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insomniac4000 · 8 months ago

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If you Loved Me- A ChrisMD Fic

From my Wattpad

Sometimes if you love someone you have to let them go, you never understood that phrase until it came a point in your relationship with Chris that it was obvious it was no longer going to work. His channel was keeping him busier and busier and flights to the mainland were happening more frequently, it was only a matter of time until the question came up but you knew you couldn't go with him.

"But I've found a great flat, it's on the ground floor it has two bedrooms your mum can stay," Chris pleaded as he looked into your eyes, they were brimming with tears, this wasn't a journey you could go on. Your mother had been ill for as long as you could remember and she was only getting worse, degenerative diseases did that but she could live for another twenty years with round the clock care or she could die tomorrow, you couldn't leave her and couldn't ask her to leave her home. All the specialist equipment was set up for her here, she had a sister who would help, she had the carers she knew and recognised.

"You say it like it's easy. She can't get on a flight you know that." Your mum's muscle disease had now rendered her bed bound, she had been for six months now. There was no way to get her to the main island even she wanted to.

"We can find a way, boat? I'll pay for a private ambulance and then..." You cut him off, with your eyes flooded with tears you hugged Chris tightly before painstakingly pulling away, your heart ached, more than it had ever done before, more than when your dad left when you were ten. He couldn't hack it anymore, it had only been you and your mum since and it had to stay that way she needed you.

"Chris. This is your dream, not mine. I need to stay here I'm sorry," you whispered. Chris gasped sharply knowing what you were doing but wanted to fight it every step of the way. You had been together since you were fifteen, you were twenty four now these kind of romances were so few and far between.

"My dream is being with you."

"Don't. You've let me hold you back for this long, you need to go and I need to stay here. I love you but we're at a crossroads now and we've got different paths." You had always felt guilty every time Chris ended a shoot early or came back from the mainland early because there was an emergency with your mum. You couldn't do that to him anymore.

"Please don't do this," Chris whispered his eyed now spilling with tears, he grabbed your arms tightly but not to hurt you as he went to kiss you. You turned your head away and shook it, knowing if you kissed him you wouldn't be able to let him go and you had to. Instead you placed a kiss on his cheek and told him you loved him and you were proud of him for following his dreams. You turn turned on his heel and left his house, leaving a very heartbroken man standing in the doorway to his room.

Of course Chris did go, him being able to collaborate more only made his channel grew. In fact he ended up moving in with a couple of other content creators George Clarke and Arthur Hill with yours and Chris's old school friend Arthur Frederick not far away. The four collaborated a lot, along with some other people and whenever you got time you watched some of their videos. You tried to make a point not to watch him a lot, you still loved him and as much as this is what he needed to do it was hard to hear jokes about all the dates he went on.

The truth was Chris went on so many dates because he was desperately trying to find someone but no one matched up to you, every single woman was measured to you and none of them made the cut, he told himself he just had to keep looking.

He was currently making a video with Arthur, George, Harry and Theo when Arthur who was on his phone like usual gasped.

"Chris, Chris I think you need to come and see this," Arthur bellowed as loud as he could in his usually soft voice.

"Arthur I don't care about chess," Chris moaned as he dropped the football by his feet.

"Chris please." Arthur looked so serious that Chris couldn't help but run over, he looked at the screen and his face dropped when he saw a message from Arthur's mum saying that your mum had passed away. Chris got his phone out of his pocket and saw a similar message from his mum, with the additional info that the funeral would be Friday.

"What do I do?" Chris asked.

"What's happened?" Harry enquired, walking over to the Jersey pair.

"Y/N's mum's died." Arthur announced sadly, he then turned his attention back to the small man who was running his hands through his hair. "I think you need to go."

"You're right." Chris nodded, that smart little nerd was always right. Harry then placed an arm round his friend, along with Arthur he was the other person who knew how much that girl meant to him through his time visiting Chris and doing videos in Jersey.

Back in Jersey you were coping but only on the surface. The funeral arrangements were keeping you busy enough to stop yourself from losing it completely, to an observer you were doing very well getting your head down and organising everything. The truth was your mum had her wishes laid out years ago so you knew what to do. People who knew you a bit more noticed how quiet you were, Chris's mum came over with a cup of tea and a cake from your favourite bakery plus some home made pasta bake so you didn't have to worry about cooking. She was always sweet to you, even after the breakup if she saw you round the island she'd always stop for a quick chat, making a point to not mention her son as she knew you were hurting too.

It was the day before the funeral and you sat there in your living room, it was yours now but you didn't want it you just wanted her back. The doorbell went and you sighed before getting up from the cream sofa walking to the door, assuming it was someone checking in on you, your aunt or some more flowers you opened it not caring you were still in your PJ's at two o clock in the afternoon. There on the other side of the door was the only other person you had wanted to see again apart from your mum. You hated yourself for thinking about how good he looked, his hair was now natural and curly and he had sprouted now facial hair, it suited him. Completely forgetting you two hadn't spoken in two years you broke down into tears and fell into his open arms. He wrapped them around you as tightly as he could without hurting placing his head on yours as you sobbed into his shoulder.

"Shhh it's okay. I'm here now." Chris soothed, his voice sounded like angels singing it had been so long since you had heard it not being through a screen. Chris had arrived in Jersey that morning, he caught up with his mum who had told him the how and when's, suggesting that she could really do with a friend to speak to as her mum's health had worsened so much since Chris moved that you spent all of your time caring for her and most people your age had moved on with their own lives. He held you there for a few minutes until you calmed down and the cries turned to small sobs.

"Did you want a cup of tea?" Chris asked, you nodded only realising you had barely drunk anything that day, you weren't taking proper care of yourself, it was too easy to forget to eat, or drink, or change you looked down at your attire.

"Please. Sorry for the state of me."

"You never need to apologise for anything. Ever." Chris's words gave you some relief. Him letting you know that he wasn't mad at you for everything is all you ever wanted to know.

"Place hasn't changed much," Chris mused when the pair of you were sipping on your tea, he even bought out a pack of biscuits from one of the cupboards.

"Dunno what I'm going to do with it now, or with my life." The house belonged to your grandparents who, knowing their daughter was ill left it to her and she now in turn had left it to her daughter. All you have known for years is looking after your mum, you had a job in a book shop but it was part time, the owner knew you and your mother and was very understanding to your situation giving you time off and flexible hours. You would have gone to university but couldn't leave your mum, you put your life on hold for her which was why you wouldn't let Chris do the same for you. It took everything in Chris's power not to say to come back with him, now wasn't the time you needed him to be there and he was.

He sat next to you at the funeral, held your hand he looked up at you encouraging you to go on as you read the eulogy. He had his arm around you as you watched the coffin get lowered for the final time. He stayed in your spare room for three nights, making you breakfast every morning and dinner every evening until he had to go back to film.

"There is no pressure but it wanted a break you can come and see me," Chris offered before he left. You nodded and did think about it seriously, he called and messaged you every day to check in on you and after a month of you wallowing you decided to take him up on the offer messaging him back 'I think I'm ready for that little holiday.'

"Chris, there's another girl at the door for you!" Arthur Hill bellowed from the front door, George smacked the back of his head. In his conversations with Chris the past few weeks he knew you were different.

"I thought he was picking you up at the airport, he's just filming with..." George started to explain when Arthur and Chris came into view.

"It's so nice to see you again," Arthur smiled before bringing you into a hug.

"I got an earlier flight," you smiled at Chris and almost fling yourself into his arms, they felt so safe to be in.

"I feel like a right knob now making you lug that thing around across London."

"Oh it was no bother." You'd take anything to see Chris again sooner.

"So how long are you around for?" ArthurTV asked when you were all sat around the sofas with pizza later on that evening.

"I don't know, whenever I get fed up I guess, I just needed a break," you explained and Arthur nodded sadly. The expression on his face was the same look everyone else gave you, sadness, concern and pity. The only person who didn't look at you like that was Chris, he only had care in his eyes.

You had been to London a handful of times before but there was so much you wanted to see and Chris took you to everything. You laughed together, you cried together but you had realised how much this break was needed and how much better it made you feel but it got you thinking, was it the break or was it Chris? You stayed for three weeks but eventually life needs dealing with.

"I need to make sure the house is still standing at least," you explained to Chris as he watched you pack your bags.

"You can always come back whenever you want. Have my key! I'll get another one cut," Chris suggested and you couldn't help but laugh at his almost childlike optimism.

"You know I sit there in that house and I hate it. It's nothing but bad memories. It's her house, not mine and I just sit there and think about her, watching her deteriorate, thinking about all of the things I missed out on because I stayed."

"Like us?" Chris said softly. Up until now neither of them had bought up their past but Chris couldn't hold it in any longer, these past few weeks had taught him he wasn't prepared to let her go again, there was nothing stopping them this time.

"I had to," you reminded him and yourself. You still stand by what you did, it was the right thing to do at the time.

"I know. You're grieving I'm not going to be an arsehole and jump on you when you're down but. I never stopped loving you." Chris walked to you and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, it was something he often did before he kissed you and he did, it was very short but incredibly tender.

"I love you too." You whispered bringing him in for another kiss. Guess what they said was also true, absence really did make the heart grow fonder.

