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saras-almanac · 2 days ago

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So I wrote this post the other day about my feelings on the handling of the BuckTommy breakup (which you can read here if you want). And @parrishjeanna reblogged with a link to an article from Tim. I wrote out a reply to it but it became so long I needed to put it in a separate post because it’s over 3k and I need to put it until a readmore.

Okay so I did read that article thank you @kawaiifacesong for linking the not generating revenue clicks because I don’t like reading any articles for 9-1-1 because it’s literally all buddies who can’t ask anything about the show. (Case in point, in this particular interview, the interviewer brings up “The Couch Theory” because Buck and Eddie sit on a couch.)

So this interview was trash for many reasons but I’ll narrow it down to three for the sake of this response: Biphobic nature of the breakup and aftermath, what’s being said in interviews isn’t what we’re seeing, and Tim writes as he goes so there’s no actual plan going forward.

First: The Biphobic Nature of this breakup is still moving full swing.

The idea that Buck is “still figuring himself out” and needs to explore is insulting in so many ways—especially to myself as a bisexual lady in my 30s. Firstly, being in my 30s, the idea that you need to figure yourself out still is absolute bullshit. Yes, you can still find new things out about yourself and make some changes, but usually by this point in your life, you have a pretty decent handle on who you are as a person. Which Buck does have… and we’ve seen that? So it has to be a reference to his newly discovered and realized sexuality.

Which, AGAIN is so biphobic and plays into incredibly harmful bisexual stereotypes that bisexuals need to “explore” to figure out what or who they want. This means either they need to fuck around and make sure they’re really bisexual. OR they need to get enough experience with their same gender to then be able to have a same-gendered relationship. Both of which are insulting and harmful. This idea that Tommy couldn’t possibly be a lasting relationship because Buck just came out as bisexual is wrong. It’s fine if they didn’t want Tommy to be a long-term love interest or even an end-game love interest, but why couldn’t they have done it differently, to hopefully not play into these harmful stereotypes that are still incredibly prevalent today.

Now do I think they fully intended it to play out as biphobic as it is? Not really, but I do think that the heart of what they wanted—Buck exploring his sexuality—is inherently biphobic because of the way they have chosen to go about it. There’s a world of difference between having Tommy break up with Buck so Buck can go exploring and having OS and TM saying similar things in interviews and Tommy and Buck breaking up and Buck getting back out there and dating around. Which if they had given it just a smidge of thought, I have to hope they would have come to that same conclusion and maybe gone about it in a different way.

Second: What Tim’s saying in interviews about what’s happening on the show and in these storylines doesn’t match up to what we’re seeing

I’m going to paste the few paragraphs related to BuckTommy break up here, just to read. I have bolded what I thought was important and what I’m going to talk about after it.

“Look, I think the breakup was premature, but that was by design. For me, the story that I was trying to tell was here’s a guy, Tommy. He’s not a main character on the show. We haven’t done ‘Tommy Begins’ or something. But you do see him in the ‘Begins’ episodes, in flashbacks, and by the time he leaves in ‘Bobby Begins Again,’ he’s turned over a new leaf. He’s feeling more comfortable. He’s hanging out with the new people at the 118 once Bobby takes over, and they throw him a party and bake him a cake when he goes off to his new post. There was even a reference in Broken when Chimney calls him to do the water drop,” Minear explained. “But Tommy’s a guy who’s in a different place in his life than Buck is. And I think what Tommy realizes is exactly what he said, which is, ‘I’m not your last. I’m your first.'” Minear referenced the coffee shop scene in Season 7, where Buck asked Tommy to give them another shot and come to his sister’s wedding, as a point when Tommy thought, “Alright, this guy’s kind of great. He’s super hot and he’s sweet. And this will be nice. And I’m going to be vulnerable for this.” As the relationship grew stronger and the stakes grew higher, however, Tommy reevaluated things. “I think Tommy, in the end, understood that this was not forever — that Buck is exploring himself. He’s still figuring himself out. And even if Tommy doesn’t know it, he might sense the fact that Buck likes to jump in with both feet a little bit precipitously,” Minear mused. “So was the breakup premature? Yes. Because Tommy was put in a position where he had to be honest. And once he speaks the truth, which is, ‘I think I know where this ends, and I can’t move in with you,’ he’s kind of breaking the spell — the spell of that honeymoon. Tommy even says, ‘I didn’t see this coming either.’ I don’t think either one of them did.”

Okay, lots of things happening in this quote but ultimately there’s a massive disconnect in what TM thinks is happening or what he’s saying is happening and what is actually on screen—and that’s a huge problem. You can’t rely on interviews to explain things, it needs to be in the actual text of the episode.

I think the real crux of the issue is this: “Tommy’s a guy who’s in a different place in his life than Buck is… Tommy, in the end, understood that this was not forever… he’s kind of breaking the spell—the spell of that honeymoon.”

Let’s break this down a bit. Tommy being in a different place in his life than Buck… How? Buck has, since the pilot episode, been looking and searching for a stable romantic relationship—he’s always craved that and wanted that. Even in the breakup, he was thinking about their future and marriage and moving in with Tommy. Is that not what the next logical step of a relationship might be? So doesn’t that—regardless of whether it was premature or not—prove that Buck and Tommy are in the same place of clearly wanting a long-term, committed relationship? So if this wasn’t the case, why didn’t you show that? Show them having that disconnect or make it clear that Tommy’s dropping hints about their future and Buck is not in the same place so he’s not picking up on them at all. Because what we saw was Buck wanting and seeing a future with Tommy and Tommy basically telling him that the doesn’t actually.

“Tommy, in the end, understood that this was not forever — that Buck is exploring himself. He’s still figuring himself out.” This is my villain origin point—for real. Because this is also not what we saw! What we saw, was a Buck who was so secure in himself and his relationship, arguably for the first time on this show, that he didn’t panic or second-guess anything really. He was all-in with Tommy and enjoying himself and being with Tommy. He even said that being with Tommy makes him more comfortable with himself—aka what a lot of couples say when they’re in committed and reciprocal, healthy romantic relationships—that being with you makes me happy being me. (Paraphrasing here, but hopefully my point gets across.)

Because what is there for Buck to figure out yet? He knows he’s bisexual and incredibly into Tommy. He’s happy and content with his work life and seems pretty happy with where he’s living. His relationships with his friends and family are all as good as they usually are. So what is there for Buck to still figure out? I’m left to assume that this is again only about his sexuality, which just keeps adding more to the pile of shit that makes me feel crappy and uncomfortable with this storyline.

Also, why couldn’t Buck and Tommy last? Why is that assumed to be the correct conclusion to come to? How many high school sweethearts get together and last? How many people who don’t date until they’re in their 20s-30s find someone right away and stay together? How many people come out as queer later in life because they have found someone they click with and it just makes them see more of themselves and they stay together? Sure, this is not the case with every single person in these situations, but it’s not unheard of. To me, this just feels like the show and Tim are acting like Buck is a young, 20-year-old child and now a grown man in his 30s…

What we actually saw on our screens, was two people who genuinely seemed to enjoy each other and spending time together. That had an easy and sweet relationship, where they both felt settled and comfortable together. It’s why the weird change in 806 felt so abrupt—what do you mean these two people who had amazing communication up until that point, have not talked about their past relationships at all? I think that was done as a shortcut for the writers and TM to say, “Look, see, they’re not compatible, they can’t last because they’re not talking about anything serious.” But again, my point is: then you should have showed us that beforehand, given some foreshadow or lead up to it. Instead, they chose to blindside the audience for the “shock value” and it didn’t work. Shock value for shock value’s sake never works for the audience. They don’t want the rug to be pulled out from under them, they want to see you building something and only after it’s built can they see what you were doing the whole time.

Now, I understand that they just wanted to break them up for “story” reasons (which I have no faith is going to be anything good). While I personally hate that because I feel like there would have been much more storylines and things for Buck to be involved in and it would have opened up a lot more potential stories for the future, I get that it’s not my decision to make. But why couldn’t they actually make this make sense in the actual context of what we’d seen already? If you wanted to break them up because they’re in different places, then having Buck ask Tommy to move in could have caused more of an argument of Tommy saying that Buck doesn’t really see him and doesn’t seem to understand that Tommy has a whole life outside of Buck. O Tommy could have been the one to propose moving in together and Buck freaks out because it’s too soon—which leaves Tommy to come to the conclusion that they want different things right now and he can’t just sit around and hoping Buck will catch up because it would be too hard for him to let go of Buck later. Or have Tommy literally going to a different place—whether temporarily or permanently—and so they have to break up because Buck has a whole life here and Tommy wasn’t about to ask Buck to uproot himself for Tommy…

There’s so many other ways this breakup could have gone instead of the route they went—and they would have made much more sense contextually. Instead, they went this cheapest way possible and have Buck now acting like a child about calling Tommy, when in reality and with the growth we’d seen of Buck in the past 8 years, he would have reached out to Tommy already. At least to talk things through. The baking thing was cute for an episode and it would have been okay for longer, but I’m just sitting here wondering exactly why Buck can’t call Tommy… If it’s because he’s hurt, then they needed to say that because right now, it just seems like Buck is literally being forced to not call him but the audience isn’t really sure why.

All this brings me to my biggest point. Third: I don’t trust anything that’s being said in interviews or by TM because he doesn’t write in advance and that’s a major problem

Before we get into it let me make a disclaimer: I’m gonna need every single network and studio to start requiring all the white men who write for them to actually be getting them scripts. We cannot rely on their “genius” to make sense because these scripts—especially season 8—should have had a few more passes before what we’ve seen. The only episode so far that actually felt like a complete episode was the Halloween episode.

And if this season has taught us anything, it’s that Tim not having any real plans or anything written is actually a massive problem for this show.

Now me not believing TM is not me saying that I 100% believe Tommy is coming back (though I feel like the chances are higher now with the reaction from the GA for ABC to suggest some things or at least give a closure beat to this character and relationship) This is more, nothing that TM has said in interviews up until this point for season 8 has really actually happened on screen except for Eddie shaving his moustache… Granted, I don’t read every single article with him so I might have missed something, but I just feel like he’s got no interest in setting anything up and actually paying it off in any real way.

So many people were so excited for season 8 because it was the first season in years where we actually knew so many storylines going into 8—that weren’t told to us in interviews; they were introduced in the actual show! We had Bobby/Athena’s house hunting, HenRen fighting Ortiz and trying to get Mara back, Madney fostering Mara in HenRen’s place, Eddie dealing with Christopher leaving, and Gerrard back at the 118. Any one of those storylines would have been so amazing to really see explored and fleshed out. Instead, everything was basically settled and done by episode 4—apart from Christopher and Eddie resolution and Bobby/Athena actually moving in / building. To me, as a writer myself, that decision to rush though those other stories was a massive massive misstep. There was so much there to explore and delve into that could have been so satisfying to watch and really reap the emotional payoff.

Instead, we had like 2-4 minutes max of processing HenRen not being able to see Mara again before they were all reunited. Not that I wanted to see HenRen struggling again in this way, but it would have been different and they could have put some humor into it with Karen suggesting they tail Ortiz and try to find things out about her—or Hen comes back from a shift to find Karen has stayed up for 38 hours tracking every single facebook post from Ortiz and her family to try and find something they could use and she’s the one who uncovered the link between Ortiz and Gerrard, which then promts Hen to ask Buck as Gerrard’s specialist boy to ask for a favor or try to convince Gerrard to help them deal with Ortiz.

And Maddie and Chimney having Mara would have been so interesting to see them actually having conversations about what they want for their family going forward—do they want more kids, do they not? Are they wanting to try naturally or adoption? And then Mara being with Chimeny could have also added another layer of tension between Hen and Chimney with Hen being jealous that Chimney is raising her daughter.

I mean Eddie… the fact that it took 8 episodes (basically) for him to actually acknowledge that he needs to do something to be a part of his son’s life is a major problem as well. It makes me not want to root for Eddie to reconcile with Chris because he has shown hardly any initiative in actually confronting what he did and the actual reason why Chris is so upset and feels betrayed. There was a little in 6, but that’s sort of it.

Bobby and Athena, they just don’t seem to know what to do with them anymore. And that’s a shame because there are so many things they could do—namely my favorite thing which is give them more comedy to do! They are so funny together (cruise ship is one of my favorite things). Or they could have had the first few episodes be them sort of couch surfing through the firefam and be a fun little runner of “we really need to figure out what we’re doing.” Even their storyline of their house burning just doesn’t seem to be a thing anymore.

