#I'M GOING TO NEED THERAPY AFTER THIS IS OVER
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archangeldyke-all · 7 hours ago
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ANGEEEEEEL DO A LITTLE FUCKER AND ISHA FIC AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 🫵🫵🫵
okay okay okay long awaited but let's do it finally ehheehehe
as always with these fics, don't ask me the logistics of how the pregnancy happened. it's yuri magic. have some fun.
men and minors dni
jinx is twenty when she decides to go to college. after a few years of taking care of herself-- through therapy, moving in with you and sevika, isha's good influence, and vi and ekko's support-- jinx finally felt ready to look to her future.
she got into a good school in piltover; full scholarship, because she's a fucking genius.
you don't worry about the workload overwhelming her, though she's decided to enroll in a dual degree program, studying chemistry and engineering at the same time.
you don't worry that her demons will catch up to her; she'll be living with cait and vi, and she'll be within walking distance of her therapist. plus, she's done a lot of good work for herself.
the only thing you worry about is isha.
though the girl is older now, around eight years old and much more used to you and sevika than she was when you first met, isha's favorite person in the entire world is still jinx. and the feeling is mutual. so, while jinx will spend her weeks with cait and vi up top, on weekends she'll come back to zaun to catch up with isha.
it's still a rough adjustment.
isha's just... lonely. you miss the giggles that used to fill your home-- isha entertained endlessly by her older sister's shenanigans. and despite all you and sevika have done to keep her occupied-- buying her new games and pets and books-- you can tell that isha's bored all alone.
"what if we had a baby?" sevika asks one night after you've turned off the lights and cuddled into her arms.
"another cat?" you mumble. sevika laughs.
"i was thinking a human baby, but we could get another cat if you want."
you sit up in bed, reaching out to flick a light on and stare down at your wife. "where the fuck is this coming from!?" you squeal.
sevika shrugs. "isha's lonely! we should give her a little sibling."
"wh-- like our own baby?! like one of us gets pregnant!?"
"well unless isha drags home a stray kid i don't see how else we'll get one." sevika chuckles.
you gawk at her. sevika smiles up at you. "s-sevika, we already have two to five children, depending on the day." you say.
sevika snorts. "ekko, cait and vi are ours only in spirit, love, they won't ever need us in the way jinx and isha do." she says. you pout. sevika snorts. "and jinx is all grown up, now." she reminds you.
tears well up in your eyes. "no she's not." you say, your pout worsening. sevika giggles and swipes your tears away.
"look; i know we said no kids when we started dating. but we said a lot of shit back then. remember when we thought we'd go hiking every saturday? we were crazy." sevika says. you giggle. "shit happened between then and now baby. life happened. deaths and marriage and adoptions and moves-- that kinda shit changes people. you changed me. and... we bought this big ass house for our family. might as well fill it up."
"well fuck, sevika, how many babies are you planning on giving me!?" you ask through a sob of happy tears. sevika laughs.
"as many as you'll let me." she says with a shrug.
you go to the doctor to talk about pregnancy the next week, only to find out that you're already a month into your first trimester.
"wh-- i'm-- but--" you sputter.
"she's already pregnant!?" sevika squeals.
the doctor laughs. "it would seem so. good timing."
sevika bursts into laughter and scoops you out of the doctor's paper covered seat, spinning you around her office and sobbing into your shoulder as you blink in shock.
"what the fuck?" you ask. sevika cackles.
on your drive home, you look over at your wife with a suspicious glare. "did you plan this?"
sevika laughs. "you think i'm that diabolical?"
"no, i just-- you decide you want a baby and boom, i'm magically already pregnant?!"
"i can probably smell it on you or somethin'-- my instincts could sense it. like how i can smell when you're ovulating."
you giggle. "that's probably how you knocked me up in the first place."
sevika grins. "fuck yeah it is. i did the math. i think it was the weekend we sent isha up to spend with the girls."
at the mention of your girls it hits you. you're about to have a baby. another one. your own-- one that you know from the first shit it takes.
you burst into tears, and sevika laughs. "there you go, i was waiting for that to happen."
"we're having a baby." you cry, scrambling to grab the hand she reaches across the console. "oh, janna, sev-- i don't know how to change diapers! all our other kids came to us potty trained!"
"i'll change all the diapers in the world, for you, love." sevika promises, kissing your knuckles. you laugh.
"you're such a liar."
isha's one smart little shit. you and sevika decide not to tell her until the second trimester, when it's less likely that you'll miscarry.
she figures it out within a week of you and sevika getting the news.
it could be the way sevika keeps touching your stomach, or the giddy kisses the pair of you keep exchanging when you think isha's not looking-- but something tips her off.
she sits you and sevika down one evening with a frown and her arms folded in front of her chest.
is there a baby in your belly? she signs. you sputter. sevika gasps. isha's suspicious glare melts into an excited smile. is there!? she asks with a gasp.
you burst into laughter and sevika shrugs. "we thought you might wanna be a big sister." isha grins, tears welling up in her eyes as she launches herself at you and sevika, laughing and crying.
i do. isha signs. i'm gonna be the best big sister ever. don't tell jinx. or violet.
you spend your pregnancy being waited on hand and foot by all your girls. vi, cait, and jinx all come to visit once or twice a week-- all three of them enchanted with your swollen stomach and always bringing baby supplies in tow.
isha makes a count-down to your due-date, bedazzles it and hangs it on the fridge so she can keep perfect track of how much longer she has to wait before meeting the baby.
isha's also started to call the baby her baby.
how many more doctors visits do you have before you have my baby? isha signs to you one afternoon as you wait in your doctor's office. you burst into laughter.
"your baby, huh?"
isha nods. i'm her sister! she signs, before gently reaching out and rubbing your stomach.
"what makes you think it's a girl?"
isha shrugs. most of your other babies are girls.
you cackle.
isha must be psychic, because your little girl comes into the world kicking and screaming in the middle of a family potluck.
it's horrible. violet passes out. surprisingly, ekko is the most helpful, giving everyone instructions and calling an ambulance for you while you wail on the living room floor.
isha's watching with a disgusted fascination the entire time, her lips curled in horror and shock, her eyes big and sparkling as she witnesses the miracle of birth.
powder and cait help keep you propped up-- both of them toweling up all your... fluids... while sevika holds your hand and kisses your head.
one baby, a ruined rug, and an ambulance ride to the hospital later, and your family finally gets to see you in better condition, and they get to meet your little girl under better circumstances.
