and thats turning out to not be very good for you.

Attention Span: My attention span is kinda dogshit... I catch myself opening my phone to scroll social media while my sims game is loading WHILE I'm watching youtube...

Dumb shit: I see a lot of dumb shit (mainly on twt and insta) and it makes me so angry but then I catch myself wanting more and more of that. I know I have anger issues and for myself, I shouldn't be purposefully doing that. Internet discourse takes up too much of my brain space to where I'll talk about it in real life...

General dependence: It's just a piece of metal, why does it feel like a limb I need to have on me at all times? I don't need to fall asleep and wake up with this thing in my hands.

Oversharing: I overshare a lot to the point I get embarassed about it. It's a little harder to do this when you're using your computer because you have to be intentional about your internet use. You have to sit down and some features are limited on web (ie insta stories) so you can't just say anything.

I want to appreciate other things: As I said, I spend an average of 10 hours a day on my phone and I feel like I'm wasting my time. I don't feel like im doing enough in my days because most of it is going into staring into a screen. I want to read more and remember to flip my compost and do more things in a day than sit hunched into a screen.

Physical health: I have bad eyesight and a bad back. Staring into a screen is not helping either of those.

Compulsive shopping: I have got some cool stuff, but again, I want to be more intentional in my actions, including shopping. I've found myself spending money a little too loosely lately, and I'd like to think my purchases through more.

There's probably more, but thats all I can think of right now. I'm gonna make a big shift tonight and sleep without my phone in my bed. That sounds silly to make a big deal of, but ive done it for maybe 4 years now, even when I was on vacation last month.

So yeah, thats my new adventure: Beating the addiction to my phone.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Whumpee (Nico) Drugged for His Own Good part 8

Warnings: post-tortured, severe paranoia issues, perceived betrayal by friends

Nico's fingers were trembling as he scrolled to the top of the texts, reading them one by one. The top one arrived yesterday, the day of his escape.

Medic: u got our boy?

Amelia: yeah. I'll keep him safe and recovering. He just needs a break from you guys. He took your betrayals pretty hard. Was there really no other way you could have gone about getting him that surgery?

Marcus: I feel terrible about it, but he was refusing to let us help him. The shrapnel could have killed him if we didn't get it out.

Medic: as a professional surgeon, I must agree. His situation was dire. He was letting past trauma get the best of him which is why he didn't want us to knock him out to take care of the shrapnel. We had to intervene bc it was clear he wasn't capable of making reasonable choices on his own.

Amelia: drugging his drink was still a jerk move tho. He's absolutely terrified of everything, really shaken up now. He's having a hard time even trusting ME, and I wasn't even involved in your awful shenanigans.

Marcus: at least he was willing to let YOU help him. He choked me out shortly after he woke up the first time after surgery.

Medic: and shot me in the leg during his little escape rampage. Ouch.

Amelia: can you blame him tho? You drugged him and forced him into a surgery he didn't want. You completely broke his trust. I'd be scared of you guys too.

Marcus: we know. That's why we sent u in to try and get through to him instead. U can take care of him better than we can right now. We believe in you girl!

Amelia: ugh. I'm always cleaning up your guys' messes. I better get some serious brownie points after this.

Nico's breaths were shallow and tight in his chest as he scrolled down further, to the texts that came in today.

Dang it. Amelia HAD taken the opportunity of his distraction to message his ex-friends. Curse it all!

Marcus: status update?

Amelia: he's doing a little better today -- but he's not all there mentally. He made me throw out a whole breakfast so he could personally supervise me remaking it to make sure it wasn't drugged. U guys really messed him up inside.

Medic: what took you so long to reply? You're not usually this slow??

Amelia: Nico again. He literally confiscated my phone bc he didn't want to risk me texting u all.

Medic: dang. That bad, eh?

Marcus: yikes.

Amelia: yikes is right.

Marcus: when do you think he'll be okay coming back here? I need to apologize for what happened -- u were right, I should have tried harder to find a different way to help than outright drugging him.

Amelia: dunno. But don't get your hopes up on it being anytime soon.