Buck, it would have been so amazing to see him dealing with the work stuff more and having Tommy to lean on, to see Buck who’s been pretty secure in his work for the past few seasons now dealing with Bobby being gone and Gerrard there, just really gets him thinking about the future. Or even the comment about budget cuts, why was that never brought up again? That would have been so interesting to lead up to the midseason finale, which of the 118 is going to get laid off? And Buck being in such a secure spot maybe he volunteers because he wants to explore something outside of firefighting and/or because everyone else has kids and a family and he knows it’s easier for him to not have a job? And then he’s saying his goodbyes and the midseason act out is Bobby announcing that Eddie is going to be leaving them instead.

Instead of really exploring any of that, it’s all been rushed through to move on to the next thing, but the honest truth is: I don’t trust what TM’s great next thing is because he absolutely squandered all the potential he had going into season 8. So all these “amazing things” he has going forward I just don’t trust they’re going to happen or even be slightly interesting. Instead, I assume they’re going to be something that’s like an episode opening and then never mentioned again if they do happen.

I just don’t understand what is going on in his head other than ego right now and I’m just… I deal with too many egos in my life to deal with another one like this.

#didn't expect this to end up as long as it is but i guess i had a lot to say and honestly still have a lot to say but mentally need a break #but this has just made me want to get back into actually writing and maybe writing my own version of season 8 #one day I'll move on but it took me months to get over magicians and this is bringing those feelings back a bit #bucktommy #911 critical #911 season 8

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astronicht · 2 days ago

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I love the very subtle but important presences of bez and pecco in tavullia radio!! and also everything else about it obviously. would love to know if you had any more thoughts about like what they're doing thinking seeing feeling! the image of pecco running into freshly fucked and sucked marc at the espresso machine he can't use and making him a tiny coffee enchants and delights me. in my mind he is suffering horrors. thank you for such a perfect fic!!

thank you Leah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3 <3 So in my head etc Pecco and Marc are already technically or already have been teammates. I was thinking as I wrote it "is this next month? or is this december after the 2025 season?" haha. Either way Pecco is like. In a phase of life where he has decided that he is professionally obligated to have some form of rapport with Marc. And if they've been working together for a bit, they awkwardly kind of already DO, just not. NOT in this setting. Always on neutral Ducati ground. THIS scenario (freshly fucked and sucked marc at vale's ranch, in pecco's friendly ranch kitchen, where he was NOT expecting visitors) is NOT part of this carefully polite professional rapport. Unlike the rest of the guys Pecco can't just grunt and shuffle past (he totally could have; Marc did not want to talk to anyone). He's forcing himself to try to be normal and thus extending everyone's suffering lol. They don't even dislike each other. This somehow makes it all worse.

Pecco made Marc a Turkish coffee instead of just getting out one of the 3-5 mokas kicking around because he has gotten into foodie youtube and Turkish coffee came up, and he carefully bought the correct little cup to boil it in and the correct finely ground coffee and he has like, watched videos on how to get the foam right. Very much your friend who gets really into foodie youtube and is suddenly making what you think of as simple staple dishes with all the right utensils and the correct dipping sauce that no one in ur family ever bothered with. He actually had come in to make a coffee for himself before practice (i think he's considering doing a little mentoring? which never interested him much. Marc appears in moments of Pecco identity or professional crisis, in this universe) so you have to picture Pecco out there somewhere with a little cup of Turkish coffee and haunted eyes, wondering if he can drink it.

Marc actually wanted tea, or to have the balls to wander around the ranch in boxer briefs and a t-shirt smelling violently like sex, but he saw the giant fuck-off luxury espresso machine and was like. the look of it annoyed him so he was definitely going to force it to work or just break it. a little bit his instinct to push at vale a little, to try to figure out where the lines are, or to know for sure that vale isn't going to snap over something normal again.

So that was the mood and then pecco came in and was like oh god. oh god he's going to touch the espresso machine and we'll have to have it repaired again. oh god we won't be able to tell vale that marc did it and we'll have to blame celestino again. Just polite Pecco voice being sooo normal like Hi Marc Would You Like A Coffee :) [intense suffering]. He is overcompensating and being as normal as possible bc marc looks fucked ouuuuut and also is doing the terrifying dead fish eyes and slight grin he does when in extreme physical pain and forced to converse, bc he's dissasociating and also does not care enough to make nice expressions for pecco. (Vale used to fuck himself to sleep despite insomnia -- like he just did -- all the time when Marc was 22 and the memory is a bit much.)

Bez meanwhile is having a total gay... crisis isn't the right word. ring of keys dot mp3. the particular egg-cracking feeling of seeing something you didn't know you desperately wanted until you want it violently and think you're gonna cry for no reason. seeing it is both horrifying (for the same reasons pecco is horrified; marc is fucking motorcycle dad) and makes him want so much it fills his mouth with spit, and that scale of desire is weird and confusing and almost a high. but also he LIKES having a grudge against Marc. It's comforting. It's so awful to be jealous of him, while also realizing he's not jealous that Marc is fucking Vale, because in the end Bez is also being forced to realize that he doesn't exactly want to fuck Vale (well, it's complex, but he doesn't want to fuck Vale like Marc wants to fuck Vale and thus Marc even managed to get a win over Bez by being gay in the way Bez would've liked to have been gay).

Anyway!! Bez got wronged in this fic, I don't want to assign him "italian son with sisters who never learned to make coffee". But i did do that. Also he feels twitchy and guilty about the falsely attributed coffee thing for days. Probably vents to Celestino, who is like "why are you talking about coffee bez i am at the club. did i break the espresso machine again bez?? i can't hear u maybe there's better signal on the roof [call dropped as cele's phone dies and isnt' charged for 3 days]"

#APPARENTLY I HAD THOUGHTS #this fic had more going on in the background then i feel like mine usually do??#which made this extra fun tyyyy #moto gp #my fic #ask replies #fic ask replies #pecco #bez #marc

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draconeko · 12 hours ago

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I just arrived and I apologize in advance if I write a lot of text but omg I like to explain what's on my mind even if there's no need @asperanna @jonksi @onionowt @nanomii @rainbigbrain @ejsuperstar @ebi-skycotl ( You don't have to read my ramblings but I put the tags anyway )

Pluto is a mix of orange, skrunkly and smol. The kind of cat that I would totally hold in my hands but end up with a bitten finger. They are funny, they talk a lot and I find them very authentic, the kind that you imagine running energetically around you and their motivation rubs off on you, when I met them I thought they were more chill but I never felt disappointed for being wrong

Jojo/Kitty/Catofaurora I would say is a mix of Loaf and skrunkly, she is very funny, she makes you feel welcome, she is understanding and her humor always makes me laugh, she always has some joke to make about some random post. You can tell she has a good heart, that's why she is a loaf to me, I wouldn't be here if she hadn't found me.

Onion, nanomii and Rain were definitely (maybe still are) Tux, but now that I've interacted with them they're more of a mix of Tux and other cats

Regarding Rain, I agree with Pluto, they're totally a cloud, they're chill, they're calming and friendly, probably introverted like most of us, but they're the perfect person to talk to when you have an anxious mind.

Onion is a shorthair! Outside of admiration, I always remember the post that talked about their studies, I've always perceived them as someone who has worked very hard but is unable to notice how much their effort has paid off. As a person they seem very soft to me, maybe that's why the hug, must protect?

Nano is smol, we're both too anxious to even talk, we probably want to but we don't know how, if you read this nano, I appreciate you just for leaving little messages on rbs

EJ would say they're smol too, maybe smol creature? they are right in the middle where they are not chill enough to be a cloud, but not chaotic enough to be orange or skrunkly. It's a balance that I find very curious. I can't describe this with cats but I find them very full of passion, I admire people who are passionate about the things they like (even if it's just a hyperfixation). Basically a person that makes me very curious but I'm not sure how to interact

Ebi, Ebi is Loaf and shorthair, they makes me feel cuteness aggression, very soft, very gentle, a good listener not only to friends but to total strangers, sometimes very altruistic too. It's a surprise that there's so much evil for their ocs in their heart, I can expect it from Ari, from pluto, bohap or aria, but ebi… Anyway I still remember what they wrote when thet made the drawing of the deer of the nine colors, I think it's something that totally stuck in my memory and I don't know why.

I hope I haven't forgotten anyone, I'm sure I can assign a cat to some other mutuals but right now my mind isn't bringing them up.

WHAT KINDA CAT ARE YOUR MUTUALS

I REALLY WANNA SIT HERE AMD GO THROUGH TAGGING EVERYONE BUT I HAVE TO GO TO BED NOW SO I’LL DO SO TOMORROW!!!

#They have a place in my heart #and I'm just emotional

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icarusredwings · 2 days ago

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Letters.

Tw: General warning about phycosis and bad mental health.

Thinking about Wade becoming conscious sometimes out of his manic/phycosis episodes and scribbling down everything, he wants to tell who he's with before he's gone again.

It starts off as a letter, adressing them, telling them his feelings, explaining complex things that he cant comprehend in this state, how much he loves them, and then it goes down hill to apologizing for being a burden, the end of the page scribbles in more and more pressurized versions of "Im sorry Im sorry Im sorRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY

I'M SORRY

IM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRY with tear drops smudging some of the words. And then when you ask him about it, he doesn't remember even writing it.

People always ask Vanessa why she stays with Wade. Why or how she could put up with him for so long. And the truth is, his good days? He's a great person. He's a good man, Savanna. And an amazing lover.

One day, Logan finds one of the letters on the counter, a lot of words scribbled out but it, in short, says

"Logan,

I know I'm a pain in the ass a lot of work but I love you please don't give up on me

But its the bad days that pile up, become endless. That's what breaks her. She can only help so much. And it breaks her heart to think about ever truely giving him up.

I'm loosing my mind trying really hard. Wade."

She's explained this to Logan, bringing him to her dresser and pulling out a shoe box full of papers, notes, letters.

Every single one of them is from Wade. Ranging from love letters that are multiple pages long, sticky note with hearts and a doodle of stick figures banging doggy style with "Happy hump day!" on it, and uncoherent smuged and half scribbled out notes from his bad days telling her how badly he wants the voices to stop. To leave him alone. Telling her that she should leave him. "You can do better. You DESERVE better." The words say.

"Vanessa,

I know you need me here with you, but I'm losing myself, and I'm afraid you're gonna lose me too. These powers keep me alive, but they're making me crazy. And I need to save you, but who's going to save me?

Please forgive me for whatever I do

When I don't remember you.."

"Is that?... That show with the strenchy dog?"

She nods, taking it back and carefully putting it back into the box. ".. That was one of the first letters I ever gotten like this.. he thought the cancer would take his ability to remember me. So.. he wrote me that."

"So what do I do?"

"What do you mean? There's nothing much you can do.. but according to this? Don't give up. If you want too.. I used to write back but.. sometimes he didn't awnser again. Still though... He said he's trying.."

#tw mental illness #phycosis is not a joke #vanessa carlysle #poolveriness #poolverinessa #poolness #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool #wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadclaws

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bugbyte · 1 day ago

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This this this. I absolutely hold no ill will toward anyone who got a diagnosis in months. Everyone should have that option. Faster, really.

But it’s been hitting me lately about how many little oddities and weird injuries and other problems that made my life hell growing up were more than likely just undiagnosed EDS/POTS/the other muscular dystrophy situation I don’t want to think about yet.

There’s grief. Being told for decades that you just have weird knees, but being unable to explain why gym class makes you feel like you’re actually dying. I was a skinny little kid and I think doctors and gym teachers wrote it off as me just not wanting to try. I tried and I tried and I tried. I wanted to play a sport like my friends, and because that was apparently the only capital that would get you treated like a real person and serious student by the teachers and administrators. If I had known I couldn’t do it because of a disability, just, fuck. My self esteem would have been a whole lot better.

Doctors saying these kinds of things led me down a path of “well, I just have to work harder.” This turned into an escalator of “eat better” (actually helpful) and “work out more” (coulda been helpful with proper guidance.) So I decided over time to take it to an extreme so hard that no one could deny I wasn’t doing enough exercise: I started training to run marathons. And I did! Multiples of them! It was a unique and delicious hell.