"aweee." your four grown kids coo as they shove into the hospital room.
"hey, no shoving around the baby!" sevika whisper scolds.
isha pushes her way through all her older siblings, crawling up in sevika's lap to look down at her little sister.
she gasps in wonder. she looks like big mama. isha signs.
cait chuckles. "she does."
"what a little fucker, comin' out lookin' like the parent that did nothin..." vi teases. sevika scoffs and you giggle in agreement.
"she really is a little fucker. ruined our dinner." jinx huffs. "i was looking forward to that potroast, y'know."
isha giggles, pinching her fingers together, then flipping off the baby and pointing at her. little fucker.
you all burst into laughter. little fucker's silver eyes pop open, and she bursts into tears.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25
@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby
@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb
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torchickentacos · 28 days ago
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b-blushes · 1 year ago
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i am feeling very apprehensive about it due to feeling Not Well (chronic illness style) BUT tomorrow i'm gonna pump up the tyres on my bike and do 5 very gentle non-out-of-breath-making minutes on my turbo trainer inside.... that is not even 2 songs' length i can totally do that and there is no need to be so so scared! If i can do it, then huge yippee and i can work on trying to hit a once a week routine, in which i can gradually increase the duration and intensity over time, and if i CANNOT. well then i know that i am not doing good which is also useful info to have and to tell my dr when i go soon (: I CAN DO IT!!!
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punkrockisafulltimejob · 3 months ago
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I'm working on a project on my computer and vaping, this is the closest I've been to my normal pain level in days. I know it won't last, especially not when I'm trying to sleep later.
Trying to ignore the guilt of disappearing from work for three days, when the last time I did that it was my mental breakdown two years ago.
#it's not like then#not really#I mean it is and it isn't#my physical health was/is in a point of decline and the fear of pushing myself too hard became/is becoming too much#but I've grown so much in the last two years#I'm not gonna lie#sometimes I wish I had quit the work force back then#I obviously couldn't have predicted the sharp decline of my physical health over the course of this calendar year#but it happened#so the day to day question becomes now what?#now what do I do with myself/my life/my time/my energy/my independence/my god knows what else#nothing I am physically capable of doing is going to fulfill me and the things that fulfill me are now out of reach#so what fucking now?#I think this is it folks#I think it's time to start planning my exit strategy from the work force#and I don't know how the fuck I'm gonna do that when we literally just bought a condo#and I have therapy tomorrow too so I get to try and relay all this to my therapist in just half an hour lol#I don't regret dropping down to maintenance sessions#but sometimes you just need more time#tomorrow I'll get on the phone and be like ohmygodjoshitsbeensuchafuckingweek#ihadaflareupsobadicalledoutofatotaloffourdaysofworkandleftearlybythreehoursoneday#andnowimhavingcompletefearsaboutbeingsocompletelyincapacitatedthatillneverleavethehouseagain#and he'll be like well first of all BREATHE#second of all there's nothing indicating that this is unlike every other flare up that you've managed to fight through after a week plus#and then I'll be like butwhatifimstuckhomewithkaren24/7andshedrivesmebatshitwhenicantleaveonmyown?#and then he'll be like what did I just say about breathing?#but then he'll point out that the point of us moving is so we can get more space and be able to separate ourselves from her more#and then I'll cycle back to but she won't see reason and take the downstairs bedroom now instead of god knows how long down the line#trust me we do this every two weeks lol
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jewishbuckley · 6 months ago
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"was there a reason you didn't cancel this" honestly I thought I had so no there wasn't a reason but also if clients are going to have Your personal number and reach out to You about canceling (when they Should be reaching out via email per our cancelation policy) then You should be canceling the appt anyway imo. all the other trainers cancel their appointments AND add their appointments to the system 🤪
#noah.txt#also I do realize my annoyance is unwarranted but also I'm sosososo tired of this job#she's thinking about closing down for a month for renos and she's not going to pay anyone for that month#and she's not sure if she's going to set it up where we can file unemployment or if she's going to#make us be freelancers under the company name#also she booked an appt but didn't put it in the system and didnt Tell Me and someone put in a booking request for that day/time#and it's frustrating b/c the whole reason she wanted clients to be able to book via the online portal is to#make my job easier/more automated but it's not easier when I'm having to email 5 clients because she cant be fucked to learn the system#then I'm talking to a coworker about how my doctor said I need to get my stress down#and she has the AUDACITY to ask me if she's contributing to the stress#like... yeah you're like the primary stressor in my life because I got hired for an hourly position 2 years ago#yet you treat me like I'm a salary employee who is supposed to be on call#and yeah it's frustrating and stressful to feel like I can never fully relax b/c you might need something#and it's even more frustrating when the things she needs she'll call me about. I won't answer b/c I'm busy#then I'll call her back and she'll be like ''oh I looked for it after I got voicemail''#okay so you don't THINK to do a little investigating before calling me during my time off?#very funny to me that I've been in a therapy session talking about her and she will call me (I do not answer)#my job was not and is not to be a personal assistant yet that is the position I've been forced into#and quite frankly I do not get paid enough to deal with being a personal assistant to#an immature people pleasing 34 year old woman who lacks basic empathy and doesn't give a shit about her employees#like I wanted to like her! I want to like her! she's gay and Jewish! but she also stinks of white rich kid privilege#also she's having a baby with her wife and this is a baby she actively does not want and a baby they're having to fix their marriage#which is a very tough thing for me to watch from the sidelines#she also is always picking apart peoples appearances and shes also told me she would probably leave her wife if she grew her hair out#anyway there's a lot more on a personal and professional level but my break is over
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warningstandbygo · 11 months ago
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The great thing about being an Adult is that if you randomly get Extremely Overwhelmed by Existence, no one can stop you from going into your closet in your bedroom with your laptop, changing into a onesie, and sitting in the dark quiet enclosed space all by yourself (even though you're the only one here because your spouse isn't home from work yet).
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aceofnace · 1 year ago
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Bestie catch up on Nancy Drew so we can scream (in a bad way)
Well, Anonymous, I should've replied to this the night you sent it to me so we could've screamed together in the worst way. But I made the mistake of being lazy and not getting around to answering anything in my inbox right away (shoutout to the rest of you who sent me something, I will get to you too, I promise!), and now I've moved past wanting to scream and rip my hair out. Does that mean I'm happy now? Of course not. It just means I'm moving through the stages of grief at an impressive pace (yay me!).