Medic: don't forget to change Nico's wound dressings at least twice a day. Just a quick reminder.

Amelia: I know what I'm doing. Don't worry.

Medic: sorry for pestering -- we're just worried about him back here at the facility.

Amelia: I think he's almost done with breakfast, so I've gtg now. Not sure when I'll be able to message again. He's guarding my phone like a dang Doberman.

Marcus: 😅

Medic: 🤔

Marcus: Thanks for the info.

Nico turned the phone off, his own shocked reflection staring back at him on the black screen. His skin was pale and clammy with fear.

It all made sense now -- why no one had tried to stop him or Amelia when she helped him out of the facility to escape. It was because his team had let her take him away. Every second of his escape had been carefully orchestrated and planned.

Because his team knew he would take Amelia's offer of assistance, even when he was scared and injured and distrusting. Knew he wouldn't accept it from anyone else. Even now they were meddling in his business, waiting like vultures for when he'd be healed up enough to return back to the facility. Maybe they'd even have the audacity to request he resume his role as leader again.

His team members had decided to let him heal up elsewhere since he'd been too freaked out to let any of them near him. They thought they were doing what was best for Nico's recovery, allowing him some relief and distance from them all.

Nico's blood boiled with anger and fear. His friends had all turned against him. Even Amelia, who he'd foolishly had a tiny sliver of hope would be the lesser evil out of his whole team.

He was wrong. So terribly wrong. She was as bad as the others were. Pretending to be so caring while working behind his back like this.

Masterlist

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @written-in-the-stars135 @neverthelass

@starz8nk @redwinesupanover @whumpisgoodwhumpislife @theforeverdyingperson

@f1sh-bone @whumped4whumplover @theasexualwriterrat @whatwhump

[gwenniesqueals]

The Next Prince Episode 9 Live reactions *spoiler alert*

Warning again there will be spoilers, especially at the end where I will seemingly go off the deep end.

I do not want to hate Prince Wasin...Please don't make him a villain...please

Imprisoned?? Damn that's intense

Wasin taking the blame? Way to change the subject

The gift is pretty though

Fuck you King Kandy. Don't threaten people for doing their jobs

Why are they all brushing it off like it doesn't affect Khanin?

Charan. What.

Hurt baby boy

Charan and his dramatics, just say what you mean and quit pussyfooting

Chakri trying to protect Babyboy too

Khanin gonna get angry aren't they

Charan digging into EVERYTHING GD

I'm going to fight this old man

I mean eventually y'all's actions will become his issue down the line, let him worry about it.

Yeah Calvin, Remember him? Keeps disappearing all the time?

Poor Jay

That's one hell of a promise there Calvin

Not Sore anymore?

Was this man a stormtrooper in a past life? Like I don't want anyone to get hurt but you've nearly run out of bullets will all those misses.

They just witnessed someone getting shot at close range and they are just curled into each other the best they publicly can

THE KING??????

The prince just trying for peace and the king just wants to sit and play chess. *eyeroll*

Don't think I didn't notice what pieces were being moved, cause I did.

Ramil...so much more worried about catching the guys because of Paytai not his own life on the line. Mans wants revenge

Kanin is NOT happy

Oh fuck!

Charan gonna go to the ends of the earth for his baby boy

The teasing ❤️ and his dad is just giggling

DADDIO!!!!!!!!!!

Vedish you are a hero ❤️

*Warning now, this is where I go off the deep end*

*Last warning*

You've now been warned:

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY TEASED, IN THE EPISODE TRAILER, GUARD DADDIO COMING BACK AND BEING ALIVE ONLY FOR HIM TO BE ON SCREEN FOR LESS THAN TWO MINUTES. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S ON THE RUN FROM THE KINGS PEOPLE. I THREW MY NOTEBOOK AT MY COMPUTER SCREEN I WAS SO UPSET. I WAS HAVING A WHOLE MENTAL BREAKDOWN OVER THEM TEASING THIS COME BACK FOR IT ONLY TO LAST TWO MINUTES. AND WHO WAS THE TEXT FROM????? HMMMMM??? I NEED ANSWERS AND I NEED TISSUES BECAUSE I AM SO UPSET AT HOW PLAYED I JUST WAS. I CANNOT AND WILL NOT BE WATCHING THE SNEAK PEAK FOR THE NEXT EPISODE NOW, I DON'T NEED TO GET WORSE!