#chrismd #chris dixon #chrismd x reader #chrismd fic

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louiisaa · 3 months ago

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HEARTSTOPPER SEASON 3 SPOILERS 🚨🚨

also tw for all of the sensitive topics this season covered

okay i watched all of heartstopper yesterday and i have thoughts

my first thought is that it was absolutely heartbreaking and nearly made me full on sob on too many occasions

the way they handled charlie's ed and nicks support of that was really good. it was done in a way that was respectful but didn't sugarcoat it. like it was realistic and not just disrespectful to people who have gone through that

one thing i did find was that the pacing was a bit weird. i think everything moved too fast. it might just be because i binged it all in one go but i found that they needed more episodes to fit everything in. there were so many storylines that got pushed to the side that i think deserved more attention. imogen definitely deserved way more screen time and more attention to her discovery story. i know they had the conversations with sahar in the tent and at new years but i found the conversation between her and nick in the hotel room wasn't very impactful. darcy definitely needed explaining better. i felt it was kind of like if you weren't paying attention full attention you wouldn't know that they hadn't gone back to they're mum, or even that they were non binary. the storyline of her abusive household was setup so much in season 2 and not really payed much attention to in season 3.

i think tori's character was perfect this season. you as the audience can tell she's definitely not okay but the people in her life don't pick up on it, which is exactly what her life is like for most of solitare. and the fact that you can tell charlie is her BEST friend but she isn't charlie's best friend. charlie's found his people for life but apart from michael towards the end, she has no one apart from charlie.

i'm not gonna lie i was disappointed by the fight. i wanted to properly see it because as charlie said that argument made them closer but to us it's like that new connection just magically happened because we didn't really see the fight. and because they're relationship so far has been positive it needed a more realistic lens and that fight being bigger really would've done that i think.

ive literally got so many thoughts it's gonna take me years to type them all out so ill do another post at some point. i'm gonna rewatch the whole thing slower and see if i still think it progresses too fast.

overall i genuinly LOVED this season so much and found it so heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time. episode four and five were my favourites i think. i'm also the same age as charlie and most of my best friends are a year above me so it hit very close to home in that aspect. my school doesn't even have a sixth form so they all left me to SUFFER on my own it's not okay. anyway that is not what this post is about i loved heartstopper guys

edit: I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT ISAAC

i really love how him and charlie's friendship has developed and his coming out moment was really beautiful. i've literally never seen aro/ace representation in anything so it was really nice to see. it felt like last season he was barely part of the group and him finally talking about how he felt so left out was really powerful

#heartstopper #charlie spring #nick nelson #alice oseman #heartstopper season 3

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etherealspacejelly · 7 months ago

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Hey dad,

Are you out to your parents? I can never come out to mine, which creates a lot of questioning for my future.

If you are, how did you do it (I’m presuming you have parents)?

Thanks from a closeted new follower of your brilliant posts :)

I am out to my parents! I came out about 5 years ago now, it was my anniversary recently actually!

i came out to my dad first. i was going to his house for a different reason, but i decided to do it then because. idk. i just felt ready i guess. i sat down with him and he could tell something was up, so he asked me if there was anything i wanted to talk about and i said yes. and i told him i was nonbinary and aroace, and that i wanted to use they/them pronouns and go by a shortened version of my birth name (this was before i had decided on robin and he/they). he asked me what those things meant, with genuine curiosity because he hadnt heard of them before, so i explained it to him and he said ok! thats fine. and he said he loved me and supported me no matter what, and that it would be a bit hypocritical for him not to since he is queer himself (which i was not aware of at the time! he just assumed i knew??? hes pansexual lmao)

he did a bunch of research in his own time, watching videos by nonbinary youtubers and stuff like that. he learned how important it is for parents to facilitate social transition, so he took me to get my first gender affirming haircut a few weeks later. he also bought me my first binder, and took me shopping in the mens section for the first time. he also took me to my first pride that year! he has remained super supportive, calling me his son at work, greeting me with "hey my boy!" every time he sees me or calls me on the phone, has barely ever slipped up on my pronouns. basically, my dads a fucking legend lmao

i think a few weeks to a couple months after i told my dad, i came out to my mum. that went. not great. she was like. ok. and immediately went back to her phone. my heart just sank. she still gets my pronouns wrong 5 years later, she says often that i will always be her daughter. she even said that trans people are just mentally ill. she loves jkr and often uses terf talking points. but, she Says she supports me and isnt transphobic, and she Tries to use my pronouns so. yk. that makes everything ok /s

she also thinks that ill change my mind about being aroace when i find 'the right person'. i never told her about the queer platonic relationship i was in because i knew she would just use that against me. i had an entire year long relationship, and to this day she has no idea.

the thing is, my mum had always been a self professed supporter of the lgbtq. when i was a kid it was always "when you grow up and get a boyfriend or girlfriend" or "when you get married to your husband or wife", so i thought it would be a slam dunk. i thought, theres no way she wont accept me. but here we are. meanwhile, i had been quite nervous about telling my dad! i didnt know how he was going to react.

so, you never really know how these things will go. this isnt me telling you to come out, by the way! if you feel unsafe or unready then please dont. do whats right for you first and foremost. but, sometimes people will surprise you i guess, and not always for the better.

you will find your people. family is about unconditional love and acceptance, and if your parents arent providing that for you then they're not doing their damn jobs properly.

im always here if you need a dad, it would be my honour.

I love you, and I'm proud of you, kiddo :)

#inbox #ask #inbox open #ethereal space dad

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themultifandomgal · 2 years ago

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Tommy Shelby- A Mothers Passing

Trigger Warning- illnesses, death

I was 19 years old when my father passed away during the war. Mother never found love again and so never remarried. I however found love after stepping foot into the Garrison that night wanting to drink myself into forgetting the last 4 years. That's where I saw him, Tommy Shelby still in his uniform. I knew the Shelby brothers only being a few years older than John, but I had never seen any of them in more than a friendly way. That is until that night.

Mine and Tommys relationship was a whirlwind having got pregnant before marriage we married rather quickly. Now I'm 27, our son 3 and we are more in love than we ever thought was possible.

"Mrs Shelby, I'm sorry to bother you, but there is a woman on the phone asking for you"

"Oh thank you Mary" I get up off the floor with Charlie and head to the telephone

"Hello, Mrs Shelby speaking"

"Mrs Shelby, I'm nurse Lee"

"Nurse?" I frown feeling confused "I haven't been to the doctors since being present"

"My apologies, I'm your mothers nurse"

"My mother? what's wrong?"

"Unfortunately your mother has been ill for some time now"

"Ill? why wasn't I informed of any of this?"

"Your mothers wishes"

"What is it?" I sigh feeling tears start to prick my eyes

"Pneumonia I'm afraid. Mrs Shelby is there any chance you could come and visit?" Tommy walks in and immediately I turn around so he can't see my sad face

"Yes of course. I'll be there as soon as I can" I put the phone down and wipe the tears that have escaped

"Who was that love?" Tommy asks wrapping his arms around me

"My mums nurse. She's ill Tom, really ill. I need to go and see her"

"Ok. I'll drive you, we'll drop Charlie off at Polly's first" nodding my head Tommy gets Charlie ready.

Nervously I enter my childhood house holding on to Tommys hand. We walk up the stairs and enter her bedroom

"Ah Mrs Shelby your here. Mabel YN's here" the nurse tells mum who looks as pale as a ghost

"Hi mum"

"Hello dear" mum croaks instantly breaking my heart. I sit in the chair next to her taking her hand

"Mum you remember Tommy"

"Of course I do. Where's my grandson?" she asks

"He's with Polly. I didn't know if I should bring him or not" I tell mum truthfully

"I'd like to see him before I die"

"No mum don't..." I shake my head not wanting to hear any of this

"YN. I'm dying. I'm not getting any better. So please before I die I want to see my grandson"

"Ok" I breath out.

The following day Tommy and I take Charlie to see my mum one last time and then 3 days later I get a phone call to tell my that she had passed away peacefully in her sleep.

We just had the funeral 2 days ago now I'm sat in the doctors office being told that I'm pregnant again

"Ok Mrs Shelby, just like last time take things easy and make sure Mr Shelby is helping around the house"

"We have maids now so things will be easier" I tell the doctor

"Ok good. I'll see you in 3 weeks for a follow up appointment and the see if we can hear babies heart"

"Ok. Thank you" I stand up taking my bag and coat with me. I walk outside and see Tommy leaning on the wall with a cigarette while watching Charlie playing with a puppy "hey" I say walking up to him

"So was I right?" he asks with a smirk

"Yes. You were right" I reluctantly tell him. He takes my hand and we walk over to Charlie "come on Charlie time to go"

"Ok bye bye" Charlie kisses the puppy's head then takes my hand "the nice lady let me stroke her puppy. His name is whiskey"

"Did your dad name it by any chance"

"No mummy don't be silly" the little boy laughs.

Arriving home Charlie runs off to the play room while Tommy and I walk over to his office

"If the baby is a girl, I want to name her Anna Mabel" Tommy looks at me wide eyed

"You want to name her after our mothers?" I nod my head in reply "well I think it's a beautiful idea, but why my mothers name first?"

"Because i wouldn't let you name Charlie Tommy, or Arthur, or John, or..."