Runner’s high is real, and so I’d spend the first 5 miles staving off agony through mind over matter, snacks, music. Eventually the bone-grinding pain turned to numbness and then the high feeling somewhere between miles 5 to 8, reliably. I could ride that for a while, but when it wore off, it wore off.

Whatever the remaining distance at that point felt like dragging my body through quicksand. Whatever pain I had at the start came back multiplied by ten. But seeing the folks around me, no one was having a great time at the end of the race and I assumed all of this was normal. I would be incapacitated for days afterward, but no one could tell me I hadn’t worked hard enough to get there.

I absolutely cannot do this now. I am sad because despite the pain and injuries, it was a lot of fun. I have no idea if I contributed damage to my body but I try not to think about it too hard because it’s so far in the past.

Anyway, to bring it back around, I guess my point is that not having a frame of reference for why your body seems “wrong” to you, and the people whose job it is to advise you about it just…don’t…can really, really make you spend a lot of time trying desperately to be “normal” and it can be potentially dangerous at worst, or at least a waste of time.

It took my entire life (with a decade in the middle where I gave up for a while) to find the right path and the right people to help me understand myself and my weirdo genetics.

I wonder a lot how my life could have been different if I had known more much sooner. But I try not to think too hard about it, either. Just keep moving forward like a shark, one of the things I’d repeat to myself during races. It still applies.

I’m going to be a bitch for a second, but when I’m conversing with someone newly diagnosed with MCAS/POTS post covid and they complain about “the long wait” to get diagnosed and that “long wait” is 3-4 months my entire brain blue screens.

Like on the one hand, yes those 3-4 months must have been so, so scary and I am so unbelievably glad we’re in a place where doctors know enough to reconize it now. Like truly, I am so sincere I am so happy for them.

But I’m also just like... 30 years, man.

I spent 30 years being told from the age of eight I was manifesting my allergic reactions through anxiety by health care professionals.

Fuck, five years ago when I was starving to death from how severe my MCAS had gotten an allergist told me it was anxiety.

And you got diagnosed in three months.

MONTHS

AND YOU’RE COMPLAINING

I’m not mad at them. I’m not. I’m just sad for myself.

But also, hey, yeah. If you come into an MCAS forum and wonder why a bunch of the old timers get upset when you complain it took months for a doctor to listen to you, this is why.

It's not that you deserved to wait longer. It's that we didn’t either and and sometimes even good changes can unearth a world of hurt.

#healthposting #chronic pain #chronic illness #eds #ehlers danlos syndrome #hypermobility #pots syndrome #incompetent doctors #anxiety #in quotes #lol

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generalsdiary · 1 day ago

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if you accept requests, can i request sunday with an express crew reader who has a fake halo ring on their head because they think that is pretty, they first meet him on the express and went to touch his halo ring thinking it is fake too? i know it is quite long and a bit specific so feel free to skip. And your writing is so good! your little analysis on sunday's wing ADORABLE.

(theirs is just plain sparkly rubber band😭)

hi anon! I do accept requests. and seriously don't worry, I LOVE THE IDEA, it is not at all too specific or long; actually the perfect amount for me to work with.

I would've written this yesterday when you sent the ask, but I was caught up painting (Sunday of all people lmao). also, I'm so glad you like my writing, tysm! hope you like this one, I wrote it really quickly, cos I'm still busy but this had caught my attention for sure.

Sunday x gn!reader

warnings: none

word count: 400~

One more check in the mirror, yes, it looks good. You nod at your reflection. The golden halo gives the illusion of realness. At least, that is what you tell yourself. It probably looks ridiculous to actual Halovians. Never mind, you smile at your sight in the mirror and head to the main car to greet guests.

Despite visiting Penacony with the crew, you failed to ever meet the infamous Sunday. And he looks even more beautiful in person, it is almost dazing.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” you chirp, shaking his hand.

“Likewise” Sunday smiles, you can almost hear a choir singing. He looks like an angel. That halo is perfect. Should you ask him for tips? You reach out with your hand. “Your halo looks amazing, how did you make it so perfectly?” and… your fingers pass through nothing. Feeling a bit surprised, you ponder if it is a gadget with a projector? Doubtful. It takes a few moments before you notice that you stunned the poor man.

Sunday dryly chuckles, “It… it is very real, I assure you.” He takes a small step to the side, making his halo move further away from your touch.

To say you blushed would be an understatement. Hoping the Express would crash at that moment just so you wouldn’t have to deal with this situation, “Uh.. I- I am so sorry- I didn’t mean to-“ you fumble with your words trying to salvage the situation.

“I understand. I can see your… pretend one.“ He smiles. You’re internally cursing at yourself and biting the inside of your cheek, could this be any more embarrassing?

“I just think they’re pretty. Angelic, and wonderfully complimentary on a person.” There’s a proud aura around you, maybe you saved the situation.

“Ah, so you’re a flatterer. Thank you, I do agree they are pretty. Although, they are a genetic part of me.” Sunday smiles. Internal high five, you saved the conversation. Except for the fact Sunday looked at you up and down. Is he checking you out? Or judging the way your halo looks on you? Either way, you avert your gaze, swallowing hard. What a bold man.

“I wasn’t trying to flatter-“ No, you gotta be bolder; match his energy, “I know they’re genetic, as I know that your kind can even influence, some of them, how the halo ends up looking.”

There’s a knowing glint in his eyes and an ever-resting smile. “I’ll happily explain how and why… care to get a drink with me and we can sit by one of the windows?” And there’s no way in hell you say no to him.

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celestemagnoliathewriter · 3 days ago

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Euphemia and James - Writer's Notes

Earlier this year I wrote a fic titled "Euphemia and James," a story exploring Euphemia Potter and infertility. This is the most deeply personal story I've ever written, and it took a few weeks to write it because of the emotions it stirred up for me, but honestly, being able to write this took years of processing emotions. I decided to share some of my notes on this fic in this post, and it includes this lovely cover image from @livelaughlovetoread. This story is also unique in that it's written in second person POV. It wasn't intended to come out that way, but that's how it came out. See below the image for my notes:

Euphemia and James came from these lines from the extra-canonical writings on Pottermore/whatever they call it these days:

"[Fleamont] sold the company at a vast profit when he retired, but no amount of riches could compensate him or his wife Euphemia for their childlessness. They had quite given up hope of a son or daughter when, to their shock and surprise, Euphemia found that she was pregnant and their beloved boy, James, was born."

If you don't know anything about infertility, I envy you somewhat. Studies have shown that a diagnosis or experience of infertility is similar to receiving a cancer diagnosis or losing a close loved one. It took me a while to realize that a lot of the feelings I had surrounding infertility was actually grief and mourning.

So, I put it all into this fic. There are a few points I want to highlight, if you decide to read the fic or want to see some lines, and my feelings around it all:

"When you meet Fleamont Potter a year into your job at the apothecary, you have no intention of marrying him."

I more or less shamelessly wrote Euphemia and Fleamont's relationship to be similar to mine with Mr C. In fact, Mr C aka @rawr-gorg-smash read this work and we were both sobbing messes by the end of it.

"It will happen when it happens, they say. It will come when you least expect it, they say. That’s what everyone says, and you’re ready to punch the next person in the face who tells you to just “relax.”"

Infertile people will get advice like this frequently. It's meant to be helpful or sometimes soothing, I think, but all too often it's an empty hope. Sometimes, bodies just don't work right, no matter how much relaxing you do.

"It’s not polite to ask. Everyone knows where magical, adopted children come from. They are Muggleborn children who are delicately extracted from their birth homes and replaced with Squibs, or sometimes not replaced at all."

This part is world building by me - the idea of adoption in a magical world seemed odd to me. How would infertile magical couples adopt if they can't use potions or charms? I wouldn't put it past them to just take a Muggleborn child, modify memories, and go. I won't touch on real world adoption-there's a lot to unpack there-but this idea gave me some thoughts on magical adoption.

"It seems selfish to want more, when you already have so much. You question, for the first time in your life, if you really want a child."

I have heard people say things to this effect: it's so selfish to want your 'own' children or to want children and bring them into this world, or some variation of that. If this is what you believe, you and I are going to disagree and I'm not going to try to convince you otherwise. But it's something I and many other infertile people have considered. The thing is, people have had children and will continue to have children throughout terrible periods of time. Does it make sense? Not necessarily. Human actions don't always make sense. To me, though, it speaks of hope. Hope for a better tomorrow, for a world that we will build that will be better for the next generation.

"Now you wish for a living child. There are no longer any expectations on your baby or the kind of person they’ll be. You want a living, breathing baby in your arms you can dote on, educate, feed, and guide through life."

I'll say that one of the few silver linings of infertility for me has been re-grounding my expectations of what kind of child I might have. It once was wishing for a boy or girl, or a kid who likes to read, or a kid who won't be into extreme sports, but now it's just a kid I want. I want to love them because they exist. That's all.

"It’s a shame that you only got nineteen years with your son, the one you wished had been born twenty years prior, so you could treasure twice as long with him."

One of my fears for having children later in life is not having enough time with them. Then again, young parents die. Even children die. If nothing else, whatever time I do have, I hope I use it to love whatever family I have to the fullest.

That's all I have for now. If you made it this far, read the fic, commented on it, left kudos, or a bookmark, thank you very kindly for your time. Of all the things I've written, this felt most like putting a piece of my heart into the world.

#euphemia potter #fleamont potter #james potter #euphemia x fleamont #cw infertility #infertility #cw pregnancy #pregnancy

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clemswinecorner · 17 hours ago

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Birthday [Harry Lewis/W2S]

Summary: You and Harry have barely been dating when his birthday rolls around.

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: swearing probably, nothing major

Happy Birthday to our favourite!! In honour of his birthday, I wrote this (don't mind this being published when his birthday only has like an hour left)

Main Masterlist

You and Harry had only been romantically involved with each other for a month or two when his birthday rolled around. You’d sent him a birthday text in the morning, of course, but didn’t see him until later in the day. He spent the morning with the Sidemen recording some golf video, and them and his friends would all meet up at his around 5 p.m. You were kind of nervous when you showed up, because it was your boyfriend’s birthday. Especially because the relationship was still so new, you were a bit nervous about how it would go and what the deal would be. You knew his friends since you’d met through Josh years ago, being Freya’s lifelong best friend. You made your way into the friend group when you moved to London, and had celebrated his birthday with him plenty of times before, but this year was different. It was Josh who opened the door, not Harry, and you greeted him with a smile.

“Ah, look who’s here!” You give him a quick hug and greet Callum, who was just walking out of his room, with a smile. “I’ll tell him you got here, yeah?” He says, before he walks back to the living room. Harry’s roommates were both aware that you guys are more than friends, though you hadn’t explicitly told them. You’ve just taken off your coat and shoes when Harry walks in. “Oh, hello,” you turn around to him and smile. “Hey birthday boy,” you smile, holding out your hands for a hug, which he accepts. You smell the sweet cologne he usually wears when recording on his hoodie, as he holds you tight. You lean back, still looking at his face with your hands around his neck. “Happy birthday, my love!” You smile, placing a kiss on his lips. You can feel a smile form on his face as he pulls you closer to him. “Thank you, baby. Glad you could make it,” you jokingly roll your eyes. “What, you think I’d miss your birthday? I haven’t in years,” He lets out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, no, you haven’t. You look really nice, by the way,” he tells you, finally able to check you out. “Thank you. Now, do you want your present now or later?” You ask, and you interrupt him before he’s able to talk. “I know I didn’t have to get you anything, but I wanted to,” He smiles at your kindness, “Okay, thank you. I don’t know, I think a few people want to do it during dinner, but up to you,” You nod and think about it for a second. “I’ll give it later, then,” you say, dropping your tote bag on the floor. He nods, and walks back into the living room, with you following him. You greet everyone enthusiastically, not having seen most of them for a while.