[moldybonessmell]

MCU and TFATWS

Kinda Thunderbolts spoilers

Alright, in this post (READ IT OR YOU WON'T UNDERSTAND MY RANTING) I complained about people not wanting characters to make mistakes and taking everything they see on screen to face value.

Now I rewatched Captain America The Winter Soldier and realised why people were talking how out of character Sam's behaviour towards John in TFATWS was.

Sam found his purpose in helping vets, and he lost his own friend (also why the fuck we haven't heard anything about Riley in any other movies or TFATWS???) JUST LIKE JOHN JUST DID and he didn't even try to help because John ruined the image of righteous Captain America (and Steve's legacy).

And after refreshing my mcu lore knowledge I firstly wanted to be like 'okay my bad yall were right this was a weird writing decision'. But..

.. I still think I would defend Sam on this one.

Yes, I doubled down. Sue me.

Sorry SORRY I still want to think he had his own issues to deal with and no way he would actually jump to console a guy who's obviously enraged.

Back in CATWS Sam himself said about brainwashed Bucky "People like him can only be stopped and not saved" and I bet he had a deja vu seeing Walker like this in the scene after he killed a guy. Eventually Sam saw Steve defend Bucky and Bucky redeeming himself and they even became friends and helped each other.

Sam was literally wrong once and he did same mistake again.

(because we know from Thunderbolts John's redeeming himself eventually).

So for this writing decision in TFATWS to make sense, in a new Avengers movie I want to see Sam realising his misjudgment. Because Bucky did. Bucky saw John actually fighting for good and not just being a soldier (that's what John been lacking in his personality in TFATWS). And moreover, Bucky's been working with Walker for 14 months straight too. So he might be the one to show Sam that they did a mistake.

Edit: just to clarify, I think making mistakes is not a negative trait and I actually like it a lot because it adds growth to a character. In this blog I'm number 1 (one) Sam's defender and don't think he needs to apologise to Walker (because John did in fact messed up big time), just anknowledge and kinda like nod lol because people do get better, just like Bucky did. I just love (no) how there are only two sides of this fandom: people who think Sam is horrible and should apologize to Walker and people who think John is a piece of shit who deserves nothing. Can y'all people find anything in between? Like John messing up because he wanted to do better and Sam who should have helped but had his reasons not to. Every day my post about lack of media literacy just proves itself.

Yeah, maybe I'm giving mcu writers way too much credit (most likely) and we are not gonna get any consolation for these characters and it was indeed just 'protagonist is always right' mentality but I can live in my bubble for now, okay?

Bonus:

Me @ Sam Wilson

[giga-queen]

What if Vee short-circuited during a show or something and all you heard was Vee's static and Connie like trying to fix her

I wonder if this would be a rare occurrence or one that Connie would know how to handle

Assuming this is about tower of souls and not canon dandys world since youre talking about vee and connie together GDBKFBG

I think vee would be a more sensitive than the rest of the toons, but really she doesnt have that much more of a chance of malfunctioning than connie does. i dont have the logic all worked out but since the toons are all made of ichor they dont use electricity so they cant have any power-related malfunctions. HOWEVER the ichor is controlling their endoskeletons and hydraulics and such so if theres an issue with their inner workings they can still have some issues, which is also a big reason why dandy was so excited to tell the toons they wouldnt malfunction anymore after getting ichor-ified :P Thats sprout and cosmos job to fix the toons when their bodies are all fucked up (delilah and arthur are there to handle more extreme repairs that would be too agonizing or require excessive work and detail)

but. hmmm. vee.