"Ok ok I get it. Thank you love" tommy walks over to me and pulls me into his arms

"I love you Tom"

"And I love you" I smile up at him.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x wife #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x oc

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sporadicnickelbakeryshoe · 2 years ago

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From committer of a crime

A woman who has had a powerful presence in my life, who inspired me to persevere, overcome obstacles, and not back down? That person is my Mum. She is the most kind-hearted and fair human in the whole world. Our relationship has not always been so easy because I think paradoxically we have so much, even too much, in common. She had a tough childhood and marriage. My father is not a bad person but addictions have significantly impacted his personality and attitude to life. My childhood was neither an easy one, but my Mum did everything she could for me. Each time I failed, I knew I would receive constructive criticism from her. But I also knew that she would protect me from this world. I frequently heard from her ‘I will love you despite everything’. And she did. She taught me how not to be afraid but to be determined. I suppose all my achievements and even that I am still alive are thanks to her. She taught me how to combine kindness and strength (I did not believe that these two traits could be combined in one person). She was a very beautiful woman who could shine despite the bleak situation in her life, especially in our house. Her blond hair and appearance reminded me of Marylin Monroe…. her personality too, so it isn’t a surprise that Marylin Monroe still is my idol.

Let’s come back to my life. I was 19, I suppose when my Dad woke me up with the phrase ‘Your Mum is dying’. She had lost consciousness. Since that time I have hated mornings. Sometimes I would rather never wake up again.

My Mum had breast cancer which she didn’t want to treat. She refused to go to the hospital. She wanted to die. I couldn’t bear that. I started my investigation of hospitals that can perform urgent operations. There were none available because of COVID-19 measures. My Dad was too helpless to take responsibility so I realized that if not me then who? That evening we called the ambulance. I suppose if we hadn’t she would have not suffered so much.

The long days and nights began. I abandoned my studies (fortunately teachers understood and gave me the opportunity to pass exams later), and spent all the time next to my Mum’s hospital bed. I had never been responsible for somebody ill. It was new for me. I had time to think and consider my life. My attitude to Mum. I was and still am a rude person who can say tough things to important people. I blame myself for not being humble and understanding. I am a monster. My Mum always wanted to help me with my life and support but she did not receive the same attitude from me. Knowing she had been ill (despite the fact she hadn’t wanted to be cured) I had let her make all household chores by herself, I had not offered my help. Knowing that she had been suffering enormous pain, I had not taken responsibility for any physical work which should have been done. When she had been suffering mentally when she had yelled at me…I had not recognized these signs as a call for help but had become in a defensive position making her suffer more.

One day I came back home to rest for a couple of hours. When I returned back to the hospital I saw my Mum deadly pale. I immediately forced the nurse to do a blood analysis. Mum was taken to the resuscitation ward. I was not allowed here so I returned home. That was one time I saw my Dad crying and believed that he could change (spoiler: he cannot). It was May. Everything was green. It was raining. I was standing under that rain. I was not crying but praying. The sun appeared. I thought it was a good sign.

Eventually, in a couple of weeks, my Mum was taken to a big city for an operation. She was so tiny after that. Then I realized how much she suffered. I saw her tiny body in her tiny clothes. She was so weak. I believe it was that time when I saw her inner nature…. So vulnerable and fragile. It was different from what everybody used to see. She was always a strong woman who knew what she wanted, and how to achieve her aim. Now she needed protection. And I couldn't give her that. My Dad was drinking again so I couldn't rely on his help.

Then she started recovering. Long courses of chemotherapy began. She lost all of her fabulous hair. I do not know whether she wanted to survive. My Mom always had been the kind of person who wants to help everyone, to make other people’s lives easier. With this illness, she started realizing that no one cares about her. That she always had not been ‘enough’. Not enough supportive, not enough kind, not enough beautiful. She frequently said that she feels guilty about something she even did not know.

I committed a crime. My Dad had gone to Poland to earn money for Mum’s treatment and I… I went to another city to continue my studies. I left her alone. How could I? I even could shout at her through the phone if she told me things I didn’t want to hear. Oh my goddess what kind of a bitch I was.

Some months passed and I received an offer to go to Lithuania as an exchange student. My Mum was enormously happy about that. I was doubting whether I should go. She persuaded me that everything will be okay. That was the first time I went somewhere abroad. I was so excited about the plane because I hadn’t ever traveled by plane. Finally, I reached the dormitory where I was supposed to live. It was night. Thanks to my incompetent teacher who was responsible for these studies I hadn’t been aware of the requirement to fill in the form to be able to live in the dormitory. My Mum was constantly writing to me because she was worrying of course. I was rude. Taking into consideration that I did not fill in the form, I was forced to spend the night in the dormitory hall. There were sofas where I tried to sleep, and it was very cold.

In the morning when a manager of the dormitory came and let me in the room, I was crying. I saw a fabulous view from the windows and the dawn. I recorded a video for my Mum and sent it to her. She started calling me but I was not able to connect to the dormitory Wi-Fi and didn’t have a Lithuanian sim card so the connection was horrible. I was crying and in despair. I let my emotions fall on my Mum. She was soothing me to the fullest extent. She was so supportive and I was a monster.

After a couple of hours of sleep, I tried to call her again. The connection was worse. I was so irritated. And again she received my negative emotions. I was supposed to attend the excursion so I started preparing for it. I sent a message to her saying sorry for my behavior. She answered that everything will be okay and I shouldn’t blame myself for that. ‘It is just an aggressive chemotherapy’ was the last answer I received. I had a wonderful time on the excursion and after coming back to the dormitory I received a call from my aunt that Mum is in hospital. Her condition became worse and Mum was taken to the resuscitation ward. I wrote her another message with apologies. This message was never read. I was praying again.

With no more news, I started preparing to go to bed. Then I received another call from my brother. He said that my Mum passed away three hours ago. The spectrum of my emotions is difficult to describe. During all the years she was ill I prayed before sleep for her health. Everything was in vain. I was furious. Why didn’t she call? Why didn’t she say goodbye to me? Why was I so rude to her? Why was I such a monster? I almost didn’t sleep that night. I didn’t even attend the farewell ceremony because I would be disqualified from the program. Everybody persuaded me that she wanted me to stay there. Probably such a way of things is better for me. Thanks to her I knew I must live. I must be as strong as she was. This was my first time abroad, and I lost the most vital person in my life.

P.S. I don’t know what others write here. I will just write some thoughts with the hope that you, the person who is reading this, will hear. Keep your emotions. Keep your rude words. Remember that each conversation can be the last one. Do not repeat my mistakes. Say words of love to people who you love. Memento mori.

#personalessay #short essay #essay #narrating

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firespirited · 7 months ago

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I've been sick with some sort of fluey thing that sets off migraines all week. Did manage to meet the therapist: she's fantastic, no nonsense, up to date science, specializes in autism in women and trauma from interpersonal abuse. Unfortunately I'm going to need that therapist more than ever.

Mum had no intention of doing group therapy, has no interest in fixing our relationship, she's got this idea that it would somehow be taking sides even though she regularly has long whispered conversations with me about how to deal with a situation with sis. I also really upset her by describing dad as having cluster B personality disorders that made him cruel, she read the first sentence of my psych homework and decided she was out.

Because in her mind cruelty requires intent and dad was just being pre-emptively nasty because he'd had a paranoia where he felt we'd been mean. She's retconned him as bpd??? He didn't get paranoias until I was nearly 20. He wasn't borderline, he was a bully. It was calculated and calm not often spontaneous. He had just as many calm collected bouts of psychological violence as he did rages. And oh odd thing right? he never damaged a relationship with a man or employer even if he resented them privately. He never ever once implied he was suicidal to anyone else when that was his go to move. He had depressions and manias, he was rapid cycling. He also managed to keep the damage to his immediate family (except for that school incident) and constantly quitting jobs. There are times when the cluster B was the real issue and other times when he was just selfish and enjoyed his power over others. I know that's an awful thing to say but I've known a lot of cluster B folks who are trying to not break everything and I knew dad well: he blurred the lines between deliberate long term choices and his pathology. His hostility towards my and mum's existence as ill people was obvious to my doctor and every carer we had. My sister's cptsd is mostly from the damage he did with gossip and how she made herself compliant at home.

I can't say this to mum she's in rose tinted glasses mode about dad. The psych definitely noticed when she said some really weird hurtful stuff to me. I did get very serious that she was not to talk about dad around sis. To not even think about it because it could reset her entire recovery.

I have spent the past 25 days neck deep in bpd type cptsd symptoms, learning every trigger point and rebuilding a relationship with sis where she has no idea that I'm just not sharing secrets and fears. I'm still her rock. She's just not my anchor anymore. We're actually doing pretty well now. I can trace the intense anxieties back to last may when she brought a stray dog home and began obsessing about adopting a cat (she's allergic). I can perform the correct emotions on cue instead of relying on just words. Every time she loses trust I reassure and rebuild. She's been able to open up about what she couldn't stand about 'us' (it's not us, she needs a fully quiet space not just a bedroom in a busy flat) etc.

It's sad because every worst fear I outlined in the psych homework came true over the past few days. I have to hope it's some kind of stress phase. Maybe she's got the same flu thing as me and it's making her feel vulnerable and cranky.

There are very good odds she was super spooked at the idea of therapy, goodness knows she doesn't like talking about feelings. The idea that she might one day have to explain her wild family to someone else terrifies her.

Now that I know she's not ok, I need to keep my distance for a while and build myself up so I can handle sis' next crisis alone.

#saf #personal

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shrinkthisviolet · 7 months ago

Note

1, 2, 10, 12, 16, 21 for the roots asks for Morgan :)

1. How many living parents does your OC have? If they're alive, where are they now and what’s your OC’s relationship with them? If they’re dead, how did they die?

Ooh well right now, 1 with Tina. Though later it'll be 2, because of Henry (and probably later 3, when she comes to think of Harry as a father figure too).

Obviously, her relationship with Tina is very strong—naturally there’s tension at times, especially after Tina finds out about Eowells, but that’s bound to happen. Spoilers perhaps, but they come back from this tension stronger.