At around half six, Harry walked up to you, nudging your side. You turn your attention away from Simon, who you were in conversation with. “I’m going to get changed, and then we’re going, yeah?” You nod, excusing yourself as you put down your empty glass. You quickly pack two wrapped presents out of your bag, before you walk into his bedroom. He turns around, his shirt already off. You still weren’t tired of that view, and you shameless looked him up and down. He was already in his black trousers, and it was a shame he had to put on a shirt. “Sorry, could’ve knocked,” You softly say, and he shakes his head, “No it’s fine, was just confused who it was.” He sticks his arms through the sleeves, and god, this shouldn’t be as hot as it is. You sit on his bed, and he looks at you curiously as he buttons his shirt. “Sorry, just admiring my view,” you admit, and you can see a slight blush spreading on his neck and chest. He doesn’t say anything back. , nervously smiling as he focuses on his shirt. “Anyway, I have some presents with me as well,” He looks up again with a smile, taking a seat next to you. You first hand him a flat, squared present, making him look up curiously. “Did you talk to Cal about this?” He asks, glancing over to the record player that was still in its box in the corner of his room. You shrug, not wanting to give away anything. He carefully unwraps it and takes out the vinyl cover. “Oh wow,” he says, looking at the cover on the front, a photo you took of him and his friends last Halloween. He smiles, looking up at you, before he goes back to inspecting the cover and turning it around. He looks up at a soft smile of the picture of you looking at him, love evident in your eyes, and him looking down laughing. “Wow, that’s amazing. Is there an album in it?” He asks, looking at the pictures again. “So, Callum did mention to me how they were getting you a record player, yes. It’s, err, actually been custom pressed, it says the songs on the cover as well,” His eyes widen. “Oh wow, that’s incredible. Holiday pub golf version oh I love that,” looking on the A side, which had the picture with his friends. He turns it around, reading the B-Side, “Tiny Dancer, Elton John, oh that’s the one that played when we went on our first date, isn’t it?” You nod, and smile at the memory. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure if you’d remember that. Side A is like, Sidemen related songs, and like, Wild Ones and then the other one is like… Songs that remind me of you, and us,” she explains. “Ooh, Wild Ones, that’s a gem. Wow, thank you, this is really cool,” he embraces you, setting the Vinyl down on his bed for a second to embrace you. “Thank you, that’s wonderful,” he whispers, pulling back to give you a kiss. You smile, and kiss him back, the same butterflies exploding as the many times before. “Harry, we have to get to the restaurant,” You remind him when you take a second to catch your breath. “Yeah, yeah.”

The group arrives at the restaurant around seven, walking there from Harry’s place. You and Harry go in first to inform the staff of the reservation, whilst the group waits outside and chats. Because it was a slightly bigger group of about 15 people that were all relatively well known, he’d rented the small upper floor that was a small extension of the restaurant that would normally fit about twenty people. You go outside to get the rest of the group and enter the cosy room, that has a classy Italian aesthetic. They’d put the tables together, so everyone could fit around, and you take place next to Harry and Callux, Ethan sitting on the other side of Harry and Chip and Callum sitting across from you. You grab his hand under the table as everyone orders their drinks, shuffling a bit closer. When everyone has ordered, the boys decide it’s time for presents, before people get too drunk or too engaged in conversations. The boys make their rounds, at least the ones that didn’t give him anything already, before it gets back to you. Harry looks at you, not expecting you to have anything from him, as you get a small box shaped wrapped present out of your bag. “Y/N, you already got me something,” He lowly says, “No, it’s just something small, please just open it,” you ask, giggling at the thought of the present. Harry reluctantly takes it, tearing off the wrapping paper. He looks at the box, opening it to reveal six golf balls. “Wait, are these…” He looks at you with a laugh on his face, and you nod. “Oh my god, that’s amazing,” he lets out a genuine laugh, taking out one of the golf balls to look at it closely. Ethan looks over, also laughing at the images on the balls. A few of the guys look confuse, so you look at them to explain it, “They’re golf balls with pictures of me on them,” you tell them, and everyone laughs, wanting to see them. When Harry has the box in front of him, now empty as the balls are being passed around, he turns towards you. “Thank you, baby, I love that,” he says, leaning a bit closer. This was kind of dangerous, knowing his friends all surrounded you, but you didn’t really care. They’d know at some point anyway. “It’s just a silly thing, but I’m glad you like it,” you say, looking into his eyes you can see his smile in. He leans closer until your lips are touching, whispering another thank you before he gives you one last peck, moving back. He moves his arm onto the back of your chair, lightly grazing your shoulder, as you see Josh looking at you with raised eyebrows. Tobi clears his throat, “Anything you want to tell us, guys?” Harry’s eyes widen at the realization of what he’s just done, and you give him a reassuring smile. “Oh. Well, we’re, like, together. Please no big deal though, we’re just, you know,” Harry rambles, and you smile, taking his hand under his table. He briefly looks at you, and relaxes when he realizes you’re okay. “Ayy they both finally did it, everyone give it up for Harry and Y/N!” Chip exclaims as everyone cheers, and you hide on Harry’s shoulder as you chuckle in embarrassment. You sit up again and see Callux give you a small smile, leaning closer to you. “I’m glad you have each other, he has been happier because of you. And you seem more yourself, too. I’m glad,” he shared, making you smile. “Thank you, genuinely. And also for not really asking, took us a while to figure out what we wanted,” she admits, and he nods, “Of course. Oh, is it time for the thing yet?” He changes the topic, and you look back at Harry laughing with Ethan, Simon, and Callum. “Oh, yeah, can you ask Theo? He has the present,” Callux nods as you turn back to Harry, nudging him. “There’s one more present,” You say, interrupting the conversation. The boys all look at you, understanding the signal to shut up, and Harry frowns, trying to work out whom he missed.

Theo speaks up, “Okay, so, this is from all of us, really,” he tells him, looking around the group. “I do think I speak for all of us when I say you mostly have Y/N to thank, though, because she did a wonderful job working it out, but it’s a bit of a group effort, from us, to you,” He explains, handing over a square, somewhat thick, package. Harry looks around the group curiously as everyone expectantly watches him unpack it. “Harry through our eyes, a reminder of our love for you,” he reads curiously, opening the book. He opens it to a written page surrounded by group pictures of him and his friends and family. ‘Harry,’ it reads, ‘You’ve done so much for all of us, we wanted to give you something back. You mean so much to every single one of us individually, and you deserve to know. This is who you are through our eyes, hopefully you see the same magic we do in you.’ He looks up around the group, before he flips to the next page filled with crazy pictures of him. He lets out a chuckle, turning the page to see a combination of written texts and pictures. “You can read it all later, but it’s basically all of us and some more people sharing what they think about you. Stories, pictures, memories. Your parents and siblings are in it as well. Just, for whenever you need it,” you explain, as he flicks through the book. “Wow. Thank you guys, wow, that is so, umm, my god. Thank you,” he says, truly meaning it. You smile, resting your hand on his thigh. You make relaxing motions, Harry clearly a bit overwhelmed with his emotions, as he briefly looks through. “Oh wow, these are old,” he chuckles, looking at a picture Chris had taken of him the first time they’d met. He looks around the group once more. “Thank you guys, thank you,” He expresses once more, and everyone reacts with a smile, “Of course,” or some other form of reaction. Harry kisses your cheek as a thank you as he turns to you once more. “Thank you, it’s wonderful.” You smile, looking into his eyes. “You deserve to know how loved you are.”

#wroetoshaw #harry lewis #w2s #w2s x reader #w2s fic #w2s imagine #harry w2s #sidemen #sidemen x reader #harry lewis x reader

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luxheroica · 20 hours ago

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under your tree (1/3)

Anyways Ekko/Jinx has made me insane and I'm not stopping. So here have fanfic about Ekko, Jinx, and the tree that I wrote in a fugue state last night. Planned part 1 of 3, the first is alternate-Powder and alternate-Ekko.

Also on AO3

----

She drags him up out of her lab, not entirely sure where to go but too jumbled up to stay. Powder’s heart is racing as she twines her fingers in Ekko’s, and she has never been happier to feel his grip strong and vital in her own. That breathless moment when he wasn't moving when she thought– she had held VI's body in the same way.

“Where are we going?” he asks, bewildered, stumbling along behind her.

“Just come on.”

Her feet know the path and she trusts them. While she does her mind races, all of the strangeness of the past few weeks slotting into place like a puzzle in her mind.

His fear on seeing her, his confusion at Milo and Claggor, the way his whole face changed when he saw Benzo… the way he hadn’t known Vi was dead. She thought he was just messing with her, in a particularly cruel way, or maybe he’d lost his mind after a particularly weird dream.

The way he’d kissed her tonight, like he was so desperate to hold on to her.

Now it all makes sense. Something that she was beginning to suspect but didn’t think was quite possible.

Her feet take her to the tree. Where Ekko painted his portraits of Vi.

Vi who lives. Vi who is from some other place and time entirely.

“What… is this?” Ekko– her Ekko– crosses to the portraits alongside her, wonderment in his eyes. “Is that Vi?”

Powder smiles. “A present,” she says. “From another you.”

Ekko scoffs disbelieving. “Seriously, you can stop messing with me.”

“Did you know that the competition is tomorrow?”

Ekko whirls around. “What? No– it's weeks away!” He waits for the punchline that he knows is coming, and then scratches at his head. “Seriously? What do you mean it’s tomorrow, I thought–”

“You had plenty of time?”

Ekko nods. He swallows and she watches his Adams apple bob, as he takes this in. “Powder, why did I wake up on the floor of your lab?”

“Because an alternate universe version of you took over your body for a few weeks, built a time machine that created a space anomaly, and then went back to his universe.”

She expects him to laugh. She expects him to accuse her of making it up. Even as she says it, it sounds a little crazy.

Ekko flops to the ground. “Huh.”

“Yeah,” she says. She doesn't approach, doesn't touch him. Gives him time to process.

“That is about the wildest shit I've ever heard.”

Powder snorts. “Don't I know it. Imagine three weeks of my boyfriend acting like a lunatic, and I only now figure out why.”

“Imagine losing three weeks of your life to an another version of you!” He scratches at his head in that way he does when he's frustrated. “I can't believe the content is tomorrow and I haven’t prepared anything!”

Powder laughs. The Innovators Competition seems like the least of her concerns right now, but of course for him he was just thinking about it. It consumed his every thought “To be fair, while making his time travel device he maaaaybe finished your battery. It works great, by the way!”

Ekko sits up, offense playing across his face. “He finished my designs??” Then he shakes his head. “Is it weird to be jealous of another version of myself?”

Powder considers. And yeah she's gonna push it because she likes pushing his buttons. “Would now be a bad time to tell you he kissed me?”

Ekko nearly chokes.

“In my defense I thought he was you!”

The fight goes out of Ekko, and he sighs. Lays down in the grass and looks up at the wall where Vi’s eyes from another universe look down on the both of them. “You think she’s alive, in his world?”

Powder nods. She curls herself next to him, intertwining her fingers with his. “Yeah,” she says. “He told me about her, a bit– said it was a dream he had. Said she was the strongest fighter in all Zaun.”

There under that tree she tells him all about the dream the other Ekko told her about, that strange world where Vi lived and was in love with a Piltover heiress of all people and she went by a different name and she and Ekko hadn't really talked in years and Zaun was still just like it used to be and maybe even worse.

“It’s weird,” Ekko says while she talks. He rubs his forehead, his brow creasing in concentration. “It's like I can remember it, a little– while you're talking. Flashes of memory… I don't know if they're real.”

Powder curls their fingers together. “I think alternate universes are uncharted territory for anyone.”

Ekko snorts. “You're telling me.” He squeezes her hand reassuringly. “It’s strange. Everything I'm feeling, it all feels so sad and awful and scary… even if VI's alive so many people were dead, and we hadn't talked in forever…” he trails off, and Powder imagines it– really imagines it– that universe that other-Ekko came from and it makes her sad. “And don't get me wrong, I'm glad he left and I get to be me and not have my life hijacked by some alternate me, but…”

Powder levers herself up. “But?” she prompts.

“But why'd he do it?” He turns to look at her, and there's something anxious in his brown eyes. “I don't know if I could leave to a world where we never talked.”

Powder smiles. Rolls over and kisses the bridge of his nose. They haven't said it yet but she loves him–whichever version. “Because he's you. And because they needed him, the people on the other side.”

Ekko turns this over in his mind. “What was he like, the other me?”

Powder scrunches her nose as she tries to think. “Like you but weird. Like, he was really jumpy at first and then he got all sentimental over weird stuff. But, he was you– just as smart, just as idealistic. Always had his head in the clouds and his nose in an equation.”

Ekko laughs. Flicks her nose. “That doesn't sound like me at all.”

“Oh doesn't it, Mr. Free-Energy-For-All?”

“I still can't believe he finished my designs.”

Powder rolls back laughing, because he sounds so indignant. He continues to glare, annoyed. And then after a minute joins her in laughter.

“I think I saw him for a minute, at the end there.” Powder says once she's caught her breath.