I think it might be interesting if at least her head was electrically powered. so like. Her body could still move but if the power in her head goes out she could lose all of her senses and speech until she gets her battery charged or replaced,,, which is kind of a funny mental image imagine her going to sleep and connie has to lay in bed with that long fuckin wheel (honestly she might just sleep standing up like a horse) while vee takes out the batteries in her head and places them off to the side before she lays down to sleep GHAHAHA

that also raises the question of what her screen would be like once she gets ichor-ified. Does girlie get an actual face since ichor cant simulate a screen holy shit

But like. i have been thinking for quite a while about how vee would work exactly in this au and i think that might be what ill go with :] her head still has some ichor in it but the ichor cant simulate an actual tv and project images onto her screen which is why they kept her head electronic.

anyways to answer your question! After talking out loud to myself in this post for like 10 minutes i think if vee's head were to malfunction theyd probably do the same thing as they do with any toon malfunction - they pause the class and escort the guests out and promise them a rescheduling or a refund. if its something as simple as changing the battery connie can probably do that herself but if its something more intense they might pause cosmo and sprouts class too and have them deal with it (though it may make more sense to have the founders do it so their class doenst get cancelled too ... idk :P). It would probably hurt vee to start glitching out so i can imagine if its something like that connie would take her battery out and if that doesnt fix the problem immediately when she puts it back in she'd help guide vee to sprout n cosmos floor since shes blind and deaf in that state. either way though again i think vee is just a little bit more sensitive than the other toons, she doesnt malfunction or glitch very often :]

ouhg i need to think about this more actually now im thinking about vee and connie. Thank you for inspiring me anon 🙏🙏

[wenellyb]

Re: Buck getting angry with Tommy.

As much as I agree with you that Buck should get to be angry with Tommy, I don’t really think it’d be in character for him for longer than one explosive shout or rant, and even that would need quite some build-up. Something to keep in mind here is that Tevan are insecure4insecure and abandonment issues4abandonment issues, with the added bonus of Tommy being a runner and Buck a clinger.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that Buck is so terrified of driving people away that he defaults to taking the blame in most conflicts even if it isn't, or if it is only marginally. The biggest example of this is probably in S5, where sure, he messed up by not telling Chim about Jee-Yun almost drowning and that Maddie is safe, but Chimney punching him was easily the bigger transgression (Chim’s poor mental state at the time notwithstanding). Despite that, Buck basically took all the blame for the situation, though Chim did apologize (albeit off-screen) after coming back to LA.

It’s why Buck breaking up with Taylor, imo, was quite significant. He realized that as much as he’s scared of being alone, it’s still better than being with someone who breaks his trust. And even then, he wasn't really angry with her, just disappointed.

I think it makes sense from a character perspective that he’s not angry with Tommy, as much as he’d have the right to. Because of that, I feel like the more logical resolution, again from a character perspective, would be for Tommy to make the first step, admit his fault and ask for forgiveness before resolutely, confidently asking to try again, no “not as much.”

I don’t think we’ll get that, because the Buckley sibling “I love you” scene in 8x16 was loud, to say the least lmao, but I feel like it would be the best option.

Anyway, I hope my ramblings make at least some lick of sense and I didnt bother you or anything 😅

Hiiii!!! You could never brother me, I loooove these discussions😉

You're absolutely right, Buck is so afraid of driving people off that he's willing to take the blame, but for once I would like him to disagree with Tommy and tell him: "you don't know my feelings better than I do, I won't hurt you."

I'm not sure will get that either, but the resolution you described would be the perfect reunion imo, with Tommy making the first step and definitely no "not so much".

Thank so much you for sending me this and it made perfect sense don't worry!

[misterbenzadrine]

♡ day 2: eli "hawk" moskowitz ♡

MY SHAYLAAAAAA I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

okay so like many other fans, i recognized jacob from his disney/nick days (namely icarly, marvin marvin, jinxed and, obviously, kirby buckets) so i knew his name but i was also still a kid so every time he came on screen, he was only kirby buckets. ("aww they're all bullying kirby buckets" "no way they put kirby buckets in a mohawk" "dude he totally kicked kirby buckets into that trophy case") JUST THE FIRST TWO SEASONS I PROMISE, it's kinda funny in retrospect lmao