For Henry, it’ll be a bit of a bumpy ride given Morgan’s…difficult history with the concept of fatherhood. Calling Henry “Barry’s dad” is far easier than thinking of him as “stepdad”, but…she’ll get there. For Harry, she will probably never actually call him Dad, nor will he ever call her any form of “daughter” to her face, though they’ll probably refer to each other as such when talking to others. (More details about both of these relationships are TBD)

Harrison and Tess…well, Morgan’s relationship with them is ofc complicated. They’re her parents, but she doesn’t remember anything about them—she was too young when they died. Everything she knows about them is secondhand from Tina (or to a lesser extent Eowells*), or via what she can glean from Harry…though the latter is so E2-specific that it’s still lacking. So really, they’re her parents in a much more distant sense…and she barely even feels like she has the right to mourn them 🥺 more easily referring to them as “Aunt Tina/Mum’s friends” than “my parents”

*about this, btw…he does something quite underhanded that I can’t say too much about. You will hate him more than you thought possible when I reveal it.

2. What was your OC’s first job? Do they still work that job (or in that field), or do they do something else now?

Barista at Jitters! Then in s2, barista at Starbucks. Though once she transfers to CCU in s3 and sophomore year of college gets going, she decides to stay unemployed for a while 😅 juggling college and superhero duties (especially since Organic Chem is one of her classes during s3) is hard enough

10. What’s the first significant injury your OC remembers getting? Did it leave any scars?

Hmm maybe the time she fell off a Razor scooter when she was in kindergarten and got a scrape above her eyebrow. It was a pretty bad scrape, and she had to get stitches, though luckily it healed up fairly quickly.

One of the good memories she has of Eowells is him taking the day off work to spend with her in the hospital, and letting her curl up with him in bed. It was one of the few truly good days she had with him…and as with those good days, it was a rarity undone as soon as the next day

(He took her to the doctor that morning to make sure her stitches had dissolved and that her ill-effects were mild, then dropped her at school around noon before going off to work himself. And with that, they were right back to normal)

12. Does your OC’s family practice any faith or religion? Does your OC still practice? Why or why not?

She’s not really religious tbh, neither were her parents. She celebrates Christmas, but not in a super religious sense, more in a commercial sense (caveat: I do think Christmas is to a degree religious in nature, which is why I don’t celebrate it, but I do think people often do celebrate it secularly. Such is the case for Morgan)

Cut for length (16 and 21 are below):

16. What does your OC’s childhood bedroom look like?

Ooh well she has two: one in Tina's house for the most formative 6 years of her life (7-13, though she does also use it from ages 17-18 (and maybe beyond that)...possibly? Depends on if she dorms at CCU), and one at Eowells's mansion/house that she uses from 1-7 and then 13-16.

Her room at Eowells's house is fairly plain—Eowells had it painted a tactful pastel yellow, though when she was 13, in the early days of moving back in, she managed to convince him to paint it pastel blue instead (her superhero costume may be dark green, but blue is her favorite color). She doesn't have much decoration on her walls, no posters or anything of the like, though she did convince him to let her hang a whiteboard calendar on her wall. She still uses it. She also always keeps her room very neat, because Eowells gets tetchy when even a hair of it is out of place. He also doesn't see much point in knick-knacks or books that he seems "frivolous", so she learns quickly to keep those hidden

That aforementioned calendar was actually a gift from Tina, when she was 12. And her room at Tina's is much more lived-in, much more of "organized chaos"—knicknacks littering her dressing table, her clothes not always neatly folded, books scattered on every surface...though she always remembers to make her bed. And her four walls are alternating dark blue and dark green, the way she likes it 💞

21. If your OC could speak to their childhood self, what would they say?

“You are enough. You are more than enough, just as you are. And you don’t have to settle for him, you deserve better. One day, you will have so much better, I promise.”

oc ask game!

Taglist (send an ask or DM to be added or removed):

@arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @raith-way @vexic929 @ironverseocs

@thechaoticfanartist @goldheartedchaoticdisaster @negative-speedforce @starstruckpurpledragon @angst-is-love-angst-is-life

#oc ask game #oc: morgan wells #morgan & thawne #brotp: this city could use a sentry #morgan wells au #the flash #that eyebrow scrape did happen to me fr 😅 though that scrape was ON/IN my eyebrow #i still have the scar from the stitches #(and i was indeed in kindergarten. and yes it was a razor scooter #why any adult would let a 5-year-old ride that is beyond me. but my kindergarten teacher didn’t see an issue with it for some reason 💀)

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blindedbythedarkness · 9 months ago

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My mind is so full right now. I feel more emotions than I can name thoughts, but there's just so much going on. When I was younger, my dad used to tell me that anxiety is just intolerance of uncertainty. Well, I have a hell of a lot of uncertainty right now and I get why people don't tolerate it, it's fucking uncomfortable.

At university, I have to make a decision which could mean giving up my dreams of being a doctor. Either that, or say nothing about being caused likely permanent harm by the institutions that were supposed to protect me. The real kicker is, I daren't even say more than that in case I post the wrong thing and fuck it all up both ways. Who can I even speak to about it? No one in my life has any useful advice for me because people just don't have to make massive fucking decisions like this on the regular. It all feels so heavy and maybe I'm an adult now, but I still feel like a kid with no clue what to do.

I also feel like I'm losing my parents. Both, at the same time. Though actually I think I've already lost my dad. He gave into the crowds last year and dropped all Covid precautions to "live his life". He's always been fixated on living at least to the age of his mother, which gives him 8 more years. His current lifestyle means if nothing changes, I doubt he'll make it there, at least without serious health issues. He wouldn't give a fuck if I told him though. It's all too hypothetical and he's too cynical that he doesn't want to live longer anyway. I don't think he can even conceive of how it is to live with serious chronic illness, he probably thinks he's built different and could just push through. I'm a living, breathing example of the damage Covid could do, but despite sharing half my genes, it could never happen to him. Even if it did, he'd just try harder than me.

I lie awake for hours at night, my mind involuntarily churning out essays and letters to the people in my life who's life choices are breaking my heart fragment by fragment. I beg my brain to shut up and let me rest, knowing I'll never bother to send them, but I just can't sleep again until its down on paper.

To my dad, I imagine writing him letters explaining how I know he's never prioritized me in his life, but perhaps he could reconsider. I want to tell him how he's killing me on the inside more each day with his decisions. I want to beg him to reconsider, because I want him to last long enough to see me married and meet my children; they'll already be lacking two grandparents, please don't make it one more. I want to threaten him, tell him when his brain is bursting with the fucked up proteins that mean he can't think or remember who I am anymore, all because he gave up and gave in to SARS2, it will be me who chooses his care home. Care homes which will lack even more staff, and will be even more expensive as the early onset dementia epidemic explodes a decade from now. I want to ask him if it was all for nothing, me rebuilding our relationship? Because if he carries on like this, I'll have no choice but to build walls to protect myself from the anticipatory grief. Do I really mean so little to him? He's choosing a few short years of the old-normal instead of me having a future with him in it.

I've shared similar thoughts with my mum and she seemed to understand my point of view, yet I'm still afraid she'll follow him down the same path. She says she's trying to balance being safe and living her life, and I understand no one can be perfect. But the world is growing more hostile and she's faced opposition to masking at work. She's never had as many balls as me, so I worry eventually she'll crack. She went on holiday recently, and there's not a single mask in her pictures. I know she likes to take it off for photos, but how can I know she ever wore it at all. If I question her, she scolds me for not trusting her, as if I haven't had an endless conveyor of friends and family willing to trade my life for brunch these past 4 years- of course I have trust issues. It also seems that she made a new friend on holiday, a friend that could become more. I have no issue with that, it'd be good for her. But what if they don't understand Covid? What if she caves to keep them in her life and trades safety for companionship?

I just feel so lost, and I have so many questions with answers I'm afraid to find out. But without them, I'm in some sort of emotional purgatory. I do have friends who I know would care. But one would never understand. Another is busy seeing family. Another is too new for me to drop all this on. And the one who would understand it most has her own horrors to contend with right now and I don't want to add to her stress. Meanwhile, my therapist is on holiday for a month.

Plus, and its small by comparison, I've spent the last two months in new-pet limbo. We've kept rats for the last 5 years and they've really been amazing for company, joy and amusement throughout this current dystopia. But we lost our last one two months ago and now an empty cage sits right in the middle of our living room. I've spent so much time and energy researching breeders and joining new lists, but there's been so many unanswered emails and painfully slow waits for responses. It would just be nice to know when this one nice thing will be back in my life.

How I feel right now is like no simple depression that, looking back, is what I had in my late teens. This is years of acute-on-chronic compounded trauma and discrimination and loss of even the most basic human need- safety. I'm numb and yet my whole chest hurts. I find myself wishing it would change, in either direction. I have fleeting thoughts of overdose on antidepressants or cutting myself, just to fortify the numbness or finally break through the walls around my heart. But I won't. Instead, I'll do just what I've been doing for four fucking years- enduring. Tolerating. Staying alive and not self-destructing. But inside, I'm crumbling more than ever.

Oh please, dear God, let things improve soon. There has to be a light at the end of this and I'm so desperate to live to see it.

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inamanicpixiedream · 1 year ago

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2023

I've answered these questions on various platforms for over ten years now, I think? That's wild. There's better questions out there but tradition is tradition.

1. What did you do this year that you’d never done before?

Put on a mother-fucking Fringe show. Bought a Lego advent calendar. Got divorced lol.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions?