“Oh? What was he, uh…?”

“Really hot,” she says, because she knows it's going to make him jealous but she’s also calling him hot and he can't say anything about it, and it’s such a delicious conundrum. “Kind of rugged, too– big baggy clothes and wearing war paint. Not at all a buttoned up nerd.”

Ekko rolls over, pins her to the ground like she's been goading him to do. “I'll show you buttoned up nerd,” he says, and he kisses her breathless.

And it’s different from the way he kissed her earlier tonight. For one he knows how she likes to be kissed, knows how to tease her. But there's nothing of that delicate way he held her like she was this precious thing that could break, and she wants that intensity again.

They stay like that awhile. Just kissing, just enjoying each other. And they don't think of other worlds where they haven't talked in years and maybe never will again.

At last they stop, because Ekko looks at his watch and says, “Oh shit, I should get you back home!”

Powder tickles his knee with hers, hoping to tempt him into giving in again. “We’ve got time. I said I was going to the dance.”

“It’s almost 2am, I'm pretty sure your dads are gonna kill me.”

Powder snorts disbelieving. “Nah, they wouldn't.”

“No, I know Silco quit being a crime boss but I'm pretty sure he still knows how to hide a body like, super good.”

Powder kisses him again– with a little bit of tongue, for good measure– and then when she's sure he's about to give in she jumps to her feet. Ekko looks at her exasperated but fond. “Alright, genius. Let's get you home– you've got a presentation to give tomorrow.”

Ekko groans.

#arcane #arcane spoilers #timebomb #my writing #feat. background silco/vander #do you think powder brought alt-ekko back to the tree?

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loveless-in-nowheresville · 1 day ago

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-JJBA x reader jealousy headcanons-

Really randomly felt like doing this so-

here!

But yeah jealousy headcanons, self-explanatory I think. Got carried away (as I do) (Bruno oml I had. Much to say. Basically wrote an outline for a fic for him lol)

Characters: Joseph Joestar, Rohan Kishibe, Bruno Bucciarati (randomly much longer than the other ones whoops), Guido Mista, Leone Abbacchio

Warnings: jealous behaviors obviously, mild violence implied, slightly unhealthy relationship with Abbacchio and his low self-esteem, mildly suggestive I guess

-Joseph Joestar: A man who has no right getting jealous, but will anyways. Never a super intense jealousy, I think it would take quite a bit of boldness from another person flirting with you before he gets jealous enough to step in. Though when he does get jealous he’ll play it off really passive-aggressively, with that usual arrogant charm of his. “Oh I’m sorry (he’s not sorry), my date and I (he puts a hand on your hip) were just LEAVING (he gives you a pointed look that asks you to play along), let’s go, DEARIE ( a nickname he uses for you when he’s a bit miffed)” and before you know it you’re being dragged away by a massive British man. It’s a bit embarrassing really…because he Does start fights over you, and he always acts so proud of himself too-

It is kinda funny to see him acting all smug over winning a fight (easily, since he’s huge and muscular and a really good fighter) and then immediately getting dragged off and scolded by you. His sudden shift from that confident and arrogant guy to a nervous and apologetic mess is entertaining to see.

You do think it’s kinda sweet that he cares enough for you to actually get jealous, but you also know it’s kinda just a pride thing for him. He’s always been a man who takes things pretty far, always been a bit wild and untamable…and you liked that about him…but you always knew it would get him in trouble, and usually you were the one picking up after him when he lets his jealousy get the best of him and he ends up causing a scene.

-Rohan Kishibe: Man who fervently denies being jealous but gets jealous easily and all the time. He gives off weird vibes so sometimes people just ask: “is this guy bothering you?” if they don’t recognize him or can’t tell your in a relationship with him and wow does it make him mad. He goes into one of his little rants about how he is your partner and it is completely rude to assume he was bothering you just because he doesn’t coddle you like some other men would their partner. But honestly can anyone be blamed for thinking he was a little sketch? He typically doesn’t talk to you very nicely, and he looks like an odd individual just following you around.

Beyond people, he also gets strangely jealous when you show animals more attention than him. You stopping to pet cats or dogs on your little strolls with him, and he’s just glowering a short distance away. A full on SCOWL. He gets so annoyed when you coo and pet and hug an animal for too long in his presence. Probably because he thinks you prefer the type of love and affection animals can give you over the type he gives you. He knows he’s grouchy and irritable and sometimes struggles to say nice things, so in a way it makes him feel self-conscious. But he thinks that’s stupid, so he doesn’t use his words and instead acts jealous, making petty comments about how ridiculous it is that he must share your affection with animals and he’ll even shoo animals away from the two of you sometimes. You think it’s silly. And you can easily tell what’s going on, no matter how hard he tries to deny it.

-Bruno Bucciarati: (Bruno is so hot when he gets protective oml-) He’s a mature man, and doesn’t often give in completely to his unpleasant feelings and emotions, and jealousy is no exception. You will Not catch this man embarrassing himself by causing a fuss over something small. Someone flirting with you at the bar and even buying you a drink? Not a big deal. He trusts you, and he knows your heart belongs with him and he would never want to be one of those jealous lovers constantly smothering their partner.

When it does get to the point where he steps in, it’s when someone starts getting too handsy and cozy with you.

You still remember the first time Bruno intervened out of jealousy.

It hadn’t been a big deal at first, some inexperienced guy somehow let his friends convince him to try and talk to you at a restaurant. Bruno had stepped outside for a minute to take a work call, and either this guy hadn’t realized Bruno was your husband, or saw Bruno leaving as the perfect opportunity to swoop in and make his move.

You sip your wine, minding your own business and waiting patiently for your busy man to return, when your peace is rudely interrupted by some guy who thinks he can just come up and talk to you. You can’t help but find it a bit funny…surely this guy just didn’t know who you were? You let him make a fool of himself for a bit.

First there was his pathetic attempts at complimenting you, telling you your eyes were mesmerizing and you were like the sun and-well you didn’t pay much attention for very long, just nodding along with what he said.

You hadn’t noticed Bruno had walked back into the room. He was waiting, watching for a moment, knowing you were eventually going to send that guy away, but at first he thought it was a bit amusing too. Yes, that guy definitely didn’t know you were mafia, and that Bruno was your husband.

When you notice Bruno’s presence, you relax a bit, and this guy who couldn’t take a hint for some reason thought it was because of him and tried to shoot yet another shot.

He dares to invite you to dance with him.

You say you have two left feet.

He insists.

You say no.

This time he laughs and says that you were just being shy, and he reaches down and grasps your wrist and you realize this brat is gonna try and drag you into a dance.

Your attention had been so focused on the stranger, that you hadn’t noticed Bruno getting increasingly irritated at the audacity of your fanboy.

Before you make a move to break free from him, the sound of Bruno’s open palm slamming onto your table immediately focuses your mind on the man you’d much rather be dancing with.

Bruno wasn’t a PDA type of man, with the most he’d usually give you being just some handholding, or your arm wrapped around his, but now-

He had angled himself in such a way that your face was practically pressed into the exposed parts of his chest while he was turned just enough to shoot daggers at the man who had the nerve to try to drag you out of your seat.

You could feel the eyes of the patrons in the restaurant, the ones who knew Bruno watched carefully. They knew it took a lot to get Bruno to cause a scene in a restaurant, and some were morbidly curious to see where it might go, now that he’s finally been pushed there.

It was a moment’s lapse in his usually controlled demeanor, but his eyes remained sharp against the man, who backed up instinctively at Bruno’s interference.

“Mind if I cut in?”

You know Bruno better than anyone, and right now you can hear the irritation in his tone, and you realize this is the first time anyone’s been quite so bold trying to get your attention in front of him.

“Well, I, uh…we were gonna dance…” the guy stammers out. Despite not knowing who Bruno was, he could tell he should feel intimidated right now.

Bruno is already holding his own hand out to you, and when you take it, he helps you to your feet gently, keeping a much closer proximity to you than he usually would.

“You’d better get in line then,” he replies, not hiding the displeasure in his voice, but you can already tell he’s calming down a bit now that he’s got your hand in his.

This guy doesn’t even know what to say, just kinda stands there stammering like a fool while Bruno slides his hand down to your lower back, eliciting a small shiver and gasp from you, very effectively displaying the intimacy of your relationship.

He lifts your left hand up with his right, almost like the two of you were going to dance right there, but you recognized he was very purposefully just emphasizing his wedding ring on your finger.

“Bruno,” you hiss when the man awkwardly scurries off. He really was making a scene and it was embarrassing, despite how much you loved this side of him you rarely got to see.

You can practically see Bruno snap out of it, and he clears his throat and finally untangles himself from you and calls for the check, but he doesn’t apologize for causing a bit of chaos, because he doesn’t regret it.

-Guido Mista: He’s quick to jealousy, and his disposition means his jealousy is gonna be the problem of everyone in his vicinity.

At first it’ll start with intense glares at whoever he’s concerned about, and even you, kinda trying to goad you into telling whoever’s getting too cozy to piss off.

You’ll notice Guido lays on the physical affection very thick to try and leave a message. His hands are on you, practically pulling you into his lap, very intentionally placing his hands in positions to suggest the romantic nature of your relationship.

He whispers in your ear and rubs your shoulders and back and doesn’t even hesitate to badmouth whoever’s bothering him.

He might even start fights, usually never hurting someone too seriously, but not shying away from giving them a scare at least. (The proper way to handle someone making moves on your sweetheart is to inform the offender that you have a firearm.)

You find it embarrassing, but you’re flattered he feels so strongly about you. And you know it comes from a genuine protectiveness, but also a bit of possessiveness, given his unfamiliarity with serious relationships and his anxiety that he might lose you.

A guy who can learn to mellow out a bit as you become more comfortable in your relationship, but he’ll always be a bit fiery, and quick to act, especially when you’re involved.

-Leone Abbacchio: Probably at first bottles up any jealousy he feels. Just add it to the insecurity pile. He already has such low self-esteem.

He feels like he’s not good enough for you…you deserve a man who can actually give you that emotional intelligence and kindness you deserve…honestly you’d be much better off with a guy like Bucciarati than him, and he cannot help but feel that every time he hurts your feelings or makes you frustrated, or even when he swears you seem more relaxed and comfortable around Bruno instead of him. You’re probably just settling for him.

For some reason you’re pursuing a relationship with him, probably for some superficial reason he can’t see yet. Maybe you just liked his body, or you enjoyed how pathetic he was. No matter how much the two of you fought, he would Always come crawling back to you, a desperate man who couldn’t give up the only person who let him into their bed and showed him some genuine compassion, even though he couldn’t fathom why. Jealousy from him translates into irritability, a lot of it internally, mentally tearing himself to shreds for being so pathetic. But also externally, more likely to say something like: “THEN JUST LEAVE,” or “find someone else,” when the two of you have an inevitable argument. And sometimes it’ll result in an unfounded accusation, something like: “I know you’d rather have literally anyone else, but for some reason you think you’re stuck with me.”

It says a LOT more about him than you, but it still hurts your feelings that he might actually believe that.

Of course you want to be with him. He matters so much to you, he just doesn’t let himself see that. But deep down, he knows if you really didn’t want to be with him, there was nothing stopping you from moving on.

You need patience with him, but also firm and honest. He’s Really bad at opening up himself, but if you do it, he’ll try to do the same. Only because it’s fair.

It’ll eventually get through to him how you feel about him, and someday he’ll come to terms with how much he genuinely cares about you, and how he wishes for a future with you.

#jjba x reader #jojos bizarre adventure x reader #joseph joestar x reader #jjba Joseph Joestar x reader #rohan kishibe x reader #jjba Rohan Kishibe x reader #jjba bruno bucciarati x reader #Bruno Bucciarati x reader #guido mista x reader #jjba guido Mista x reader #Leone Abbacchio x reader #jjba Leone Abbacchio x reader #my writing #loveless letters

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inspired-lesson-plans · 16 hours ago

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Well, since this blew up and became my most successful post, I'll add a few more things about Bordentown's MVP of AP Bio.

She's English, from England (Kent, I'm pretty sure), one of four sisters. Her accent has largely faded over the years, but her cadence never did. Imagine growing up where your mom talks like Ian McKellen.

I inherited some of that affectation, such that when I started teaching a lot of kids would ask where I was from. But I wish that I inherited her memory.

When she got her biology degree, there were only two kingdoms of life: plants and animals. Yet she still remembers more from her time in college than I do.