So, initially, 4x12 did make me want to scream. And rip my hair out. Oh, and vomit. I allowed myself to get spoiled on twitter beforehand, and what I learned about the end of the episode delayed my viewing because I mentally could not bring myself to watch it. Earlier in the day, I was joking about a potential Nanstan kiss, but I didn't actually think it would happen. In this economy? In a Celine Geiger episode? I DON'T THINK SO! Yet it did happen. It fucking happened. In the penultimate episode. The last episode before we collect our Nace endgame. How the hell are we gonna bounce back from that? How the hell are they gonna have Nancy realistically go from starting to move on with Tristan to getting with Ace in forty minutes, when most of those minutes will be spent closing out other characters' storylines? Oh, man, when I say I was ticked off...
But now I've had time to calm down, to cool off, and just...learn to accept it. Accept whatever they're going to give me in the next episode. Because I still truly believe Nace will end up together. And that their endgame will be satisfying in at least an "oh, look! Pretty people are kissing!" kind of way. We'll get to see that amazing, unmatched chemistry one last time, and it will be spectacular, I'm sure. And then, after the credits roll, we can all go rush to AO3 to read and/or write some of the best damn Nace fan fiction the world has ever seen. Stories where Nace slow dance with each other and go on dates, where they investigate supernatural crimes together, where they move heaven and earth to protect each other, where they give each other kisses on the mouth and forehead and they hold hands and have sexy times and maybe even get engaged and married (and pop out some babies for people who like that trope). Oh, those stories are going to be glorious. And Nace will continue to live on in our hearts (for at least a little while, anyway), and we'll always get to think about how cool it would've been to see ANY of those fun, romantic moments played out on our screens.
This is such a sucky way to end one of my favorite ships of all time, but I guess we just need to remember how lucky we are that we're even getting any conclusion to their story at all, when so many other shows were cancelled this last year without ANY warning. I'll take a rushed endgame with only one tiny little Nace kiss shoehorned in at the end over their story potentially ending after 3x13 with them freshly cursed and Ace never knowing Nancy loved him. That would've been THE WORST.
Anyway, Anon, I hope you check back in with me after the finale, and I hope we can scream together in a good way. Not gonna hold my breath, but maybe, just maybe, we'll get lucky.
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townofcrosshollow · 2 years ago
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Idk man if you're constantly talking about your crushing loneliness and feelings of being ostracised and left out when you ostensibly have a bunch of friends around you then maybe the feelings of loneliness aren't the problem there
#i would always feel really empty and distant and 'act out' after our hangouts#and i always framed it as like 'i get the high when i'm around people and then i crash afterwards'#and didn't really consider that maybe sitting in a vc for 4 hours feeling left out while other people have fun is just soul sucking#it was always framed as my behaviour that was the problem. 'you did this and you did that.' so i just kinda internalized that#if i felt like shit it must be my fault. everybody knows i'm the one who causes problems so i'm just causing more problems#if i say that something made me uncomfortable and the response is 'i wont make accomodations and how dare you even ask' it must be my fault#idk. we filled out consent forms in the game i'm really not excited to play and i was reminded that nobody ever asked my consebt#and when i tried to advocate for myself and voice that i wasn't consenting it was treated like i was causing problems by trying to say that#and i saw that as a reasonable reaction at the time cause i had been so deeply convinced that i was broken and horrible#that if i was trying to revoke my consent or even just negotiate it then i was ruining everything for everybody else#that if i was uncomfortable with what was going on i needed to just shut up and live with it#i wish i had realized that and dropped out months ago. maybe that could have preserved some semblance of my relationships with those people#far too late for that now. i'm trying to accept that#and all that effort was wasted anyway#i tried to say once that i was putting in a massive amount of effort and i felt like nobody was recognizing that fact#and i still kind of feel that way#i put hours of mental energy into trying to be enough for people who kept demanding more from me and kept giving me less in return#did that do me any good or did it just cause me 3 months of grief and an empty bank account from therapy?#the problem is that i still wish things had turned out better even though i know i had no control over that#if i had kept advocating for myself it just would have been over far faster. i guess that might have spared me a bit of money#if i tried to talk about the problems it would have just been dismissed with some quick quippy therapy phrase amounting to 'not my fault'#we're already living in the universe where i put all my effort into changing in the ways i was told to change and look how well that went#idk. the attitude was never 'let's fix the problems.' it was always 'you need to fix it.' and then when i did it was#'now there's a new problem. fix that one too. and this one. and that one.'#and to do all that work for somebody and then be told they thought you never even cared about them. man it just stings#idk. it's in the past now. but i can't build new relationships. i'm trying and it's impossible#i try meeting new people and they all suck. i try strengthening relationships with old people and they all get too busy or leave.#the only reason i post these things on tumblr is cause i don't have anybody else to talk to about it#the only person i could talk to has their own shit going on. there really just isn't anybody else#personal
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hakumizu · 7 hours ago
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Coming on here again bc I don't wanna be moody on main
This is actually rather personal life heavy so- I'll be deleting cause I dun want to be just.. 'oh she's depressed again, great'
Sorry sorry haha \(_ _) don't even read it I just need to put it somewhere for now until I get over this the post is all over the place and back and forth and probably doesn't make sense- so even if someone reads dun feel like you have to say anything ♡
#mizu's messy life#“I feel like I only come on this blog to rant ab life” bc that's what I made it for- oh and the occasional hornii night#but like sometimes I wonder#if I wasn't here if I was suddenly gone would they realize just how much I do for the family?#I wish therapy wasn't so expensive#between every monthly payment I have I couldn't afford even two sessions a month#my mom is happy to pay for my little sister because 'she's having trouble coping with her autistic episodes'#but won't help me at all because 'I don't seem to be having trouble'#oh.. so if I stop masking how I really feel every day you'd deem me depressed enough to help a little#OR is it just that I'm the only kid who doesn't have autism so I'm not a priority#that's how I grew up- the 'glass child' as people say always helping to make her life easier but no recognition for it#everyone else has a harder time because they gave a hard time dealing with things bc of their autism#but of the 4 of us I'm the one who doesn't need anyone's help#I'm independent and I've BEEN independent since I was little#I do so much BECAUSE I'm independent but#if I don't get something done one day or if I mess up I get in trouble even if I'm doing something someone else was supposed to#so again#if I left would they finally notice?#would my mom finally wonder why I get so scared I get sick about going to the damn store after school hours are over because I don't#want to chance running into my ex? would she FINALLY realize that it's not just because he's my ex that I don't want to be near him?#because how am I supposed to bring something like that up?#if she accompanies me into every doctor visit how am I supposed to admit to him- yes I do feel unmotivated to LIVE#a lot lately#but it's okay I get through it ( *´・ω)/(;д; )#tbd
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savage-rhi · 7 days ago
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Magenta 👑
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vilevexedvixen · 14 days ago
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"One sided beef"
@sunshinecatie I tried explaining myself, you went "I'm sorry you're hurt" rather than actually apologising.