I don't really make them any more, but I feel like I set out what I wanted to do.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yeah, a few of my good friends from work.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No.

5. What cities/states/countries did you visit?

My partner finally moved here from Brisbane, but I did a couple of final trips there and we went back for a wedding. I did a whirlwind trip to Melbourne and while it was fun I found out I am not the kind of person who thrives on flying somewhere for less than 24 hours.

6. What would you like to have next year that you lacked this year?

Money. God, I hate this is the answer, but my rent got super jacked up and my partner hasn't found a job here yet and everything is find but it's tight as fuck and I hate working so goddamn hard and feeling like I have nothing to show for it.

7. What date(s) from this year will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

February my show was performed. April my partner moved here. Two of the biggest days of my life honestly.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

The show was huge. I wrote and performed something I had written, with my own financial backing and organisation and steam, and it's something I have always wanted to do. And I just did it. I then started making more and more moves to make this my life, like asking to go part-time at work and starting my podcast again and putting together a Patreon.

9. What was your biggest failure?

I actually can't think of anything which is kind of wild. After leaving my husband last year I really grabbed a hold of my agency in my life. It's been pretty incredible.

10. What other hardships did you face?

I had a lot to grieve and process about the separation and I am very thankful to my therapist for all the work she did there.

My current relationship is wonderful but being two adults coming together is going to have more baggage and things to work through. It's so absolutely worth it.

11. Did you suffer illness or injury?

In July I was diagnosed with polycystic-ovary syndrome, which is yet another nail in the coffin of my ever being able to have children.

Along with that came a further investigation into my blood sugar and I was told I had pre-diabetes. This scared the shit out of me, cause I was really fucking close. I was also terrified about doing the work to try and reverse it, because I didn't want to get back into disordered eating territory. But I had incredible help from a dietician and I read really tempered, reasonable information, and I managed to make small, sustainable changes and turn that entire shit around. Within six months my levels were completely back to normal and all my other negative health markers were reversed. Honestly, this was another huge achievement.

12. What was the best thing you bought?

I just bought a new guitar that has become a huge joy in my life. I also got into beading when I went to see the Eras tour movie to make bracelets and I've kept it up and I absolutely love it as a hobby. Otherwise, I didn't really make a lot of big purchases. Contributing financially to helping my boyfriend move was pretty great to get him here.

13. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

I am often resisting the urge to come on here and write a very gushy post about my boyfriend, but god he is great. I wrote last year that I highly recommend falling in love in your thirties. My mum commented at Christmas that it's clear how happy he makes me, but it's beyond happy - he makes me calm. Even when things are hard and messy he is such a solid presence in my life, and he is so, so bloody nice to me, and I keep waiting for it to stop feeling like a crush and exciting every time I see him but it's been almost two years and that just has never gone away. He is so ridiculously supportive of me and has worked so hard on himself and I'm so proud of him.

14. Whose behaviour made you appalled?

No names, but a few people at work made me feel like I was banging my head against the wall.

Also, fuck everyone who has been supporting Israel's attack on Palestine.

15. Where did most of your money go?

Rent and household expenses is the very boring but realistic answer.

16. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

My show. My boyfriend finally moving here. Seeing Barbie.

17. What song will always remind you of this year?

I was so terrible at listening to new music this year. The songs that were written for my show, I guess. I listened to Peach Prc and Tessa Violet a lot, but I don't know if those songs will remind me of the year. Maybe Kitchen Song.

18. Compared to this time last year, are you:

i. Happier or sadder? Happier, happier, happier!

ii. Thinner or fatter? No comment!

iii. Richer or poorer? Poorer. But I have complete control of my finances and can still cover everything and then some. Have to remind myself I'll be okay.

19. What do you wish you’d done more of? Reading! This is something I have to work on.

20. What do you wish you’d done less of? Last year I said sleeping, which is very funny to me. Mindless scrolling is the answer this year for sure.

21. How did you spend Christmas? My extended family did out potluck on the Saturday before which was lovely, and my boyfriend was nervous cause he hadn't met half of them before, and he'd never been to a big Christmas before, but it was really great. My granny is pretty far gone with her Alzheimer's though which was a cloud that hung over everything

My boyfriend's mum then flew down on Christmas Eve, and we had lunch on the day with just us and our mums, cause we're both only children of single parents, and I was a bit concerned it'd be awkward, but it wasn't, it was really nice. We cooked an amazing meal together and both our mums bought the dogs presents. and we watched Fantasia and it was great.

22. Did you fall in love this year?

I did not know it was possible to be in love the way we are. I sold myself short for years. It feels like a waste of time, but god, I cannot believe how lucky I am to have it now.

This is what I wrote last year, at the end of a much more extended answer, since 2022 was pretty big for us. But this is still absolutely true, and I can't get over it still.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? I don’t think so.

24. What was your favorite show? God, I didn't watch much that was new, but we rewatched 30 Rock because my boyfriend had never seen it and that was great.

25. What was the best book you read? The Bookbinder of Jericho by Pip Williams. Little Weirds by Jenny Slate. What You Are Looking for is in the Library by Michiko Aoyama.

26. What was your greatest musical discovery of the year? I went to see Stop Making Sense and it got me very into The Talking Heads. Loved finding corook's music as well.

27. What was your favorite film?

Films that came out this year - Barbie, Oppenheimer, Across the Spiderverse,

Films I watched for the first time - Amadeus, Stop Making Sense, Best In Show, The Great Escape, Glass Onion.

I also went to a cinema event where we marathoned all five Twilight movies in a row, and that ruled.

28. What was your favorite meal?

We've been doing a roast chicken every Sunday together which has been great.

It's what we did on Christmas too and I made a kickass pavlova. Think that's definitely been the best meal of the year.

29. What did you want and get?

For my partner to move here.

30. What did you want and not get?

To win the fucking lottery.

31. What did you do on your birthday and how old did you turn?

I turned 35. I had a work event that night so did nothing special. That was fine.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Said it before, but having more financial stability and freedom sure would be nice.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept of the year?

Comfortable. Embracing my body. Showing my tattoos. As sustainable as possible.

Wrote this last year. Stand by it.

34. What kept you sane?

My dogs. My friends. My boyfriend. Writing. Podcasts. Taylor Swift's music. Going to the movies.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you admire the most?

Caroline Klidonas is an actor I follow on TikTok whose work I just adore. I also love Pip Williams' writing so much, especially after seeing the play of A Dictionary of Lost Words.

36. What political issue stirred you the most? The genocide in Gaza.

37. Who did you miss? Sometimes I miss the family I lost in the divorce.

But mostly not.

38. Who was the best new person you met?

I honestly don't feel like I've met many new people? Which is weird.

39. What valuable life lesson did you learn this year?

Go after what you want.

40. What is a quote or song lyric that sums up your year?

On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "What a mind" This happens all the time

'Cause they said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was nothing

- Sweet Nothing, Taylor Swift

We live in hope--that life will get better, and more importantly that it will go on, that love will survive even though we will not. As Emily Dickinson put it, hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all. And we are here because we’re here because we’re here because we’re here. Sing it with me, wherever you are. Think of those across the broad and roaring seas, and sing with me. You won’t be more offtune than I am. We’re here because we’re here because we’re here because we’re here. We’re here because we’re here because we’re here because we’re here.

- The Anthropocene Reviewed, John Green

#year in review

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cheezburgerrr · 3 months ago

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Sometimes i think to myself maybe i should’ve never left home when i did and i always wonder what that would’ve looked like and im still curious but i know i wouldnt have so many things like i would’ve never met my partner and all of this i wouldn’t be moving to another state at the end of the year but like

what would’ve been the good parts in staying. i would still have a mother i guess but i mean she’s a horrible person so its good i dont gave her in my life but i guess i still miss her because i miss the presence of a “mother” even though a lot of the time she wasn’t one but the times she was it was really nice but it was always soured whenever i remembered and thought about how she would treat me regularly

just feeling lonely tonight and it sucks that i’ll never truly have a mother ever again and i mean i know my partners mother is there for me and i even call her mum but i just kind of hate the idea of family and her actually replacing my mother. its really weird. i have a really weird relationship with family anyway because its like i dont miss having a family per se but i do at the same times but i find it offputting and jarring to do “family things” like having a family dinner or board game/movie night because we never did those things growing up we would eat in our rooms by ourselves and i just grew up really independent and. i wish i didnt sometimes because i feel like now that im in a relationship im too dependent on my partner and i feel like im not really a person anymore without him

but i know i am because i can function without him but i hate functioning without him i just feel sluggish and like everything is in slow mo and im on autopilot and sometimes i just wish i could go back to my old life because i dont want to be an adult i just wish i was a kid again even though i was being abused i dont know i blocked a lot of it out so i dont even know anymore. maybe it was ok. i dont remember anything about my childhood all i know is i had a dog at one point when i was 3 and then we had to get rid of her because we moved house and we moved houses like a lot when i was a young kid and i still dont know why but we never got any other pets and i wasnt allowed to hang out with our neighbours kids so i had no friends growing up and one time i invited one of the neighbours kids to my house and we played and my mum got really mad at me when she got home (after she left because my grandma told my mum and she forced the other girl to go home) and told me that i would get r*ped i dont know why she said that i was only 8 years old

i hate thinking about my childhood but im not having a very good night and ill be sad if this gets flagged or taken down because im talking but i dont really know how tumblr works and what posts get taken down so im just going to censor some things because im writing these posts for myself while my counsellor is away because i dont remember what i want to talk about a lot and there are some important things i should talk about that i forget about and i think she would probably want to know about this

if anyone out there that isn’t me who is actually reading this i hope you are having a good day or night and thank you for reading everything i have to say. i hope you’re doing well i’m going to try and go to bed now and i hope i can sleep ok

i love you make sure you drink water and know that there is someone out there who cares about you

#cheezburger #ramble

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btranwrites · 6 months ago

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Wesley is eager to show his new girlfriend to his parents, but can't stop feeling like something's wrong.