Has literally never been able to tell left from right. She would put transparencies on the projector backwards and the class would have to tell her that she was the only one who could read it.

One time some of her fellow teachers were discussing the boy bands they used to listen to in Middle School and how that made them feel old; i.e. NSYNC vs One Direction. She chimed in (read this with cadence) "When I was in Middle School, The Beatles were still together."

She once told me "I don't really like recorded music. It doesn't feel alive."

She made that lute to accompany her singing (which she does well but seldom), but she can't actually play it. This is not for lack of trying. More precisely, she learned how to play, but she was never physically able to. The third knuckle on each hand is slightly malformed, such that her ring fingers cannot put enough pressure on the strings, despite many hours of practice. So when the lute got damaged in transit years ago, she repaired it as best she could and then put it away for good. I never knew it existed until I was 18.

In the early 2000s she wrote a YA novel about a girl who gets sucked into the Fey and has to help save them from domination at the hands of Queen Mab. Too many plot points to summarize, neither can I share a link to it because it no longer exists, save for her and my memory. Imagine if your mom had written The Golden Compass, printed it at home, didn't bother publishing it, then lost both the manuscript and the floppy disk that held the only copy.

She also wrote a sci-fi novel about space-faring amnesiac vampires trying to find their home planet. The twist is that they were the products of a top-secret genetic engineering project headed by Dick Cheney during the War on Terror. When she told a colleague about it, he was so bought in that he asked, "Do you think this could be really happening?"

Very concerned that my mom has chosen the path of bioterrorism.

#and many more #tw trypophobia #personal #my mom #biology #ap bio #music #ya lit #I'll share more if I can think of anything

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introspectivememories · 11 months ago

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what's wrong with data analyst bernard?

summary: tim's a workaholic ceo. bernard is, to put it simply, a down-on-his-luck loser with a kid to take care of. somewhere along the line, they meet. (very loosely based on the 2018 hit kdrama, "what's wrong with secretary kim?")

A/N: for @chamiryokuroi bc this fanart has given me brainrot since the moment i saw it. but also bc, i missed writing and your art helped. i hope you like it. (more notes at the end.) (AO3 LINK)

Today is a good day, Bernard thinks happily, brand new ID badge bouncing on his tie. It's his first day at Wayne Ent. and Mori had sent him off with a hug and muttered, "have a good day, Tou-san." It's been bouncing around in his head all day. Tou-san, Tou-san, Tou-san, he's really a dad now. He's got to make sure Mori has everything he needs and this new job is going to make sure he can do that.

Shaking his head once to clear it, he takes a sip of the complimentary coffee a team member bought him for his first day. His team leader, Young-joon Lee, is taking him on a tour of the building. Young-joon is a wonderful man in his late 30s but it's very clear that he's been consumed by the office lifestyle.

"...and here is our magnificent lobby!" Young-joon is saying as he tunes back in. His team leader spreads his arms wide out as he speaks, "Everyone knows the lobby but it's my personal philosophy that making friends or at least being on amicable terms with the ground floor staff will make your life easier."

Bernard laughs politely, "I know what you mean. I can't tell you how many times being nice to the host at the restaurant I used to work at saved my butt during rush hour."

"A man after my own heart!" Young-joon says, smiling widely as he leads him to the help desk.

Bernard tilts his head up to look at the skylight. It's a gorgeous thing with little animal motifs running alongside it. It lights up the lobby bringing a welcoming feeling into it. With the sunlight pouring into the room, along with the din of busy workers in slacks running to and fro, it really feels like stepping into a movie.

Are you seeing me Darls?, he thinks with a childlike glee, hand coming up to thumb at his badge again, I made it!

"This, my friend," Young-joon says, pulling up to the help-desk, "is our wonder-duo. Tamara and Abhishek. They practically run this building. Lord knows we'd be tripping all over ourselves without them."

Tamara and Abhishek smile as they get introduced.

"They run this building?" he asks confusedly.

"You see, young padawan," Abhishek says, "not only do we help the people that come in here asking questions or for instructions, we also answer any questions the staff has for us."

"Things like, 'What's HR’s number?' or 'Can you page Data for me?' or 'No seriously, I'm calling HR on this man right now. What is their number?'" Tamara says grinning.

Bernard laughs. It feels like that's all he's been doing since he got here. "You have to tell me the story on that one day."

"Sorry," Tamara says, faux-apologetic, "the minimum clearance on that story is half-a-year. Gotta level up."

His cheeks hurt from smiling. This is his and Mori's new beginning. This is where they level up. Nothing's gonna stop him now.

"Do you know the story behind that one?" he asks, turning to Young-joon.

"Of course! But where would be the fun in telling you? You have to stay the six months and if luck comes my way, longer."

"You want me for longer?"

"Of course, I saw the way you worked during those practice problems in the interview. I had to fight the other team leaders for you. It was brutal."

"Get back I say!" Young-joon says, miming a sword fight. A pleased warmth builds in his chest; they wanted him, they wanted him!

Darls you better be fucking watching this. I'm movin' up in the world.

"Ooh, send me that footage. I wanna see our newest recruits skills," Abhishek says.

"You got the data team fighting over you?" Tamara asks, eyebrows raised, "I wanna see it—"

Whatever she was going to say is cut off by the sound of both of their pagers pinging. Immediately going stock still, they start typing on their computers.

Bernard turns to Young-joon confused but his team leader looks like nothing is out of the ordinary.

"The boss is coming." Young-joon says, like that's a reasonable explanation for two people shutting down in the middle of the conversation, "It's always quite a spectacle and they always have to notify the other execs. Just watch."

Still, the boss? Maybe Bruce Wayne will say 'hi' to him and he'll charm the CEO and Mr. Wayne can figure out a way to—

No, no. He's done making those kinds of fantasies. Nobody is coming to help. Bernard is going to figure out his life on his own, he is going to take such good care of his kid, and he is not going to wait for some rich billionaire to swoop in and take care of him. He got this far didn't he? He'll get even farther.

He and his team leader lean against the help desk sipping coffee as they wait for the CEO to come in and sure enough, a black Rolls Royce pulls up to the driveway in the front. The minute the door opens, flashes from the paparazzi's cameras start going off. Out steps a bodyguard in a black suit with an umbrella opened. From below the umbrella he sees a nice pair of brown loafers step out. The CEO seems to be wearing a navy blue suit today. The paparazzi roars and the flashes increase.

"Oh wow," a man remarks a few feet away from him, "the circus is strong today, huh?" His friend laughs.

A woman wearing red heels steps out after the CEO, the paparazzi flashes decrease dramatically. More bodyguards exit after the woman and form a square around the CEO and his assistant/secretary. They shuffle towards the entrance where he sees the elderly doormen greet the executives with a smile. Whatever they say is lost to the sound of the city but the doormen laugh and push the doors open.

Young-joon's been making small talk throughout the entrance and Bernard tries to keep up but whatever the hell is going on at the entrance is way more interesting than anything his team leader is talking about. As they enter the guards spread out and dissolve the square. The woman comes into view first, red heels with a black slacks and a white button down. She's holding a long coat in one hand and a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. She's gorgeous and clearly the one in charge, going by the way she barks orders at the guards.

Young-joon says something and he turns around to respond, grabbing his coffee cup off the desk counter. His CEO's loafers tap across the lobby's marble floor, something about it is comforting. A lull in the room's conversations causes the CEO's voice to carry over.

"...Tam, make sure the quarterly reports are on my desk by at least 4 today and make sure to push back the sales meeting by 30 minutes to an hour, the board wants to talk — Oh Mr. Bardakcı! Thank you for stay—..."

Bernard's heart jackrabbits in his chest. He knows that voice but- it can't be. It's not possible; he chose Wayne Enterprises for a reason. He's not supposed to be here. He's supposed to be at his father's company. Unless... there was a merger? No, that seems like the kind of thing the news wouldn't've shut up about. He would've known.

When was the last time you had time to sit down and read the news, Bear? Darls says inside his head

She's right. With filing for custody of Mori and graduating from college and the job search, he hasn't had time for much else. It's entirely possible that he could've missed one of the biggest mergers of the decade.

Fuck, Fuck.

He wasn't supposed to be here. Bernard was supposed to be moving on. He was supposed to be building a life for himself away from the shadows of his childhood. He was supposed to be forgetting that Tim Drake ever existed.

He has to make sure though. Turning his body around, he prays that it's not the man he thinks it is. But sure enough, there stands Tim Drake, resplendent in a navy blue suit and a golden tie.

Golden ties for golden boys, he thinks absentmindedly.

The suit fits him perfectly, stretching across his shoulders and wrapping around his waist. Even the tie looks knotted perfectly. How long did it take him to learn, Bernard wonders. He could never get it right back in high school. Does his assistant Tam do it- no, no! This is why he didn't apply to Drake Industries. Bernard can't do anything around Tim and Tim is never going to care enough about him to stay.

Tim's head seems to be turning in his direction and Bernard whips his head back to make sure Tim doesn’t even catch a glimpse of him. His hand twitches violently enough that the coffee cup falls out of his hand and spills all over the floor. The cup rattles deafeningly on the floor. Bernard can't fucking breathe.

"-ernard? Bernard!" his team leader's voice cuts through the haze in his head. Young-joon looks concerned, "Are you okay?"

He blinks slowly, "...What?"

"I said, 'Are you okay?’ You look like you've seen a ghost?"

No, Bernard thinks, seeing Darls would be preferable to whatever level of hell I've found myself in.

"I'm—, I'm fine." he says rather unconvincingly. His eyes dart back to the spill, "What am I saying? There's a large puddle of coffee on the floor. I—, I should get some paper towels for that."

"Do you have any paper towels, Wonder-Duo?" he asks, trying desperately to ignore Tamara and Abhishek's concerned looks.

"I already called the custodial staff," Tamara says slowly, like she’s trying not to spook him, "but if it makes you feel any better," she pulls out a huge stack of paper towels, "go crazy, I guess."

Bernard takes a handful of paper towels and gets to work. The cleaning is meditative and with each swipe of the paper towel, the puddle gets smaller. Bernard pretends the puddle is his feelings for Tim. Swipe, forget about the 4pm milkshakes and his laughter when Darls snorted milk out of her nose. Swipe, don't think about the way he used to smell. Swipe, he left and never looked back; you don't look back either.

The tap, tap, tap of loafer on marble is getting closer to them for some reason. Why is it getting closer? Does it not have staff meetings, market research, and people to leave behind?

"What is going on here?" Tim asks.

"Nothing much, sir." Abhishek responds, "Newbie just spilled some coffee."

Abhishek, no!

"Oh is that all? And he took the initiative to start cleaning instead of waiting for the custodial staff. You made a good choice, Young-joon."

"Thank you, sir!" Young-joon says, "I was taking him on the tour when you came in. Most newbies love the show so I thought we'd stop here for a little bit."

Tim laughs. Bernard hates that his heart still skips a beat at the sound.

A pair of brown loafers and a wool-covered knee slowly appear in his vision. Why is Tim crouching in front of him? Why won't this man leave him alone?

"This looks like quite a lot of work, let me help."

You can help by leaving me the hell alone, he thinks uncharitably.

"I hope you found the facilities to your liking," Tim continues, like he hadn't heard Bernard's thoughts, "My name is Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO."

I know, he wants to say. I know you're Tim Drake. I know you like to skateboard and that you stared at Tony Hawk's photo for an hour every day in high school ‘cause didn't want to be one of those people who didn't recognize him. I know you struggled with your dad not really being there. I know you loved Mrs. Winters as much as you loved your mom. I know that you like history more than any other subject even though your best was always math.

Bernard says nothing instead.

Tim laughs awkwardly and Bernard knows he isn't helping the conversation along but whatever, he's allowed to be petty, right?

"I assure you, whatever you heard in the tabloids and the news, isn't true. I promise I won't bite…," Tim’s voice trails off as Bernard lifts his head.

"...Bernard?" Tim whispers, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

Bernard tries for a smile, he's pretty sure it comes out looking like a grimace.

"Sir," he says nodding curtly, hands still moving to sweep up the coffee puddle.

Tim's hand reaches out to touch his face, as if to make sure Bernard is really there. Bernard recoils as Tim's hand grazes his cheek. Tim's hand hangs in the air uselessly.

"Bernard?" Tim says again, as if to make sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him.

"That's my name, Sir," he says through clenched teeth, "don't wear it out."