You willfully misrepresented my opinion that Ed wouldn't kill Jon over him and Susan consensually banging based on canon dialogue rather than buried fics and roped Dee into it instead of just agreeing to disagree until pushed to do so.
I reached out to understand what went wrong. Twice. The second time when I realised your reasons still did not make sense. You WERE upset, why? Wording. What wording? I did not put "I think" at the start or otherwise phrase my opinion as an AU, OC or headcanon.
You doubled down and kept making it about wording when I, like Lunar, say what I mean and the aggression you took from it (on the discord) was projection on your part. However, this post is what it looks like when I am actually angry at you.
Which became a snowball self-fullfilling prophecy because you kept claiming I was angry in the original interaction when I wasn't (which in itself was aggrevating). Eventually making me genuinely angry.
At this point, I:
a. Neither expect nor deserve forgiveness from you or anyone you consider a friend
b. Do not trust the discord to be a safe space for anyone except those you already consider a friend, which is why I left. Because it quickly turned out to not be a fun Rogues fandom chat, and instead Catie's Corner.
c. Do not trust the sincerity of anything you say, given how thoroughly you have repeatedly warped my very straightforward frustrations with your inability to live and let live different interpretatons of canon text (you were only ok with the idea of Ed's actions being confined to an AU, OC or headcanon; when discussion of canon text is very standard procedure in fandom and the act of doing so in itself is not reason for upset, but it proved to be for you, which is why I started to consider you a more controlling person - which likely does not reflect yourself generally).
If you were actually going to reach out to rekindle a nonexistent friendship, you would have. Don't pretend you actually give a shit when you have done nothing but deny, deflect and distance. That is an especially shallow attempt to gage sympathy instead of actually doing better. You don't care about "fixing things", all you care about is making this (me) go away so you don't have to deal with it.
I also do not expect you to agree with my perspective on things, given how prone you have proven to be to misinterpreting people.
So let me be clear.
I was not angry in the discord when all this started.
I am now very angry for how you refused to see that I was not originally angry and instead focussed entirely on how you disliked how you felt I was saying you were "wrong".
You are not "wrong".
I did not say you were "wrong".
My phrasing, to anyone but you, clearly did not even imply you were wrong. It was a disagreement / counterpoint sure, but nothing argumentative or insulting.
Let me repeat.
Me disaggreeing with you does not mean you are wrong!
Also! If people besides me DO for whatever reason think you are wrong, then THAT IS OK!
Disagreement is not invalidation.
Your focus on thinking I needed validation was honestly a bit perplexing.
I was baffled you freaked out over me thinking Ed wouldn't do X. Because whatever I think about Ed doesn't mean you need to think the same thing. I gave my reason for why I thought what I thought. That wasn't an argument. That was just making sure you understood why I thought that about Ed, even if you don't agree.
I vented my anger on my personal account because I did not want to bother people but still wanted to get out how I felt. I have virtually no following, so considered it basically posting into the void the same as any other rant post. I thought the block would keep the post local to my blog. Trying to rebuild this bridge while I still had this box of matches in my pocket would not end well. I would be holding in everything I grew to hate about you through gritted teeth. I do not think like you do, I need actual closure to move on and that is not possible here.
I was frustrated that at every point I attempted to talk to you, you never listened and we just came out further misunderstanding each other.
==>You are not at fault. <==
Silence doesn't feel like mending, or peace, just an indefinite continuation of whatever note was left on.
I also am not vague posting. I am very specifically posting about my exact feelings about fandom discourse and the ways I disagree with your attitude towards it. My non-fandom rants are not about you, your actions have however triggered (inappropriately, I must add) those non-fandom (trauma / mental health) rants.
No it is not your fault. No this is not an attempt at pity farming. It just happens sometimes. Sometimes things people do remind me of past abusers (and yes, your misunderstandings, mannerisms and thought patterns (in terms of what you share online) very closely resemble a narcissistic abuser of mine I have since cut ties with. Does that mean you are narcissistic or abusive? No. The similarities are likely entirely superficial, but it does explain (though not excuse) the misfire), and that exacerbates whatever more mild feelings were initially experienced into a full-blown episode. Again, no that is not your fault, it is just a thing that happens that I am working on and has genuinely improved from the shit show it was before starting medication.
I love the Rogues Podcast. I'm glad you enjoy it as much as I do. I have since 2015, I think. Long before I started social media or any community interaction. I have come to not love the community, which IS yours more than it is Dee's and Codot's, especially these days.
Asking questions is not the issue, it's how you lord yourself over others for being someone asking Dee and Codot questions that is the issue. Again, you are not listening.
For the sake of levity, and because it is how I feel:
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One measly interview does not grant you the authority you seem to think you have. You can reframe my anger however you wish, but that does not change the fact that at no point have you actually listened to a single thing I have been trying to tell you that others have perfectly understood without issue, making it clear it isn't my wording.
This is actually why I partially blamed your behaviour on you being American. Silly, I know. But in all the communities (with a mix of fans from across the globe) I have enjoyed interacting with, it has always been American fans that start shit and blame it on me / something innocuous I said. Always.
Granted, that was only one or two other times (once with a Legend of Korra fan and another with a far right Fallout fan) so my sample size is small but still.
Autistic people aren't all the same. It stands to reason that speech and mannerisms will generally differ across countries. What wording you need to feel unbothered is VERY specifically with added reassurance. In the discord I felt like I needed to follow up everything with something to go "You're valid (Catie)!" to keep you placated. It's not like I waltzed in there are picked the fights that ended up happening. I waltzed in their and started talking about Rogues and other stuff I like.
This is a side-tangent, but my feelings towards the ways we miscommunicated with each other are much like my mum's feelings towards most software she uses for work demanding the use of American spellings and American grammar even when set to "British English", which is clearly a completely superficial setting that doesn't actually adhere to British grammar and spelling.