His parents had high standards, after all. But what were they? Somewhere within, Wesley felt a fleeting ghost of a worry, a whisper that he was missing something important. But its fingers were weak and limp, barely applying the weakest pressure on his throat, enough to hitch his breath for but a second, not quite strong enough for him to stop, for him to hang onto, for him to stop and scream for what was missing. Huh. No need to be so dramatic. Why stress over nothing? He was young, plenty of fish in the sea. He’d just got to find someone good enough, someone right, someone with a correct checklist. What else was he supposed to want from a partner?

Finally finished another chapter of Liam An, my ongoing novella that mixes superheroes with Lovecraftian horror. Last chapter, Liam, the protagonist, threw a drag party to draw in the potential culprit behind mysterious cases of missing people who lost memories, and ran into Wesley, his ex. However, it seems like Wesley does not remember their relationship, or even the fact that Liam, and Wesley himself, are gay.

Full chapter under the cut, or read on my website!

Liam An 4: Ill Correction

Intro post Chapter 1: Executive Intervention Chapter 2: Hall Business Chapter 3: Trench Complications

Yeah the guy was cute, sure, but come on. How could Adrianna not see this coming? How did she miss this? She poked at a pea on her plate, chasing it around with the fork as she racked her brains for the signs she could have missed. He was polite, appropriately flirtatious, though maybe a little stilted at times, but overall he seemed like a functioning adult man?

“This crazy thing happened that night at the bar, you won’t believe this mum,” Wesley, the adult man in question, still had a lot to go through, apparently. “I ran into this dude, Liam, used to know him. Absolutely crazy, flinging shit around and shouting and all, but it didn’t matter, because she texted me back!” Adrianna shot her head up and looked over; finally, he noticed her—oh. Never mind, already back to talking with mum. “I was elated, mum! Couldn’t believe it. Right away I—”

Adrianna doubted it even mattered she said anything or not; the past half hour was torturous. How long did dinners usually last? An hour? Two? Maybe if she was less desperate, she could have realised that being invited to a ‘cool and chill’ dinner with the parents at the family home after two weeks was a very glaring sign. Meeting the parents often meant the whole night, but that was the more serious type of parent-meeting. Right? Maybe this ‘chill’ one could do with an hour and a half? Would she need to climb out a window? Break her ankle? It was honestly tempting.

And to think she thought it was cute, that it couldn’t be this bad, not everyone grew distant from their parents, close ties with family could be a green flag, and oh god, she could just hear the group chats having a fantastic time flaying her ass until dawn tonight.

“—watched it, yes! Starlight is a very good cinema! Drinks were a little pricey, but there were—”

The mum—her white hair was gorgeous, honestly—was listening to her son with stars in her eyes, chin in one hand, fork in the other, her plate basically untouched, her attention devoted to her son regaling his apparently rapturous dates with Adrianna. Classic red plaid table cloth, maximalist plates and silverware, the white vase with sunflowers on the mid-century cabinets at the back… Fine, Adrianna could imagine the two of them framed in a very sweet, aww-inducing painting, and fine, maybe Adrianna wasn’t that close with her own parents, maybe her parents weren’t invested enough in her life, but was there not a more appropriate time and place for a conversation like this? You know, not in front of the date? Hello?

“—We did check out the park! Nice and sunny, just a little breezy—”

Maybe she could retry a chat with the dad?

He was sitting across the table from her, still deathly quiet. Eyes still daggers ready for blood. Still looking like she trampled over the family graves or something heinous, who even knew. Definitely not Adrianna.

She tried a sweet smile.

The daggers sharpened.

Or not.

Adrianna ducked her head and chased the pea with her fork again. Slip sliding around the plate all wet, slathered in salad dressing. At least it was having a better time than she was.

***

Wesley turned off the music from the car radio on the drive by himself back home. He wanted some silence to think.

He didn’t blame Adrianna for not wanting to meet again, not really. Disappointed, yes; it had been two weeks, after all, and he was excited to show her to his parents, but he didn’t blame her, not for how cold dad was. Mum was enthusiastic, but why did dad not like her that much? An office job doing things with computers, so it wasn’t like she was a partying, unemployed gold digger or anything.

Oh she could party alright, but still, she was presentable tonight, no? She didn’t show too much skin or whatever. Not that Wesley would complain. Or that he had anything to complain about her. Nice breasts, slim waist, long flowing hair, she checked everything on the list. Nothing was wrong.

Or was there? He grunted. His parents had high standards, after all. But what were they? Somewhere within, Wesley felt a fleeting ghost of a worry, a whisper that he was missing something important. But its fingers were weak and limp, barely applying the weakest pressure on his throat, enough to hitch his breath for but a second, not quite strong enough for him to stop, for him to hang onto, for him to stop and scream for what was missing.

Huh. No need to be so dramatic. Why stress over nothing? He was young, plenty of fish in the sea. He’d just got to find someone good enough, someone right, someone with a correct checklist.

What else was he supposed to want from a partner?

II.

Brett fiddled over some notebooks from the side table, heaping a couple onto his lap, flipping over them as though he was looking for specific pages, gauging the vibe from his peripheral vision in the most uncomfortable armchair in the history of psychotherapist armchairs. Those wooden yet cushioned creatures—such a paradoxical existence—would have to do a lot of heavy lifting to make a room like this more comfortable, more breathable, no matter how well-ventilated and filled with sunlight and calming décor it was; not with clients looking like these.

Their platinum hair was lush, expertly styled, effortlessly crowning bright, wizened faces with but a few wrinkles, and only the fashionable ones. And clothing? Dark, of immaculate, no doubt premium textiles that warmed the body but fenced the soul, guarding intimacy only for a select few. If Alan was still here, Brett would have joined him in casting them as some sort of middle-class extras, ones that exuded the arrogant comfort only afforded by a lifetime unsoiled by hard work but undoubtedly stilted by decorum and etiquette.

He chastised himself; that was unfair. Hardships come in different shades, plaguing hearts and minds across class and generational divides. They were in his office, after all, and not even looking at each other. Joshua Flament was drilling a hole in the left wall with his gaze, and Mary Atkinson’s frown was setting ablaze the window behind Brett.

He stole a glance at the tealight candle burning patiently on the cabinet next to the full-length mirror leaning against the wall to his right.

Its reflection darkened, the lighting and colour dropping a shade colder.

His heart skipped a beat. He’s here.

Brett didn’t know why the Man in the Mirror was interested in these two. Letting him watch what was going to unfold was obviously not ethical, but when presented with the choice Brett found it wasn’t even a dilemma for him. Alan was worth any price.

Right, time to get this started. Brett picked a sheet from a notebook like he found what he was looking for, grabbed a pen, and clicked it. “Thank you for your patience, Mr. and Mrs. Flament. I understand you came with concerns for your son Wesley, who’s not here today. What’s troubling you?”

Joshua pried his eyes from the wall and threw their gaze at his wife. Mary stopped burning the world outside the window with her mind and glared at her husband, who rolled his eyes and turned to Brett. “Our son is seeing a woman.”

“Which is a great thing!” Mary exclaimed. “It’s a divine miracle—”

“It is not!” Joshua turned to Brett. “He came out to us as gay ten years ago, and—”

“And I told you then, which you agreed with me back then as well by the way, that it was a phase!” Brett managed a straight face when Mary looked back at him. “I keep telling him he’s upset for no reason. I prayed for our son’s salvation every single day since, and finally, God rewarded His faithful.”

Joshua looked offended. “Did you even mean it when you told him you love him? Was it through gritted teeth and crossed fingers? Christ, Mary!”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course I do! Love the sinner, not the sin. God works in mysterious ways, and he tested our faith over this difficult decade. You should be more grateful, Josh, and not insult His grace by wasting time and money on…” She looked around his office and somehow managed to bypass him completely, fingers vaguely feeling for something foul in the air. “On whatever this is.”

Wow. Like Brett wasn’t even there at all.

“This is our son, and I thought you would want to be more involved in having a professional opinion on our son’s wellbeing.”

“Should have been more steadfast in your faith instead, Josh.”

“Why did you even agree to go with me, then?”

Mary spared Brett a glance, then back at her husband. “I don’t agree with you. Our son is fine, he’s recovering. But if this will let you sleep soundly, then a few hours are okay to pass.”

Joshua rubbed his face, almost pleading, before giving up and turned back to Brett. “Our son came out to us way back when. It took us, or me at least,” he cast another accusing glance at his wife, who rolled her eyes again, “a few difficult years to come to terms with it, to learn and to understand. Now he’s acting like he was never into men at all.”

Mary shrugged. “Or he came to his senses and realised he actually does like women.”

“That’s absolutely not what happened Mary! Can you imagine the boy not even recognising the name Liam? ‘Oh the guy I used to go to college with, what about him?’ That Liam wasn’t just ‘some guy;’ we spent years trying to… trying to break them apart, Brett. And breaking our boy in the process. And realising how much I was hurting him.