He can feel Young-joon and the Wonder-Duo's confused stare but he says nothing. What would he even say, really?

Hey, this is my old friend Tim Drake? Hey, I used to know him like the back of my hand? Hey, our best friend died and it feels like I'm the only one still grieving? Hey, in my junior year, five different gangs shot up my school and my best friend died in my arms and he left and I had to pick up the pieces by myself? Hey, I'm the idiot that's still in love with Tim Drake?

The clack of Tam's heels comes as a welcome distraction.

"Tim!" she says, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, "What the hell do you think you're doing? We have to go talk to the board. Build rapport with your employees later."

Tim stumbles to his feet, "Yes, but—, I—, This is—"

He sounds like he's glitching. Bastard. Is it really such a surprise to see Bernard in a well paying job? Even Tam is starting to look a little concerned now.

"Explain later," she commands, dragging Tim behind her. Bernard keeps his head down and continues wiping up the coffee puddle. Sneaking a glance upward shows him that Tim keeps turning back around to stare at him.

For a moment their eyes meet, brown against blue. 'Bernard?' he sees Tim mouth. Bastard, saying his name so many times. Doesn't he know what that does to Bernard? Why does Tim insist on breaking his heart again and again and again? Was once not enough?

He's tired of putting these walls up and just for a second, he lets them come down. Let Tim see the entirety of his brokenness. Tim already has his heart, he can have this too.

'Tim' he mouths back, smiling sadly. Tim looks stunned and the rage that had been simmering in his gut begins to boil over.

Do you see what I've become? Do you see how thoroughly Grieves ruined me? Is this not your doing too? Why did you leave? Have you ever visited Darla? Why was it so easy for you to not look back? Was I not your friend? Or was it just a time pass? Why wasn't I enough for you to stay?

He watches until the elevator doors close, separating him from Tim once again. His body sags like a marionette cut from its strings and his fingers clench uselessly around the coffee soaked paper towels. A hand lands on his shoulder and he flinches.

"Hey, hey," Young-joon soothes from where he's crouched right next to him. When did Young-joon crouch down? How much time has he missed? "It's just me, Bernard. Are you okay? What was that? Does our CEO know you?"

He exhales shakily. He needs to get out of here. He needs to sob hard enough he throws up. He needs the steady press of a knife on his back. He needs things he's not allowed to have anymore.

Bernard shoots up so fast the world spins around him. holding onto the desk for support, he tries to smile at his team leader. It stretches across his face misshapenly.

"I'm—, I'm sorry," he says stumbling over his words in a rush to get them out, "I have to—"

He has to what? Pretend to not see Darls out of the corner of his eye? Pretend like his hands don't have blood on them? Pretend like he isn't seeing bullet wounds every time he closes his eyes?

"—go to the bathroom," he finishes lamely. Gathering up all of the paper towels, he walks away dazedly, ignoring Young-joon's calls behind him. He shoves the towels in the nearest trashcan, letting his feet lead him to the nearest bathroom.

The bathroom is thankfully empty when he enters and he locks the door behind him. Sliding down the door, he exhales shakily. There's not enough air in this room; he can't breathe. The fluorescent lights hum above their coverings. The one on the left flickers. Who's bright idea was it to install school lights in a business office's bathroom?

The world outside the bathroom rushes on too loudly. Somebody is talking about their vacation. Someone is bemoaning their presentation today. His chest is getting tighter. His hands come up to tug on his hair. Why can't he breathe?

The exhales are coming quicker and quicker. Something comes tapping down the hallway. It's the gunmen, it has to be. A quick glance down tells him all he needs to know: he's covered in blood.

It's Lila's, he thinks dazedly, I had to carry her into the office. Or no, it's Olu's. I held him when he died. He said, he said, what did he say?

Why can't he remember? He hits his head with the heel of his palm.

Think he tells himself, we have to tell Olu's parents what he said. He said—, he said—.

His body sags.

Oh now he remembers. He said, "I don't wanna die Bernard."

A whimper tears itself out of his throat and he slaps a palm over his mouth. There's blood smeared across his face now, he must look like he walked out of a slasher film. He has to be quiet. if he's too loud, the gunmen will find them and then they'll all be dead.

Cry quietly, he tells himself, Darls doesn't need—

Darla! How could he forget about Darla with a hole in her gut? He needs to get to her. Lurching forward, he scrabbles across Mrs. Castillo's linoleum floor. He's smearing Olu's blood everywhere. Why won't Nikhil stop fucking crying so loudly? Goddamn freshmen and their hysterics. Where is Tim? Is he safe? He can't lose both friends today, please Lord, please.

BANG!

A violent flinch tears through his body. He sobs audibly this time, gagging on his spit. It's the gunmen, it has to be. He hasn't even held Darls' hand or counted Tim's moles for the last time. Where are the Darls? She shouldn't be alone. She doesn't like violence like this.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" a voice asks from behind him.

He freezes. Slowly he turns around and nearly yells in shock. Falling back on his butt, he stares up at his friend.

(He has to be quiet, he has to be quiet, he has to be quiet-)

Darls is standing behind him still in her crop top and cargo pants. Her once smooth midsection, bloodied and warped. The bullet wound still drips blood.

Plink, plink, plink.

Bernard hates the scent of iron.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" she asks, her voice echoing, "I thought we were friends."

There’s blood dripping down the side of her mouth. Now he remembers, the blood on him isn’t Olu’s or Lila’s — although there is that too — it’s almost overwhelmingly Darla’s. He’s covered in it. Elbows deep in it. It streaks up his arms like a macabre tattoo. He wore a white shirt to school today. The stains will never come out. He is Carrie at the end of prom, mortified and humiliated.

He crawls backwards until his back hits the wall, the impact knocking him out of the worst of that night. He's back in the bathroom. The lights hum loudly overhead. Darla hasn’t left yet.

She tilts her head, “Why didn’t you help me, Bear? I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” he rasps out, “we are friends.”

“Are we?” her eyes have no pupils. His Darls had eyes that shone in the sunlight. His Darls is dead. “Then why am I still bleeding? Why am I still hurting? Why is there a bullet in my stomach, Bear?!”

She’s shouting by the end and he flinches. His hands can’t seem to stop tugging at his hair. The blood must’ve smeared all over it. Talk about taking strawberry blond literally.

“I swear I did everything I could Darls,” he sobs out quietly, voice cracking, “I followed all of Mrs. Castillo’s instructions as best I could. I put pressure and tied the dressing as tight as I could.”

“You thought that was enough?” she snarls, hands coming down to grip the wound. It twists grotesquely; he gags, “You think any of that matters when I’m dead and you’re still alive?”

“Please, please. You know I wouldn’t leave you to die, Darls. Please, please, please believe me.”

“Liar, liar!” she screams, blood dripping out of her mouth onto her pink LOVE shirt. It darkens as each drop hits it. Soon it’ll be completely drenched and she’ll be drowning in it. Where did his smiling friend go? “I’m dead, Bear! I’m dead, dead, dead and it’s all your fault! Why didn’t you save me?! Why didn’t you save me?!”

He keens, body curling in on itself. One hand goes down to press on his throat; he’s making too much noise. Nikhil’s just a freshman. He shouldn’t have to die just because Bernard couldn’t shut up for once in his life.

“Please,” he whispers raggedly, “I tried, I tried. I swear I tried, Darls.”

“It hurts, Bear,” she sobs. Darla’s too young to be sounding so wrecked, “It hurts so much. Please help me.”

All of sudden, it’s too much. The taste of iron sits heavy on his tongue and Darla won’t stop sobbing. His fingers fumble for his phone and he presses one. It rings once, twice and finally on the third ring does a voice answer.

“Bear?” the other side says groggily.

“Ty please, I can't do this anymore,“ he sobs.

Tyrone suddenly sounds a lot more alert, “Bear what’s going on?”

“Darla won’t stop crying and she keeps on screaming that it’s my fault she died.” he wails, “I know I should’ve done more but please, can you tell her I tried? That I stayed with her until the end? She won’t listen to me, Ty. She won’t listen to me.”

There’s a muffled yell of ‘Babe!” on the other end. “Yeah,” Ty breathes out, “I’ll tell her.”

“You put me on speaker, okay?” Ty instructs, “And you gotta tell me if she’s nodding or if she’s gone or if she said anything, alright? I can’t see her.”

“Okay,” he whispers, pulling the phone away from his ear to press the speaker button.

“You tell me when to start, Bear,” he says, voice filling the bathroom. Darla looks up from where she’s sobbing.

“You can start now Ty,” he rasps out, holding the phone out.

“Hey Darla,” Ty says, “Bear told me you said a lotta mean things about him. Stuff like, ‘he’s the reason you died’ and that ‘he never cared’. Darla, you gotta believe me when I say Bear never stopped caring. He held your hand the whole way through. Told you stories about all the things you two were gonna do once you got out of that nurse’s office. He tried, Darla, honest. I’ve never seen him as focused as when you stopped breathing and Mrs. Castillo had him give you CPR. He couldn’t stop sobbing the whole time.”

“But I’m still dead,” she says.

“But I’m still dead,” he repeats.

Ty inhales sharply, “Yeah,” he says thickly, “you are. And I’ll never stop being sorry about that. But you can’t take that out on Bear. He’s just trying to live his life.”

Darls’ face twists up like a childs, “But it hurts,” she cries.

“But—, but it hurts,” he repeats, voice hitching.

Ty curses, “Oh, fuck. I can’t do this. Babe, can you—?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Hey, Darla. It’s me, Jimmy from the football team. I don’t know if you remember me but I remember you. After high school, me and Tyrone ended up getting married. Somewhere between shitty weed brownies and bad college parties, we fell in love. Isn’t that nice?”

Darls nods; he tells them as such.

“We visited you after the ceremony. I hope you felt that wherever you are these days. But the point I’m trying to make is that from all I’ve told you just now, you can probably figure out that Ty and I didn’t go pro like we planned. The shooting fucked up Ty’s knee and and my arm. After the hospital stays, playing football for a whole bunch of people just didn’t sound appealing anymore. We’re high school teachers now. Ty teaches math and I teach gym. When it rains or gets cold, my arm and Ty’s knee hurts like hell. But Darla, it doesn't hurt forever. It gets better, I promise.”

“Darla,” Jimmy says, voice unusually serious, “you’re right, you are dead and it does hurt. I’m sorry, I’ll never stop being sorry. I don’t know if it’ll ever go away for you; I’m not too much of an expert on the supernatural. Ty’s the smart one, after all. But I love you, Ty loves you, Bear loves you. I hope that when it hurts the most you can use that as a balm.”

“Auntie Bea loves you too!” Ty’s mom hollers from the background, “Aunt Betty, too!”

Ty laughs wetly and Jimmy snorts, “Does that sound okay?” they ask.

Darls smiles, her teeth stained red from all the blood that built up in her mouth. Bernard misses her with an ache he feels in his bones. Darls nods.

“She nodded,” he says quietly. He blinks once and she’s gone. Where did she go? Doesn’t she know that the gunmen are still at large? She needs to be somewhere safe. He can’t lose a friend today.

“Bear, Bear, you gotta breathe. Take a deep breath for me, c’mon,” Jimmy says.

“She’s gone, Jim. She’s gone again. Why does she keep leaving?” he says, crying. His body can’t stop trembling. How long has he been here? How much time has he missed?

“I miss the cult,” he whispers, “I never had things like this happen when I was with them.”

“Yeah,” Ty snaps, “‘Cause you were high off of like 50 different pain meds ‘cause you let them whip you.”

“Ty, not helping.”

“Move over, let me talk to him."

"Hey, sweetheart," Auntie Bea's voice crackles through his tiny speaker, "I know you're tired and I know you're hurting. I know you miss the cult but you gotta breathe for me, okay? You're gonna pass out otherwise."

"I can't, I can't," he gasps out.

"Sure you can, you just gotta tell me five things you can see. Can you list those five things for me?"

Bernard desperately tries to get his breathing under control, "The sink is dirty."

"Good, good. Anything else?"

"The tiles need to be re-grouted."

Aunt Betty barks out a laugh. Bernard's lips twitch upward.

"Keep going."

"My pants, my white shirt, my ID badge," he rattles off.

They talk him through the rest of the grounding techniques and by the time he feels like he's in control again, he's exhausted. His eyes hurt and his throat is dry.