So I lashed out in frustration. And rather than confront me yourself, you called upon Codot and the discord to do it for you, or at the very least so they would hear your version of the story first so they come into this with your story already in mind. Telling people you treat like goons to tell me to back off doesn't work. It just validates my unflattering view of you. Sorry.
I have tried to be as clear as possible in this post.
If it upsets you, fine.
The only thing I ask is that you please do not feel threatened or upset when people besides me discuss Rogues!Ed (and the Rogues podcast as a whole on a deeper level than just "Wow! I LOVE that character!", "That line was SO funny!", etc.). Not as an AU, OC or headcanon, but just how they see them in text. Otherwise this will happen all over again, just with someone else. And it will be your fault.
#i am autistic#it is not an excuse#Lunar's post honestly feels like a perfect extension of how I feel about this situation and you Catie#I feel like I have to stay silent around you#and walk on eggshells#I don't know what will set you off honestly#since it took just saying I wouldn't think Ed would do something for you to become upset the first time#then dramatically stormed off the server after I told you to stop bereting other server users who believe in death of the author#It's not like I was being hateful or hurtful#I honestly thought my posts would be hidden from you since I blocked you (and lunar in case you asked them to snoop for you)#I am allowed to however vent in my own bloody blog#I very specifically referred to things you said and your username#that isn't vague posting it's shower arguments#I posted them fully thinking the block would prevent you from seeing them#i am new to tumblr#Frankly I wish to swear worse than a sailor at you#at the same time#I wish I was financially able to fly over there and share my non-rogue passions with you#Like teaching you aerial and such#I guess as a way to apologise and talk candidly about things you are less likely to get upset about because they're unfamiliar#I've avoided going into detail about how profoundly you've upset me in case my anger didn't make that clear enough#But your initial attack and every attack to others or myself has made my heart beat through my chest and made me unable to sleep#I have gone out of my way to move on and do things to help#walks#touching grass (you and Lunar should also do this quite frankly)#talking therapy#going back on my anti-depressents after not needing them for a year#trying to focuss on other things#none of it helped so I needed to vent#In case you still think I'm trolling or doing this for fun I am not and never was
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mayspicer · 4 months ago
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Mmm nothing like a good old full blown panic attack, I haven't had one in years. This time at least I have access to medication to make it stop a lot faster, but I have 6 pills left for the next 2,5 months and the recent trends in my mental state are not looking good.
#majek says shit#very bad year and VERY BAD week#had a new friend over for a few days and they had and encounter with an absolute bed bug infestation a couple days earlier#took all precautions they could and were very serious about the whole thing but were paranoid#something bit my bf on the knee literally the day after she left and we're in overdrive now#I say it's a mosquito because that night there was one in the house that I couldn't cath#but he says thats not how his body reacts to mosquitoes. I'm keeping myself in denial to preserve the little mental health I have left#my body decided that the stress will manifest as itchy hives which is great#we moved everything to my room and I'm going insane#I need my own space to live with someone and we even slept separately for like 2 years because it's better for sleep quality#and now we sleep together which is pretty nice and nicer than I remembered but also I have literally no space mental or physical#I'm unemployed and he works from home#we moved the tv to watch movies in bed and everything is taking so much physical space. my personal space#the house is a mess and my life is a mess and everything seems hopeless#I'm having... anxiety attacks? first once a week now every day. I always thought they were like milder panic attacks#they kinda are. as in they are shorter. and actually about something not the undescribed “watch out!”#but severity is like a panic attack was compressed into a few seconds which feel like I'm standing on the edge of a void pulling me in#it's physical. I have to physically hold on to something or move my body vigorously as if I'm shuffling away#and it lasts literally seconds and I'm fine-ish#my psychiatrist heard about it happening once a week and wrote me a prescription (?) to go to psychiatric hospital#not to stay there but for intensive 5-6h daily three month therapy#and after that visit I started having these attacks daily I think because it got to me that I'm Not Ok#it all started when I started on my new antidepressants and they are helping... but I'm afraid they are breaking something else...#I'm scared that they are#but so much is happening#unemployed for a year. my industry is going to shit. lost my friend who made sure to give me a big package of toxic waste as a farewell gift#so I have no support from anyone who even remotely understands me#unemployment means rejection over and over because I'm trying...#and this week exhausted me socially on top of everything. and the bed bugs threat. it's good I at least have xanax when it gets like today#oh also I'm turning 30 in a month. this is going to be great for job opportunities I can feel it
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the-acid-pear · 6 months ago
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Phone buying update 👍 gonna have to take a fucking, moment LMAO. I have seen so many beautiful phones to buy. And I will. But I am not that fucking rich. I've been spending a lot of money lately. This is good for my health tho. I'm really excited to, actually do something with my bedroom.
One thing I kinda super want to buy despite being as expensive as a phone is this little... Phone shaped ceramic thing for rings. But I'd focus less on accessories for now more on the real thing.
I'm torn in which model to buy first. My options are that 500 model looking beauty or the baquelita model. I'm more leaning for the type 500 looking cutie. Bc he's stupid cheap. 7500 bc of a dent. There's a fixed one at 15k but do I look like a collectionist? I'm just a faggot. I don't discriminate.
I'm also gonna be wasting money tomorrow. Gotta buy silly things. (Pens, paper. Gonna start journaling).
Excited for my FETAP on Thursday tho. We opening the only fans boys /J
#luly talks#...unless?#i mean if its in the condition I'm expecting it of course I'll post tit or something just out of sheer hype#SIIIIIGH WHAT A BEAUTIFUL LIFE OF THE AUTISTIC GAY. better go eat dinner now. i usually am ready for bed at this hour. wont skip dinner tho.#it's... it's been a long day ok. I'm... sit with me chat let me wind down a little.#let me recap. i bought that phone. i really did. found a beautiful offer for a beautiful cheap phone in great condition. exciting#i went to therapy. it was a good sessh. it was silly#we just spoke. i mentioned that. glossed over the ptsd. it's ok. I'm better than that#i neglected my duties tonight. will embrace them after dinner. my... below my ribcage. both sides pinching me#my colon... yeowch...#anyway. good session. and i came back feeling good.#i tried to start journaling. failed. but such is life lmao#dad told me we'd go buy shit tomorrow. gonna press him to do so.#i got to write oc stuff w my boyfriend. very silly very fun. i need to draw Tuvy and Cottontail together someday. randy too. normal trip#i didnt do artfight! but that's ok bc i found out they're extending it#and i ! also made plans w my bffff. excited and happy for that too.#a lot happened today. even if i went to bed at 3 pm bc i was freezing my balls off. it was a great day.#i... am happy with it. even with my stupidly empty stomach#I ALSO GOT TO ANSWER MESSAGES. MESSAGES I'D NOT OPENED IN TOO LONG. THAT'S GREAT TOO#i got a lot done today. and i cooked food lol#tomorrow i gotta solo the doctor but thats ok
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cimeriansparrow · 8 months ago
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Sister's therapist called child protective services on my mother!!