(side note: i also recognized mary, xolo, and peyton so it was really funny to put their ck storylines in their previous projects' context. "woah emma/savannah from frenemies just kissed victor from parenthood ! but so did emma from jessie and now she's beating up emma/savannah ?? OMG VICTOR JUST FELL OFF THE BALCONY")

so anyways since i recognized him, he was one of the only three characters i took notice of (the other two being johnny and miguel obvi) and he always has been one of the most interesting characters of the show. ik i sound like a broken record at this point but HE MAKES THE SHOW WHAT IT IS.

he's very pushed back toward the end of the series (namely s5 and 6). but he plays a big role in the story in general BECAUSE he is the only one that demonstrates the mental effect karate has had on the kids IN A VISIBLE WAY. (eli's hair as a metaphor for his mental state, how i love thee)

so he starts out with almost no lines, he's bullied, and he comes as a duo with demetri, but he's so CUTIE. bro's literally just kind of existing. AND he has short blonde hair, nice slicked to the side, a spiffy little gentleman. i loved his wardrobe too, it wasn't even all one aesthetic like demetri's, it kinda bounces between your grandpa's closet and human bean bag. i love the colors and textures and patterns I LOVE ELI.

while miguel, demetri, and eli are all bullied from the beginning, eli's is worse bc of his lip scar (which i think is incredibly ridiculous but i know kids suck sometimes). and eli is PERFECT to be the middle man between demetri and miguel. while miguel is actively doing something about it (karate) and demetri is actively doing nothing about it (accepting his fate and waiting to graduate), eli is at a standstill. he could stay by demetri's side like he's done for YEARS, practically his whole life, never stand up for himself, duck his head and wait for graduation, or he could try something new and follow in miguel's footsteps. and after the cafeteria fight, miguel's obviously doing SOMETHING right so hook, line, sinker. (also eli applauding miguel after the fight is so cute, i love seeing is sixteen lone pixels in the corner of the screen with his little stoner hoodie) (also demetri's four pixels in the background)

eli's obviously ENRAPTURED by karate and convinces demetri to join, he even sticks with it when demetri quits bc he's REALLY dedicated. he really wants to learn karate, and he really wants to learn from johnny how to get a miguel-type transformation, how to fight, how to gain confidence, how to stop getting bullied, how to be cool. again, we as viewers know that as pure as johnny's intentions may be, his advice is obviously flawed and outdated. but the kids don't know that. so they drink in every word he says bc, to them, he's the coolest adult they've ever met (again, bc this is a show WROUGHT with absentee parents and abandonment issues, these kids put WAY TOO MUCH TRUST IN HIM)

even though he runs off when johnny lays into his lip, he obviously got what he wanted (not in a way he SHOULD have but), johnny tells him (from johnny's obviously brilliant perspective /s) exactly how to stop being that scared little kid in the cafeteria and how to become cool. which is basically that he needs to distract from his lip if he doesn't want people looking at it. (you don't need to bookie, people suck but there's a whole other world out there <3)

so he gets the mohawk. i like seeing fic writers' rationale for why he chose a MOHAWK and not another more trendy hairstyle. and personally i've never been that BIG of a fan of the mohawk, it grows on you over time obviously and it's easy to forget it's there but it feels like such an eyesore sometimes, probably bc i know that's not jacob's preferred hairstyle. but there is one rationale that is SO interesting. i'd love to say the writers knew but i try not to put too much faith in them.

mohawks apparently originated as a native american tradition to symbolize courage. it was a sign of strength. so how FITTING that eli would choose a mohawk to debut his new display of courage. the writers most likely chose it bc of the punk movement, which also works, but either way, i love the idea of eli sitting at home with red puffy eyes just stumbling on this information and deciding to take a risk for ONCE, immediately going to the store and buying out all the hair gel and hair dye and spending the whole night dyeing his hair and figuring out how to style it perfectly. WAIT IM GONNA ADD THIS TO THE HEADCANON LIST THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE THING.

but either way (fuckass traffic cone aside) he gets the mohawk, and he's suddenly really confident, then comes the tattoo, the personality, and the girlfriend (moon you deserve better than to be diminished down to hawk's gf. you need to run free with your crystals and weed without a closeted bisexual manic karate man holding you down.) (moon and ali parallels??)