"Can you tell us why you spiraled so hard, Bear? This hasn't happened in a long time," Jimmy asks.

"I spoke to Tim again," he says simply. He pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to the sink. Setting the phone down on the counter, he grips the sink with both hands and just breathes. The Bernard in the mirror looks like he just came out of a warzone, eyes haunted, hair messed up.

"Oh fuck," Ty says, "Where did you even meet him?"

"At my new job at Wayne Ent."

"Why would you apply there?" Jimmy asks, stressed.

"I didn't know! It's not like I've had a lotta time in the past few years to check the news!"

"Well, whatever, what’s done is done." Ty says, ever practical, "Are you going to quit?"

"No!” he says vehemently.

“No,” he repeats quieter, “Wayne has the best benefits and Mori needs that. I’ll just suck it up and try to avoid him.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Aunt Betty says.

“Ma!”

“Oh be quiet Jimmy. I’ve never heard of a more stupider thing. He’s your CEO, Bear, and he knows you work there. He’s obviously going to want ‘to catch up’ or whatever. There is no avoiding him. Can you handle that?”

What can he say? Aunt Betty is right. He can’t handle talking to Tim. Even seeing Tim felt like touching a live wire. He can’t deal with another episode. Mori doesn’t need him to be fucked up, Mori needs him to be the stable adult he promised the courts he was.

“You can’t, sweetheart,” she says softly, “you can’t handle it.”

There’s some shuffling on the other end of the phone.

“Bear,” Ty says gently, “I love you, man. You’re my brother. Jimmy loves you, Mama loves you, Aunt Betty loves you. But you gotta start thinking about therapy.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, “I shouldn’t’ve dragged you into this. I’m—”

Ty cuts him off with an exasperated huff, “It’s not about that Bear. I’ll keep talking to your hallucinations for as long as you need me too. Even when we’re seventy, I’ll do it for you. I don’t care about that. I care about you and I want you to be happy and healthy. I don’t want you to keep seeing Darla. I don’t want you to keep trying to scrub the blood off your hands.

“And I know you’ve been avoiding therapy ‘cause you don’t got the money and ‘cause talking about your problems is scary but it’s not just you anymore. You got Mori now. That custody claim is going through. You can’t just avoid things ‘cause they’re hard now. You work at Wayne now; that paycheck is more than enough to set a few dollars aside each month to save up for therapy. Hell, mental health probably comes with your medical benefits. Please, Bear. If you can’t get help for you, then do it for us, for Mori. Please stop making us watch you hurt.”

Bernard exhales shakily.

“I never wanna find you the way we did after the cult, Bear. I never wanna see you in the hospital bed like that again. Please don’t do that to us, please,” Ty whispers.

Unconsciously, his hand comes up to rub at the scar left behind from the sacrifice. It stretches along the length of his sternum, jagged and rough. On good days, he can pretend that it’s a scar from a heart surgery. He doesn’t have that many good days.

Bernard presses the heel of his palms into his eyes before using his hands to scrub at his face. He’s always so tired these days.

“Okay,” he says simply, “okay.”

“Okay?” Ty asks hopefully.

“Okay, you’re right. It’s not just me anymore. Mori deserves the best and I’m gonna give it to him. And I love Tim, I think I’ll always love Tim but he clearly doesn’t give a shit about me. So I gotta make my peace with it or I’ll go crazy.”

Ty whoops, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he chants.

“Bear, it’s still the middle of the workday,” Jimmy says, although he too, sounds happy. Auntie Bea and Betty are muttering about a feast, he thinks. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“Yeah, that’s if I’m not fired already,” he mutters.

“Hey!” Jimmy admonishes, “Optimism only, no pessimism.”

“Alright, alright. I gotta get back to work now. Thanks guys.”

“Of course, we’ll let you go now. Ma wants me to tell you that we’re having dinner at your place today.”

“Aunt Betty,” he whines, “I haven’t cleaned and you and Auntie Bea are just looking for a reason to spoil Mori.”

“Absolutely,” they say, unashamed, “he’s our only grandson. We have to spoil him.”

“Fine,” he sighs but he’s smiling. Fuck, he loves these people. God knows he wouldn’t have survived the past six years without them.

“Bye Bear,” they say before he hangs up, “Good luck on your first day!”

He cuts the phone and slides it back into his pocket. Turning on the tap, he splashes some cold water onto his face. Using his wet hands, he tries to rearrange his mussed up hair into something acceptable for an office job.

Time to face the music Darls, he tells her smiling face in the mirror. She gives him a thumbs up in return.

The walk back to his office feels like a death sentence. He’s fucked this up, he knows it. Freaking out over a small interaction with his CEO and then running away only to come back two hours later? It’s over, done for. Bernard takes comfort in the fact that at least the severance package will be nice.

Stepping into the office, immediately draws the eyes of his team members. Every step towards his team leader’s office feels nerve-wracking. Just before he enters, Esperanza, the team’s second in command, stops him.

“Whatever happened,” she says, “just explain it to him. Young-joon’s a reasonable man, he’s not gonna yell at you.”

Some of the tension leaves him and he nods. Knocking on the door, he enters. His team leader looks up and smiles.

“Ah, Bernard! Why don’t you take a seat for me?”

He crosses his wrists behind his back, “I’d rather stand, sir.”

His team leader looks confused, “‘Sir’? Just call me Young-joon like I told you.”

“Anyway, after you left, I took the liberty of going through your file to see if there was anything I missed. I hope that wasn’t overstepping my boundaries.”

“No s-, Young-joon. You’re fine.”

Young-joon sighs and pushes the file he was reading before Bernard came in forward. It’s his file.

“I’m going to say some statements,” he says, “and I want you to confirm whether it’s true or not. If any of these questions make you uncomfortable, just tell me okay? I’ll drop it immediately.”

Bernard nods.

“You went to Louis E. Grieves Memorial High School.”

“Yes.”

“Based on the dates you put in your file, you were there for the shooting.”

“...Yes. Junior year.”

“You know our CEO.”

“Yes,” he breathes out.

“How?”

He used to fall asleep on my shoulder during lunch and I would listen to him breathe. He’s got moles all over his face. Darls once connected them with a sharpie. His step-mom was so hot, I thought I’d spontaneously combust every time she smiled. HIs dad didn’t really like me and flirting with his wife didn’t help my case. The Drake condo had a crocheted flower blanket on the sofa that his mom had made during her pregnancy. He liked to skateboard but couldn’t roller-blade to save his life. I have all this love and nowhere to put it.

“It’s a little private,” he says instead.

“I’m only asking because we work quite closely with him. We see him often and if that makes you uncomfortable, then I can have you transferred to another team.”

His shoulders sag, “We went to Grieves together for one year. Our mutual friend died. It’s a little hard to look at him.”

“Jesus Christ.” Young-joon says, “Okay well the offer is still on the table, Bernard. Do you want to be transferred?”

“No, I like your team. I’d like to stay,” he says, firmly.

“Are you sure?” Youn-joon asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” and it’s like a switch had flipped. Gone is his serious team leader and in its place is the man he met this morning.

“If you plan on staying,” he says smiling, “then my primary recommendation is that you use the medical benefits the company gives you to find a therapist. If you need help, the infirmary here will walk you through it.”

Oh thank god it comes included with his medical, Ty will be overjoyed to hear that. But first, he has to ask Young-joon why he’s doing all this. Bernard knows his experience with authority figures is a little skewed towards the shitty side of the spectrum but even so, people usually aren’t so kind in his experience.

“Why are you doing this? Why didn’t you fire me? Why are you helping me?”

Young-joon chuckles, “Do you want to be fired?”

“No! But still, why are you helping me?”

Young-joon sighs and stands up. Walking around his desk, he stops right in front of Bernard. Young-joon puts a hand on his shoulder.

“This city takes a lot out of its people, believe me I know. And you were so young, when Gotham took her piece of you. It wasn’t fair of you to go through that. Just like it wasn’t fair to me and my wife when we got kidnapped as children. These kinds of things don’t go away. I still get worked up over zip-ties. My wife still has nightmares. All you can do is learn to live with it.

“You seem like a good kid with a good head on your shoulders. I’d hate to see all that potential go to waste ‘cause you kept getting trapped in your mind. I had a lot of help to get to where and who I am today. Consider this, me paying it forward. One day, I hope you can pay it forward too.”

His eyes feel suspiciously wet. “Thank you,” he chokes out, “thank you.”

Young-joon laughs, “There’s no need for the waterworks, Bernard. Now, pack up your things and go home. You’re in no state to analyze data today but I expect you here at 9AM sharp tomorrow, alright?”

Bernard mock salutes, “Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Bernard.”

Right before he exits, he turns around and calls out his team leader’s name.

“Young-joon,” Young-joon looks up confused, “you can call me Bear, by the way.”

A wide grin stretches across his team leader’s face, “Okay then. Goodbye Bear, see you tomorrow.”

Walking out of the office, it feels like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders. Esperanza takes one look at him and snorts.

“You just got Young-joon-ed, huh?”

His jaw drops, “He does that often enough you guys have a name for it?”

The other team members laugh, “Welcome to Data Analysis Team 1, kiddo. We look forward to working with you from now on.”

Smiling, he gathers his things and leaves after a few goodbyes. Once outside the building, the smile drops. It’s an hour-and-a-half bus ride from Wayne Tower to his house. The bus stop sits right in front of the tower too. Some new initiative by the mayor to promote the city moving towards green energy. Hey look, even rich people take the bus! What a fucking joke.

The tower warps the sunlight around it and he stares up at the top floor. Is Tim watching? Can Tim see him from up there? Does he care or was it just the shock of seeing someone he once knew this morning? Has Tim ever thought about him, about them? Or were they just moments in his life? Perpendicular lines, intersecting once and then never again.

I miss you, he thinks staring at the top floor, I miss you more than anything but I’ll walk into oncoming traffic before I ever reach for you again.

The bus pulls up next to him and he snags a seat in the back. Dropping his head onto the seat in front of him, he stares out the window. Darls smiles back at him in the window reflection, perpetually sixteen. He’s twenty-two now.

Fuckin’ hell Darls, he thinks wearily, we’re really in it now.

Darls places her hand against the glass, he leans his shoulder onto it. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel her warmth.

We’ll make it through, she says.

The bus rumbles forward and he lets the cracked streets of Gotham lull him to sleep. He’ll make it through.

A/N: chami! i hope you like it!!! i've never gifted a fic before, i don't really know how this works. and to everyone who read it, i hope you liked it too! please leave your thoughts in the reblogs or replies!!! i miss the days when td:r was coming out and we were all collectively freaking out. anyway when i said loosely based, i really did mean loosely. props to you guys if you can figure out the direct references to the drama. but this is a one-shot. i'm not gonna be writing anything else for this 'verse? au? (god i'm always so worried im using em dashes wrong)

if you have questions or you're confused by something i wrote, feel free to ask questions or send an ask or message. oh, and i know some people like know the exact wordcount. so, it's exactly 6,785 words long. nice number right?

also, please note that if you want to make art or a podfic or hell, even fanfiction of this, feel free to do so! i hope that's not too presumptuous or anything. idk i see fanfic writers make this disclaimer all the time, so i thought i'd do it to.

thank you for reading!

#god i'm exhausted #writing the latter end of a fic always feels like finishing a marathon #no more fics for like the next 6 months (<- me when i lie)#anyway big fan of the bear hallucinates darla club!#currently there's only one member (me) but you can change that #also favorite trope ever is when you see a regular dude and you're like 'what a nice normal dude' and then you talk to him for like #5 minutes and you're like '/oh./ this dude has something wrong with him'#also the tyrone/jimmy pairing? do you see my vision?#also big fan of the the shooting was worse than what you see in rr club!#it's just there was a city-wide gang war and all the gangs came to grieves to kill darla and you're telling me only she died???#i think way more people died. i think too many people died actually. i think the school had to do remote learning for all of tyrone's sr yr #cause the renovations were too much.#also just to clarify #the is hallucination!darla and there is the darls he sees all the time. no they are not the same to him. yes he is mentally ill.#also yes!! superheroes do exist in this world!!! i just didn't mention them.#also if we're being a little self-critical for a moment #(don't look at this part) i feel like i could've ended this at a way earlier point in the story but i had such a strong vision of what the #fic was supposed to be like that i just wrote everything #anyway lets start tagging #bernard dowd #tim drake #timbern #timber #dc #red robin tyrone #red robin jimmy

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