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thistlekiss · 1 year ago
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dawnwriterimagines · 6 months ago
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The Guilty Plea
SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 x FEM!READER
Traitors Among Us (Part 1) and Innocents Among You (Part 2)
Verdict Due (Part 4) Clear Skies (Part 5)
Summary: As you're discharged from the infirmary, under watchful eye, you head to Laswell to talk on the rest of your now ruined military career. Of course, you're forced to confront your team as it happens, the last people on earth you'd like to see.
If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?
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---
Running your fingers along the raised, pink scar across you cheek, the feeling of it...it really looked terrible. A part of you thought it would disappear, hoped it would, but it didn't. It just became severely more noticeable. Looking at this, you knew you'd always have to think of it. You'd sport this reminder for the rest of your life.
Looking away from it, you find your own tired eyes in the mirror, you haven't been sleeping well. Or at all. You can't remember the last time you got 4 hours, let alone 8. Dark circles still surrounded them but at least the bruising and the swelling had gone down.
You couldn't recognize yourself. Not really.
This woman looked so exhausted, so frail and so goddamn angry. It was accurate, it was how you felt. All of it. So, you supposed that the mirror's reflection was the truth, this was you indeed.
"If you need another day or two, no one will ask questions."
You glance over towards your psychologist, your fucking therapist, a nice little 'gift' sent over by the bureau to check in on your mental state after your ordeal. Glaring at him through the reflection of your mirror, he sighs, putting down his pen that slaps against his notepad, "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."
"I'm going to Laswell." Ignoring his statement, you speak. "I'm ready. I'll pack up. Get back to base. Vera had me discharged from the infirmary. I can start ov--"
"Vera?"
"My nurse. You met her," you continued, annoyance spiking at the interruption. Your wrist brace squeaking quietly under the pressure of your fist tightening beneath the table.
"Right..."
"Do you listen to a word I say outside of...my 'trauma'?" You wonder, bluntly.
Your psychologist blinks, surprised, before clearing his throat, appalled. "If you feel I can be more attentive to your state of well-being throughout our process, than by all means--"
"Oh, so 'no'?" you lean back into your seat, a strained laugh leaving you. His lips press together and you continue before he can find the words. "Because whenever I mention leaving this fucking team, you either adjust our schedule for another two weeks or suggest hypnotic therapy, as if I need anyone else digging around to fuck up my mental state."
"I never meant to imply--"
"Oh, you implied it," you interrupted, gritting your teeth. "I know what I want. And I want off Task Force 141."
He taps at the leather of his notebook. "Scars heal, just remember that, Ms. (L/n). The reminders of your experience shouldn't have to haunt you."
"It's not the scars, I've had my share way before this," you admitted, rising to your feet. You exhale deeply that tells to the effort of it, the steel gear hinges along your leg braces shift with your change of position. Still getting use to them. "It's the person."
"Has she changed, you think?" the psychologist begins to write, getting somewhere.
"She doesn't exist anymore."
Finally, placing the mirror down and onto the side table, you pushed off of the table, rolling your IV pole along with you. Passing the chair your psychologist sits on, he closes his notebook with a frustrated huff, looking over his shoulder. "Session over for you already, Ms. (L/n)?" he sighs. "We've still got the hour."
"I'm done," you take the knob in your hand. Turning.
In more ways than one.
"You understand that, informing your captain on your leave is required of you. Have you spoken to any of them, in the last few weeks?" he spoke up, quickly. "I'm sure giving them a space to open up, share from their view--"
"Why should I care--"
"--will give you better understanding, better clarity of the situation they were in--
Appalled. "What the fuck?" Jamming the door closed with a loud, shuttering thud, you whip around. "IT'S NOT ABOUT THEM!" you could just rip your hair out. "Who--who says that to someone?!"
Your psychologist sits there, eyes wide in confusion. "What--"
"Christ, can you hear me? Can you--can you see me? I've got metal plates in my spine, braces holding my knees in place and nerve damage that'll never heal! Who gives a fuck about them!" your skin feels red hot, your face twisted in rage. "I gave my life! My life to this! And then I'm tortured, I'm threatened, drugged and beaten by my own team, my f--my family for eight fucking years..."
You continue with a heavy chest. "And I'm supposed to invite them for dinner to talk and listen them bitch and moan about why they thought it was necessary to beat me to death for two weeks?! Fuck you!" you spat. "I don't owe them anything!"
"That's not what I was trying to say, Ms. (L/N). I apologize, I overstepped. Come sit down--"
"Of course you meant it," you interrupted, mock humor. "Don't be a pussy, own up to it. Revel in your truth. Be tter yet--" you snatch a journal from the cabinet. Tossing it his way. "Make a note of it."
Turning the knob, you leave the room with a slam of the metal door.
---
You were officially famous. On the base, you were now a legend.
A story that would be mentioned and told at lunch for months. Probably years.
First, you were a rat. Next, you were innocent. This was the most gossip any of those in service had ever seen in their years of service.
An interesting reminder to those in service that you weren't safe off duty either.
You learned a few days ago that there was an update put into the interrogational unit, something about how to properly go about dissecting evidence and being on the lookout for enemy spies in the militia.
You guessed you had been told about it in an effort to be appeased by the thought that the head of control paid attention to anything beyond their own noses for once. But, you had little to no faith in a system that's nearly killed you on and off the field by now, so it didn't matter.
You doubted the new rules would be followed though, there was a plethora of things they'd done to you in that cell that were both illegal and unsanctioned. Most of all, that were expected towards an enemy, a prisoner of war at best, and not a fellow marine.
You arrive at the housing quarters, swiping your key card, pulling the handle and entering the wing. Immediately, you're greeted by a dozen eyes, conversations stopping short and clothes ruffling to silence, suddenly whispers fill the space and eyes turn away.