so hawk getting the makeover is viewer shorthand for johnny's success. not to say it should be diminished down to just johnny's doing. but hawk becoming confident, becoming popular and, in a much starker way than miguel, going from zero to hero in just a few months shows that johnny really is making these kids stronger. his influence is far more powerful than he or daniel could've imagined. and it shows, through the length and the blue and black that contrasts his blonde hair, just how big this influence is on the kids.

his blue era is cute, and the black roots definitely hint toward something darker brewing below the surface. but i truly do love blue-hawk. his bickering with demetri, while NOW we see it as angst, really was just silly bickering. just two vocal personalities colliding but still supporting each other, just separately instead of codependently like they've been their whole lives. (me when they obviously still spent time together and demetri was at every single one of hawk's events after he joined cobra kai) (s1/2 hawkmetri you are so special to me)

him color coordinating his mohawks with his outfits are so important to me, i know that's BECAUSE his hair color and clothes are reflective of his mentality but it's so cute in-universe (the costume/hmu departments knew EXACTLY what they were doing)

HIS RED-HAWK PHASE I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT. so obvi his red hair is reflective of the time when he FULLY embraces cobra kai, from the beginning of s2 to somewhere in s4. but this is ALSO the time he starts styling his hair in chunks rather than the simple spiked gradient he had before. i can't say exactly what this means. maybe it symbolizes a fractured personality? compartmentalizing? maybe that he's taking more risks? maybe just that it looks more dangerous? if anyone would like to answer that, be my guess, it could genuinely be anything.

another thing i noticed but i don't think i can concretely say anything about is the fact that toward the beginning and end of this phase, he wears a lot of black with hints of red (either like the stripes of his sweater during the school fight or just having red in his hair). this might be his inner turmoil? at the beginning, he for sure was highly unstable but it didn't bother him in the same way it was toward the end. then in the larusso house fight, he has the yellow shirt with the red jacket, which is obviously him kind of shedding his snake skin type of thing. AND the red shirt he wears at the beginning of s4 is a very faded red, which is so cute. he's like again growing away from cobra kai's influence. I LOVE COSTUME DEPARTMENTS FOR THIS EXACT REASON. idk again if someone can explain this more that'd be great but it's really cool nonetheless !

so he spends his whole red-hawk phase being a jerk, blah blah blah i could make a whole post on its own for this phase. BUT SOMETHING I WOULD LIKE TO YAP ABOUT THAT DOESN'T REALLY HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING:

i love hawk, i do, this whole post proves i do. and i say this with love. FUCK HAWK FOR THE GOLF N STUFF FIGHT. no he didn't "technically" start it, and demetri haters/hawk dickriders LOVE to bring up s6 to defend him, it's giving this tweet:

like, i say this as a hawk fan, do some of y'all realize how DELUSIONAL you sound? 😭 "demetri wouldn't call him hawk :(" NEWSFLASH, HE DOESN'T HAVE TO. he's his own person. hawk easily could just cut him off and stop being friends with him. easy, simple. people cut contact with friends all the time for deadnaming, it's really not any different for a nickname. "b-but demetri wouldn't stop yapping about mit !" first of all, you're THREE seasons and a full year too early. second of all, demetri has his own reasons for being upset about mit (which is its own thing entirely) but that doesn't mean he deserves to get his arm broken. ESPECIALLY by his ex-boybest friend

now i'm sure some people may be wondering why i don't hate robby for worse. that's a very good question. and i'll settle on this: the panic is evident on robby's face. the whole balcony thing was spur of the moment, he didn't hesitate and weigh his options. he just did it. and he obviously didn't INTEND to kick him off the balcony. he didn't know it was so close or that miguel would fall. he just kicked him bc he was blinded by rage and wanted to win a stupid fight. ALSO robby and miguel have been enemies since DAY ONE. they always hated each other up to that point. what he did was obviously wrong but he didn't realize the severity of what he was doing and he eventually dealt with the consequences.