“Now he scrunches his face at the name like something offensive… something disgusting. Like the face I must have made when he first brought up the notion that he’d prefer the company of men to women. Like when… like when I was still yelling at him. God, I was not a good dad, but… partying all night? Picking up girls at bars like a sleazy, uneducated brute? Even graduate Wesley was not that much of an excuse of a man. It would be one thing for him to come out as bisexual, but this… this acting like he was never gay to begin with, is him back in the closet, or even something worse.”

Mary waved a hand. “Why does it even matter, Josh? He was happy with the girl, isn’t that what’s important?”

“Was he, Mary? Was he? He didn’t even look at her that night, he was talking to you. Reporting every minutiae on how much of a lady-killer he was being. What if he got into a cult? What if she got him into a cult and brainwashed him?” Joshua looked at him. “How do I know my son was not brainwashed? I… I don’t know what my son is going through. How do I know if he’s OK?”

Brett rushed in the last few words of his furious scribbling onto his notes and put down his pen. At the periphery of his vision, the darkening had departed from the mirror, and so did the candle flame, a wisp of smoke rising from its wick. There had been no wind; the window was closed.

His work was satisfactory.

“Why are you smiling?” Joshua asked, frowning.

Brett looked back at the elderly man. “Ah, I’m always happy to see parents caring this much about their children. I myself don’t have that,” he didn’t bother looking at Mary; she wasn’t interested, and he doubted she’d be returning anyway. “It does sound concerning for your son, and there’s a lot to go through there. Let’s start, shall we?”

***

That evening, when the sun had set completely, no light adorned that same room except for candle flames, dancing gently by the dozens on the windowsill, on the desk, and the cabinets.

Brett lit the last of the candles and stood before the mirror. It was like looking down at a lake from a dock after nightfall. Lanterns only lit your path on land; their light breached not the domain of the deep, not strong enough to assure you nothing was staring back.

His work was satisfactory, Brett told himself. There was nothing to worry about. He put down the lighter, took a deep breath, and said to the empty room where sunlight had forsaken, “Mirror Man, Mirror Man, come to my mirror, Mirror Man.”

In the mirror, the candle flames winked away into the darkness. If it was like a lake before, then the lakebed had collapsed into an abyss. Its surface rippled, not like from a sudden breeze, but from undercurrents, of something moving, emerging. Then a shape of a man formed in the mirror before Brett, wearing an immaculately fitting tailored suit as black as the deepest night, and a tie as red as the finest wine. Shadows concealed his face, but where his eyes should be the candles once again danced, twin pinpricks of lanterns, of crackling promises.

Brett cast his head down; he did not dare look into those eyes for too long. “Thank you for coming, Man in the Mirror. I hope I did well this morning?”

A rumbling voice replied. “You did. I have what I needed. Payment was satisfactory.” There was a pause; a pressure Brett did not realise was on him lifted. “Seeing you called me here, I assume this is where you wish my service rendered?”

Brett lifted his head. The candle eyes returned their gaze on him, and the pressure returned. But the deep did not feel cold or biting. It was warm, comfortable. Safe. “Yes… I…” He struggled with sudden need, eyes again yanked downward. “I want to remember. Our first night.”

“That can be arranged. Is that what you desire as completion for our transaction, Brett Crawford?”

It was the easiest answer. “Yes.”

“Then when you are ready to conclude business, Brett Crawford, look into my eyes.”

He took a breath and looked up again. The instant his eyes met the pinpricks of candles, his mind fell forward. It rushed past the horrid flashes of the last night at the hospital, past the night of the accident, past the many anniversaries, the many fights and the many laughs, to the first months… the first night.

The onslaught was over the moment it started, and once again Brett was back in his office. Half the candles had whisked away, the rest casting frantic shadow tendrils on the walls, flinging to a silent tune of manic ecstasy.

Before him stood the Man in the Mirror in the flesh, but he wasn’t in the suit and tie as he was in the mirror. Perhaps it was the play of shadows and candlelight, but to Brett he had on the exact button up and jeans that Alan wore that night, when Brett was staying late for work and Alan offered to bring over dinner. They had just been seeing each other for a few weeks, and it was such a sweet gesture, and he smelled so good then, like spice, like tobacco, like fragrant sweat and immense tang and exactly like what his nose was savouring here and now.

Brett gripped the ledge of the desk like a lifeline. His booming heart commanded him to step forward, but his feet were leadened with fear, fear of somehow shattering the candlelit dream before him. But the dream, oh it did not shatter, it took his trembling hand and placed it on that chest. There under his palm Brett felt the right fabric, the right warmth and hardness, drowning in the right scent, his head swimming in all the ways the light and shadow caressed the little he could see of the face before him being so right, so correct.

“You’re not him, I know you’re not,” his voice broke, “but oh God, I want to believe.”

Warm breath breezed through his lips, tasting like the red Alan brought that night. Shimmering eyes held his gaze. “Tonight, you are allowed to. Tonight, I am not the ghost from the mirror. Tonight, Brett Crawford, history is just a bad dream. Tonight, forget what hurt and remember what didn’t. Tonight, Brett, call me Alan.”

“Alan,” he let go of the ledge and leaped into an open embrace, landing on warm cotton and cologne that were very much still there, very much did not vanish. “Alan. Oh God, I miss you so much.”

Large tender hands held his face, fingers and lips burrowing through his hair, dragging burning wetness down across his forehead, his cheek, and nestled in his ear, imparting soft murmurs like oak, like honey, like crackling lantern flames promising the moon itself, in a voice not from the mirror, but the voice robbed from him for many years too long.

Alan told him, “I am here, love. And I missed you, too.”

III.

Wesley was huffing and puffing his way down the stairs to the gym’s showers in the basement, furious. Weights and sweats were supposed to let off steam, but an hour of strenuous work later he was just more pissed off. Why were there so many people? Especially the guys. Yeah yeah, they were buff, they were good-looking, they lifted heavy, they were huge, he got it, got it loud and clear, now could they not get off his face?

Not that they were rude or anything; they were perfectly polite, courteous even, but Wesley was still pissed for some reason. All this lifting didn’t make him any less agitated, just made it worse.

What a waste of time. At least the showers were downstairs so he could walk away for a bit.

Wesley spun around the corner of the exposed concrete of the stair rails, and almost ran into a half-naked man if he didn’t catch himself.

Or not.

“Woah there, buddy!” The annoyingly smiley man said, built like a brick wall, because of fucking course he was; there was just a towel loosely hanging onto a very slim waist, underlining a very defined stomach, and Wesley doubted the guy would even mind if it dropped.

Of course Wesley would mind! God, why was he so irritated?

The guy raised his palms defensively, backing off; Wesley realised then he was glaring murder at him. “Good evening,” the man hesitantly nodded, looking apprehensive at Wesley’s frown, and walked off to the drawers.

Wesley sighed, frustrated, mostly with himself now. The gym wasn’t a strange territory to him, seeing sweaty half-naked men there wasn’t new to him. Why had the past few weeks been so weird? Liam turning out to be a fag out of nowhere, Adrianna dropping him, failing his parents again… It was like something tectonic shifted beneath his feet, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what went out of place, or missing.

He stripped in the thankfully empty locker room, trying to calm his breath by focusing on the scents of air freshener and sports shampoo, the sterile white tiles, the straight cut wood panels, all clean and orderly and correct and maddening. He wrapped on a towel and left for the showers. Christ, maybe he could look up those hippy places where you could go smash stuff?

He stopped by the sink, catching his half-naked reflection, tiny in the yawning, massive minimalist mirror. Wesley was sweaty, like the lot of the men upstairs, though obviously not as big or built; he didn’t look too bad himself, but hold on. Why was he breathing so hard? Almost hyperventilating?

Wesley felt like nails were scratching from the inside of his chest, like he should be feeling something, but he didn’t know what.

What was wrong with him? What was missing?

The lights went out in the bathroom.

Not all of them did, but enough that darkness undraped around him. There were no commotions he could hear above, so surely this was just an electrical fault, nothing to worry about. But Wesley’s eyes locked in on the mirror, now like a vast still lake, at the somehow still illuminated but shadow-shrouded, naked reflection that seemed to fray at the edges before him. It had to be his own—it was a mirror after all—but the man in the mirror had the size he didn’t have, with muscular definition that rippled and mesmerised and Wesley thought of Liam.

He thought of Liam, he thought of Liam naked, of Liam under him, on top of him, of whispers and touches that clawed and burned. He gasped, clutching at his head, but the images blackened his vision with nauseating memories he did not have, laughs he did not remember, Liam in his arms, face buried in the nape of his neck, wet hot tears and choking sobs and wracking, retching guilt, oh God they are my parents, Liam, I cannot do this, I’m sorry, you will find someone else, I will miss you, and that voice, oh that voice.

That voice, telling him he will miss him too.

A voice so alien yet so familiar, a forgotten comfort, something engrooved by the weight of years then ripped out and discarded, only rust marks left behind. It was a younger voice, one Wesley heard just a few weeks back older, more matured, more hardened in the alley at the back of that stupid bar, a voice laced with anger and hurt, asking him, accusing him, what were they?

What were they, Wesley?

They were friends, what else could they be?

But the nails inside his chest must have drawn blood, because there was pain, but also sorrow, so much sorrow, so much of it that he could not understand what for. Wesley clung onto the edge of the sink, but lost grip, knees planting on the tiled floor. Bleary eyes showed him phantoms: the lights were gone, but the reflection in the mirror above him still stood tall, flickering as though lit by house fires; a reflection of a man, eyes of smouldering crimson flames glaring down at him.