"Oh, god, it's her..." says one man in the far corner.
"Shut the fuck up, man!" came a harsh whisper back.
"I didn't know it was that bad..."
All those eyes on you, makes you pause in your step, looking around at all of your fellow soldiers, the men and women you've served with for years. Many you recognized, ate with, fought beside that turned their backs to you now. Out of respect? Out of distaste, morale, nerves, pity, it all didn't matter. It all felt the same.
The wheels attached to your IV pole suddenly sounded much too loud on the polished flooring, as you walked down the hall as fast as you were able to.
Breathing out deeply, you get to an elevator, pushing on the button, once, twice, three times, just open goddamn it.
With a ding, the metal doors open, and suddenly you're aware that people could be in the elevator, they could be in this elevator, he could be in this elevator. Your eyes flicker down to the floor, your grip on the pole of your iv tightens, your shoulders stiffen, waiting for a blow that will never come.
You stand there as the doors open up, the small space empty, the metal walls reflect only her and a streak of lighting from the ceiling.
Looking up slowly, finally taking a breath, before sliding the iv up and onto the elevator, following it as you press your floor number along the way.
The ride up is fast, a little rumble as it stops, and then the doors open. Faster than you were prepared for.
Peeking out down the hallway, luckily no one to bump into, which you were thankful for. But, it didn't make this hall any less haunting. You'd been cornered in this same hall, you could recall being hauled out of the room after the solid handle of a knife hits your temple.
You don't go down fast enough, whipping around as you stumble to take the wrist of your attacker, mostly for balance, it's Price. In shock, you're unprepared as Johnny's arm encircle your neck, locking you into position as you both stumble backwards onto the floor. He blocks your airways, hushing you harshly as you struggle, feet kicking out and your vision blurring as your team surrounds you. Your family.
That was quite the headache to wakeup with afterwards.
You hadn't quite remembered until now. Being back served as a hell of a kickstart to your memory.
Just a few more reasons to get the fuck off of 141.
Getting off the elevators, the metal doors sliding closed behind you, you make your way down the hall. The polished flooring creates a subtle squeak through the wheels of your iv pole, your hand absently running over the fading stitches along your side.
Passing the shadows of your tortured memory, the doorway of the office was closed, locked.
You pass Kyle's room.
Johnny's.
Finally, you rush up to the next room on the left, grabbing the handle, before beginning to twist, but then you're yanking your hand back as if the metal had burned you. Your back ramming into the back wall, catching yourself, this wasn't your room.
It was Simon's.
You'd spent hours, days, in that room. More than your own.
Why wouldn't you? You were about to get married to the man. You had more in this room than you had in yours.
Sharp breaths leave you, shivering in your effort to keep yourself together, your head goes back into the wall, swallowing down the ache in your chest.
You wait, muscles tensed and your body pressing back into the wall, hoping it'd absorb you if that door opens. Listening for every sound, any pin drop, even an exhale from beyond that doorway. Luckily, Simon seemed to be out for the day.
Hurriedly, nearly running, you steady yourself against the wall as you rush down to the corner of the hallway, finally finding your room.
Turning the handle, it's not locked, it's broken. It opens with ease.
Entering the room slowly, pushing the doorway aside, the crackle of glass beneath your boots as you step forwards, clothes and picture frames laying scattered.
The mattress flipped and ripped open, springs and cotton cut from it. Your wall of metals and certificates, from acts of bravery and mementos of valor, discarded, later you'd find them in the trash, one with a bullet lodged into the gold.
Sniffling as you leaned down, picking a specific frame off the ground, the only one that hadn't been broken. Laying along the ruined rug, with no care for the glass digging through your jeans, you stare at the still shot of your family.
The only family you had outside of Task Force 141, your father and his sister, military brats themselves, until their retirement. Your mother had passed, or just up and left, days after your 5th birthday, you weren't completely sure, the story kept changing every year. But, these two were the only family you've ever known, ever had, until you joined the military, following in their footsteps.
They'd been so proud when you arrived back after your first assignment, in truth you were heavily traumatized, but seeing them, you just had to smile. Having a family that understood the harsh toll on the line of a trooper, now a lieutenant, it was always easier to bring your troubles to them. But, they were also military nuts so "suck it up" was also a quick go to answer from your aunt, while your father was the smoother talker.
They had met Simon, loved him, his rank, his love for you, his seriousness. They trusted him completely with your heart.
So, when he called them, after the evidence leaked...
They believed him.
"What're you talking about?" You took the handle of the chair in your grip, easing you down into it as your legs do weak at what you were hearing. "I didn't...I didn't do it, Dad."
"Do you know how humiliating and disappointing--how it felt to hear him say that to me, hm?" he says, static crackles on the reciever. "My daughter...my own flesh and blood...working with terrorists--"
"I'm not working with anyone! Are you-" you huff out a breath of disbelief. "Are you even listening to me? I've never betrayed the code. How can you think that way of me?"
For a moment, he's silent. "Alright, then," he began. "Than, what'd you do? huh?"
"What--what..."
"Oh, come on, (Y/n)!" your father yells. "What did you do?! What could they possibly have had on you that made you the most likely target? You had to have had done something, been somewhere, were with somebody you weren't supposed to be with! They didn't just get that information from anywhere."
"What the fuck--" Your expression twists with frustration and misery, running your hand through your hair, pulling at it. "I've sacrificed every part of myself for this job, for this team, what do I have to gain from throwing that all away? They send me everywhere, places you've never heard of, places you'll never hear about and people you'll never have to meet, because of me! Why would you just believe Simon? Why couldn't you just wait to talk to me?!"
Hearing your father scoff at your words was painful. "What reason do I have not to believe him? He knows you, maybe even better than any of us. Besides, he was going to be my son in law--"
"I'm your daughter! Fuck Simon, what about me? You'd believe him instead?"
He sighs. "Listen, you're upsetting Cass. We didn't expect your call. I gotta make this brief..."
"You're upset?" pulling at your hair, sucking in sharply. "I'm the one who's permanently fucking altered here. What do either of you have to be upset about?!"
"Watch your fucking mouth!" he seethes. The anger in his voice isn't new, but the way he spits it at you is. "You did this to yourself, I didn't. Maybe that's what your nightmares were about, am I right? Your guilt?"
Wiping the streaks of tears that had fallen down your face, lips quivering and chest aching with sobs you frustratedly shoved down. "Why don't you believe me?"