HOWEVER COMMA (i could write a whole essay on this but i'll reign it in) hawk obviously isn't panicked enough about what he just did since he's able to play along with the cobra kais for a second before they leave, hawk HESITATED when he had demetri pinned which means he obviously thought through and willingly broke demetri's arm, he knew it would break, demetri had NEVER been his enemy before all the karate drama, and hawk NEVER DEALT WITH THE CONSEQUENCES OF THIS. this was an actual felony ! hawk could actually get arrested and sued for this ! this could've been something on his permanent record ! that could ruin his life ! he could've and SHOULD'VE had the same consequences that robby suffered ! but he never faces the consequences. and while robby is forced into this storyline where he and tory can't get into most colleges bc of their record, hawk gets to walk free and apply wherever he wants.

we know, if nothing else, demetri seems to check all the boxes for a normal friend. nothing INHERENTLY pointing to a bad friend. and to add to this, moon, someone who didn't grow up by eli's side and didn't know eli, just his hawk persona, someone with AN OUTSIDER'S PERSPECTIVE, dumps him bc she doesn't like how aggressive and mean he's becoming (specifically toward demetri).

ergo, there's no good justification for him to break his arm, nothing redeeming anyway. so why did he break his arm? a million fanon reasons for why but none canon. BECAUSE THEY NEVER TALK ABOUT IT. an apology should be the least he could do, right? the bare minimum of just "i'm really sorry about your arm, man. all i could see was red and next thing i knew you were screaming and holding your broken arm. i'd take it back if i could." but weird, huh, that's- no, yeah, that's literally just robby's apology to miguel for the balcony. because ROBBY apologized, he and miguel TALKED IT OUT.

all demetri got was "i'm sorry for all of it, wanna help me win this thing?" nothing specific. he just clumps in the entire year into "all of it", as if calling him a pussy and breaking his arm are in the same category. he could've rushed out a similar apology but directly point out the arm and i would've forgiven that MORE than what they did.

then boom they're besties in the next scene. admittedly, in s4, after robby shaves his hair, and he has his self-pity spiral, he says "i just proved i was an asshole...especially to you." well yes, eli moskowitz ! that's an inkling of an apology ! but then he has to play the self-deprecating card and takes a different route from an apology by saying "i got what i deserved." like yeah, you kinda did, but that still doesn't sound like an apology.

then they move on ! and it's never mentioned again until s6 pt 1. S6 PT 1, HOW I LOVED THEE. when it came out, i was so excited, like omg ! demetri's FINALLY crashing out like every other character already has ! he's finally gonna show hawk that what he did was INCREDIBLY fucked up and he needs more than one "i'm sorry" to excuse an actual FELONY.

but then pt 2 came out and just completely 180'd. "whoever denied it supplied it 🤓" my brother in christ, you broke this man's arm and bullied him into oblivion, what are you doing with these fart allegations? and obviously, i'm familiar with the ck writers' tendency to drop storylines but damn, they dropped the severity of their fight in ONE episode, e5 to e6, that's an insane feat even for them sjdkjfdk

anyways, most of what i wanted to talk about with hawk was the arm break and his mohawk, and i basically covered all that. all i can say for the later seasons is i LOVED his purple mohawk but the faux hawk was BY FAR his best look, i fear i will never get over it. (no one mention that fuckass american mohawk, i hate it i hate it i hate it)

also i would love to applaud jacob. i don't know what he does to get into hawk's mentality or what he thinks hawk's motives are but like how did he manage to make a character so INCREDIBLY bisexual that it's pretty undeniable to fans and non-fans. like yes, gianni is naturally tall, moreso than jacob, and he is personally really cute. so it's probably natural that everyone might look at him like THAT. but no one else does. the way THAT MAN SPECIFICALLY looks at him. like jacob?? hello??? i want to interview him so badly and ask what could POSSIBLY be going through his mind every time he looks at gianni's lips and eyes like THAT

and it's not even like an out of context screenshot, HE STARES AT HIM THIS WHOLE SCENE AND IN OTHER SCENES THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE SHOW

i just know if jacob and gianni had control, they'd make hawkmetri canon

i feel it in my soul

i love this bisexual ball of anger, he's my pookie

!! headcanons !!