"I don't deserve the disgrace that will come with you as my kin, I've lived my part of this war. No daughter of mine should even be in this fucking position," your father spat, disgusted into the receiver. Suddenly, he was the cruel, bitter old man your mother had always known him to be, you wished she had stayed to at least remind you of that. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt as much. "You should be ashamed of yourself, but at least you got yourself out it. The least you could do for us."
"Well--what does that mean?" you spoke, quietly.
"Don't call again..."
"Dad, no--" you break this time, a sob escaping you.
"Me and your Aunt Cass..."
"Daddy please, don't do this--"
"..We've decided to cut ties. We're not taking any heat from this, you're on your own," he finishes, clearing his throat, waiting a moment, listening to the pleads and cries of his only daughter, his once pride. "You take care of yourself. Goodbye, kid."
"Why can't you just believe me? Why?!" you cried.
"Don't come to the house."
"No, no,--" the line goes dead. And staring down at your phone, his caller id going blank and the call disconnecting.
Your phone all of a sudden feels heavy, the device and your hand falling down to your thigh, before the phone slips out of your grip and onto the floor. You sit there silently, until your tears drop up and even after.
Staring at the photo now was haunting in its own way, it was just another painful reminder.
Using the bed frame to stand to your feet, your grip on the frame is painful as you squeeze it, the glass cracks audibly.
"Bonnie..."
Whipping around at the sound of John MacTavish's voice, you back up a few steps at the sight of him, your back hitting the edge of your desk.
He reaches out as you stumble, before his fingers curl back into his palm as you find your balance, his hands receding back to his sides. He doesn't enter the room, just lingering just beyond the doorway, his eyes flickering around the room, guiltily.
"I didn't know--we didn't know you were out," he speaks quietly, as opposed prideful personality that translated into his voice usually.
You say nothing.
In the dark, your eyes are wide and your shoulders are tensed up, he can see the glint of your leg braces, the iv pole at the side, the scar beneath your eye. You looked terrified to see him.
"We were coming back to clean up today, just got back from...from a mission..." he stutters on his words, shifting his feet.
"It's been a week."
His lips press together hearing your voice. "I know..." Johnny glances around at the room he'd let those officers destroy, it hadn't been them, but they might as well had done it. "I know...we just...didn't know it was so bad."
"Really?" your voice is mockingly sweet, drawing out the word. "You didn't know? Well look..." you hold up your family photo, the light in the hallway catching on the glass. "You missed one."
Your hand dropping, the heavy frame comes down just as fast, ramming into the ground, the glass practically exploding on impact.
Johnny flinches, the photo of your family...He looks back to you, surprised. "Bonnie..."
Snatching the next closest thing from your desk, a ceramic cup. "Oh, wow, can't believe you guys missed this one," you chuck it into the wall. It breaks on impact, the remains scatter along the flipped mattress and onto the floor. "That used to be my favorite mug by the way."
The Scotsman worriedly steps forwards, 'Lass, I'm sorry--"
"FUCK YOU!" you spat, coming into the light. You're sure you look deranged, and you didn't care. You could've wrapped your hands around his throat, killed him right on the floor and you wouldn't have blinked. "It doesn't mean anything! 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', over and over and over again! As if you shouldn't be! Your apologies mean fuck all."
"I know...I know," he breathes. "But, I've gotta say it anyway, bonnie. I should've believed you, there was no reason not to. I know that now. I just--"
"Believe me!" you cut him off with a yell. "Trust me! Fucking 'HELP ME'!" you screamed with the same fever as your days in the interrogation room, that terrible cell, the cold, the burn and pain. "I cried it all to you, to all of you, and nobody came. Nobody came for me," you breathe in sharply. "It doesn't matter what you should've done. You didn't do it!"
Johnny's eyes are red, he opens his mouth, closes it and then swallows down whatever chokes him up as he looks at you. "I should've came for you. I wish I did. I wanted to, Bonnie..." he steps forwards, and you recede back away from him, your eyes narrowed with violence. "I'll never forgive myself for not listening to you. For not coming to help you. For laying a hand on you. I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I'm sorry..."
I'll never forgive myself... "That makes two of us," you assured.
Johnny's eyes widen, before they close, his guilt ever consuming. He can't help but understand, to respect your decision, to know things can never be ok again. "(Y/n)...."
Grabbing hold of the nearest thing, a pencil cup, you hurl it at Johnny. He doesn't put his hands up, flinching as it hits him, the metal clinking against his kevlar, eyes closing then opening, he stands still. "I don't forgive. I don't accept your apology. I don't fucking care about it!" with each sentence you throw something else his way, a broken frame, the trash bin, a pillow, the CD player.
His hand has to come up for the knife you unsheathe, a memento from one of your missions, it's rusted, ancient probably. But, you hadn't given it up to a museum or to pawn, you had nearly died on this mission, saving Johnny ironically. You had to keep it.
Seeing the weapon, his defensive position is instinctive but his hands drop just as fast, he understands, you need this. You deserve this. "If you need to..." he speaks. Your eyes flicker up to him, away from the knife. "If you need to, I get it..."
And you need to. You really fucking do.
Your grip on the knife is dangerously hard, it hurts.
Looking at Johnny, he'd been your brother in more than a few ways on and off the field, he had been your comfort, your friend, your family. You had bled with him, held onto him as he carried you from the battlefield, joked, laughed, screamed and cried. You've loved him for years.
He'd had a rough few nights you could see that. He was quieter, reserved. Almost as terrified to see you, as you had been of him.
And you could kill him right now and never bat an eye.
And so, throwing that knife was so fucking easy.
Johnny's eyes close as you do just that, fists clenching and teeth biting down on his tongue to prepare for the pain.
The ancient weapon whiz's through the air, the sound is sharp and he knows it will cut through him like butter.
The thud rings in the room, and Johnny's eyes blow open wide, holding his breath as he collapses to his knees, before turning to you.
You dig into the pile of clothes that had been cast aside, a pair of sneakers and a new shirt. You don't look at him a single time as you take it all, stuffing them in a bag, and leaving the room, passing him completely, a limp in your step.
Johnny releases a pained breath, tears finally leaving him as he looks up, the knife lodged into the frame of the doorway, just barely missing him. The sleeve of his uniform ripped open.
He sits there in the quiet, destroyed room. A testimony to the relationship he's destroyed between you.
Part 4!! OUT NOW
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