I'm gonna try not to repeat everything i already put on my hawkmetri hc list but i'll summarize the main ones

BISEXUAL AND AUTISTIC !!

jewish eli !!

short social battery, likes demetri talking for him sometimes, takes long naps after hang outs

anger issues 🙏

OKAY SO as mentioned previously in this post, he totally sat in bed sobbing to himself about being embarrassed by johnny but at this point, too frustrated and angry to actually want to talk to demetri or miguel. he stumbled upon the symbolism of mohawks (maybe someone doing a deep dive on spider punk) and he decided to throw caution to the wind (since he's too pissed off to care) and he spends all night dyeing his hair and learning to style it before he feels satisfied with it and goes back to the dojo with a new confidence (esp after johnny praises him)

SAMHAWK BESTIES >>>>

hawk, at first, didn't understand how sam could switch from bonsai badass samantha larusso to an exhausted, scared little girl named sam. (just wondering what could've possibly rained on that princess's perfect little parade to make her look like her dog died.) it was seeing demetri treat sam the way he so often treated eli after bad bullying days that made him realize she also got panic attacks/overwhelmed. he still doesn't know how to make someone feel better (demetri's never been one to open up and miguel usually feels better after a little pep talk) but he's started inviting sam over to help build lego models. he figures there's no talking required and they can just listen to the music they have in common. 

sam notices hawk get sensory overload (which she picked up some understanding of it from demetri) and asks him to help her put her hair in braids. he doesn't know wtf he's doing and they come out really bad (which she fixes on her own privately) but gently pulling her hair into smaller strands and following a pattern does help him focus and calm down. it becomes a routine to the point where he automatically goes to her and asks if she needs help to signal he needs to calm down. he eventually gets better at it and devon starts asking him for help occasionally

demetri will always be his number one but directly under him is moon, miguel and sam. (and chozen obvi, they're locked in like miguel and johnny)

he wears his hair down around demetri, occasionally miguel but he always has it up. he's not really sure if it comes from his insecurity in his lip or if it's just routine at this point but he almost refuses for anyone to see him without the mohawk, which is why the mohawk shaving hits him so hard.

he gets along really well with all the miyagi-do kids now but sometimes he'll still hear them mention inside jokes from his time in cobra kai or act incredibly friendly with demetri and he just gets really sad for a few hours thinking about how much he missed while he was off being an asshole

he actually gets kind of sad and mad when anyone acts like they're demetri's best friend. he knows logically they're all friends now but it aggravates him knowing just two years ago, none of these people gave him and demetri a second glance but all of a sudden they act like they know everything about him (jealous eli my beloved)

part of his rationale for the mohawk was to protect demetri (but demetri seemed to hate his switch so much that the motivation quickly went out the window)

he asked for demetri's help to dye his hair purple and back to blue at the end of s5 (and the new teal hawk in pt 3 :3)

a lot of his codependency on demetri stems from him being his only friend for so long and being one of the only people that was nice to him obvi but it's also bc demetri seems to have a sixth sense for all things hawk. it might be neurodivergent solidarity or maybe demetri's just naturally a really good caretaker, but hawk doesn't feel as comfortable anywhere else than by demetri's side.

he definitely hates himself for the red hawk stint and that he let his anger issues get out of control enough to do ALL THAT. (his actions definitely made him angrier until it was a vicious cycle) (angry bc he can't go back to demetri. angry at demetri for not accepting him. not able to go to demetri bc he's angry. rinse and repeat.)

final thoughts: hawk moskowitz, you are peak. i love you so much. i know the canon won't let you be canonically bi or autistic bc the writers don't want their "alpha sigma bro" to be seen as "woke" or anything. but i know you, i feel you, i understand you. while i might be disappointed with how you turn out in the finale, i know you've inspired so many people. your growth and your mistakes make you human, and it's been amazing to see a character with such a great non-linear growth. and to have such a badass character canonically be a nerd, YOU ARE EVERYTHING TO ME. I WILL MISS YOU SO MUCH BOOKIE, SAFE TRAVELS SOLDIER, GOOD LUCK