A naked, beautiful man.

A naked, beautiful Liam.

Wesley did not know how he could possibly have known; after all, he'd never seen Liam naked now, did he? But that chest, that body screamed familiar. It screamed at him, and Wesley too wanted to scream back not in recognition, but that this was wrong, wrong, wrong, something bad, a horrible, ill thing to be corrected away, but those crimson eyes were relentless, blazing past the terror and demand to be right and correct and slammed straight into his heart.

It thumped.

Wesley clutched at his chest. In the split-second ringing of that drumbeat within, he understood what had been missing.

Adrianna checked the list, Adrianna was correct, the way he was corrected. From what, he could not remember, but his bones ached in the hollowness left behind, the lack of something primal, something essential, the absence of histories erased, of decades washed away.

In that heartbeat, there were no lists to check. In that heartbeat there was only a swansong of want. It was not right. It was not correct. But it rang like thunder.

It rang true.

Somewhere within, a tripwire snapped. Pain seared through him like fire, and nothing else registered. Wesley again remembered nothing, nothing but blinding, all-consuming rage.

IV.

Fuck! That did not get through to him! Inside the Glasslit Void, Liam discarded the illusion of his naked body off his Shard Reaper body suit and jumped through the mirror, landing on the tiled floor of the gym bathroom. Wesley was writhing on the floor, screams mixing up with choked cries as his body contorted in on itself.

“Wesley!” Liam rushed over and knelt down, reaching for his mind. It was a frantic, incoherent mess, and the heart he managed to pry open was a dwindling inferno. The lights flickered hard; shadows fought over their dimming brightness. Show was over; this was no longer necessary. He willed the darkness back to the Void.

The darkness did not respond.

Wesley was crying out, but it was a bestial sound. Black shards flipped in and out throughout his body, shadows coalescing around him, alien, shining black tendrils squirming over themselves, rushing towards his chest where the fire was fading. Liam strained his will, commanding the shadows back.

They did not budge.

These were not his darkness. These came from elsewhere.

“Wesley, Wesley,” Liam tried. “Remember! Hold on to it! Do not let go—”

The flame inside Wesley snuffed out. A shockwave blasted from the core of the once-again vanquished man, pushing Liam back.

All the ruckus must have been loud enough, because there were heavy footsteps pounding down the stairs. Liam snapped his neck back to catch two guys with only towels on, three others still in their workout clothes shining fresh sheens of sweat, barging into the carnage he was now in the middle of.

He shouted. “Evacuate now! This is Hall business!”

They looked behind him, eyes widened, and ran back out.

Liam looked back. Before him, whimpering, in a form that was barely human, was an amalgamation of blackened, writhing glass shards that frayed into nasty fibrils and coiled back into themselves by the second. Gelled black ink bled from the shifting cracks, and in the ashes of the extinguished radiance in his chest, a crucifix of rusting nails jammed through his heart.

That did not look good.

Ending on bad terms or not, it pained him to see anyone like this.

Liam tapped the side of his head. “Jamie, do you copy?”

His earpiece replied. “Roger, Shard Reaper. Status report?”

“I’ve located Wesley Flament. He is… unresponsive, potentially turning hostile. Request backup on standby. We’re at Palm Bay Gym, Eastcourt.”

“Any civilians?”

“Yes, it’s quite busy. I’ve told them to evacuate, trying to control the target now.”

The Wesley-formed bundle of shifting shards and fibrils and bleeding, fraying black goo rose up. It turned around, hungry, empty eye sockets stared at him, the same pits that stared him into paralysis behind the Trench a few weeks back, now simmering with rage.

Liam hurried. “Actually, dispatch backup ASAP. This is looking nasty.”

The Wesley-thing roared and sprinted at him. With mirrored spikes, holy fuck.

“Reaper! What’s happening?”

He shouted, “Jamie, get help here now!” and ducked to the side.

Wesley-Thing slammed head-first into the mirrored wall. Glass smashed against glass, a thousand splinters spraying all over the pristine bathroom. Liam pounded the steps up the stairs back to the gym ground floor.

Gym bros, jocks, men in tight-fitting shirts and shorts looked at him, their faces in various stages of concern and uncertainty, but apparently not enough to forfeit their lifting session for the night.

He shouted. “Why are you all still here?! Hall of Heroes containment in progress! Evacuate now!”

Some stood up and started leisurely packing away their stuff. The rest went back to their sets.

Jesus Christ. Liam took a deep breath, gathered his will, and in a snap plunged the entire gym floor into heavy shadow except for emergency lights, which brightened like miniature lighthouses in a sudden storm. Then with a massive psychic blast, the Shard Reaper unleashed visions of spiders, snakes, all manners of creepy crawlers, indeterminate contorting screaming faces flooding the vision and mind of everyone. His voice boomed, “LEAVE. NOW.”

And now there were screams and running, people finally scrambling off benches, machines and racks. Thank you.

Wesley-Thing pounded up the stairs, roaring; more people screamed, everyone picking up their pace dashing for the exit. The dimness did not deter the Thing’s vision; its head locked in on Liam immediately and started sprinting.

He jumped into a mirror and out the other side of the gym floor.

The Thing corrected its course, and charged at him again.

The Shard Reaper was not a fighter; Liam used his mind to intimidate, manipulate, and quite often seduce his way to his objectives. His muscles were just for show, and the only pounding he was proficient in was not the physically violent type; that he left for other Heroes of the Hall. Now there was an inhuman thing in the vague shape of his first love charging at him at full-speed, and the violent pounders of the Hall had yet to show their faces.

He could just fuck off to the Glasslit Void and wait it out, but that would risk Wesley-Thing turning its attention on the escaping gym goers.

Okay, this better work.

Liam backed away slowly. Wesley-Thing kept its charge, roaring all the way, all sunken eyes and a pit for mouth, grating shards shining a sickening darkness, coiling around the damn crucifix.

The rest of the gym goers had evacuated. When the Thing was a few paces away, he cut off the lights completely, and slipped into the sudden darkness.

The Thing hit empty air, and from the shadows Liam landed on its back. In one smooth motion, he wrapped his legs around its waist, spun around, and pinned it down on the floor, straddling on top.

Bedroom gymnastics had limited cross-disciplinary applications.

Before the Thing could get its bearing, Liam yanked the crucifix off its chest, drawing a sharp gasp. He threw it off the side, hitting the carpeted floor with a thud, and withdrew the darkness from the lights. In artificial dawn, whimpering underneath him was Wesley, eyes red and wet.

“Liam?”

Oh thank god. “Wesley? Wesley, can you hear me?”

A trembling hand reached for him. Wesley’s face crumbled as he sobbed. “Please help. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Liam caught the hand with both of his. “We will, I promise we will, okay? Help is coming. The Hall will be here soon, and we will—”

Red wet eyes collapsed back into hungry pits. Trembling lips slit open wide, too wide, into a mad grin filled with pointed teeth that rolled over themselves like gears in a machine. “You thought it was that easy, didn’t you?”

Fuck! He gripped the Thing’s wrists. “What the fuck are you? What have you done to Wesley?”

“Hello to you too, Shard Reaper. Or should I say, Liam?”

He froze.

“Good thinking on the crucifix, but that’s more decorative than anything, sorry boo. And don’t worry, I’m not ratting you out, where’s the fun in that? I’m very keen on you, Reaper, and your mirrors. This is getting real interesting.”

The windows smashed in. Yellow Watch landed, wings spread wide knocking over benches and weights, shimmering hammer in his hand. Oathbearer rolled off his back, unsheathing her giant sword. The Eye of Magnus followed in from outside, the green halo radiating from his staff softening as he landed softly a few paces nearby. They started running over to him.

“Looks like our chat is unfortunately short,” the Thing said. “Lovely meeting you, Shard Reaper, we will meet again. I shall leave you a parting gift.”

“You are going nowhere—”

Wesley’s back jerked up with a sickening crack and a soul-wrenching cry. His eyes were human again, wide in utter terror, helpless when his neck snapped to the side, cutting short the scream.

His wrists in Liam’s hands went limp, too weak to hang on to what was missing, what was corrected away.

“Wesley? Wesley!”

#writeblr #my writing #original writing #queer sff #queer horror #gay fiction #lovecraftian #cw: slurs #cw: conversion therapy #liam an

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thefangirltreehouse · 1 year ago

Text

spider-man two, thoughts (spoilers below).

this is literally just spit-balling

harry as venom isn't a plot i hate. the way insomniac likes to craft their stories primarily around the emotional baggage of established relationships that peter (and miles) has. fighting for and against your terminally ill best friend with pretty bleak execution results is far more interesting to me than fighting a character who's no more than a missable footnote in the original game. harry as venom isn't something i'm gunning for in the comics but it works for insomniac.

i'm so glad that insomniac really leaned into peter and mj's dynamic and it was nice to see her as more than just the doting girlfriend.

i mean, darin de paul is just a national treasure. in what world does the man that plays ardyn izunia play triple-j.

speaking of final fantasy xv, king regis you bitch! how dare you stab peter. i cannot believe we have two caelum's in one spider-man game.

i'm so happy they integrated hailey into the main supporting cast (also playable?!) but when did she find out about miles?

mj i get, but i feel peter moved on far too quickly from the fact he nearly killed his girlfriend. and on that note, literally just stands and watches the scream transformation. i know they're trying to keep it together considering peter's experience with the symbiote but like, i would've been pissed at harry.

rio and miles dancing at the gala was the most adorable thing. (especially as someone who grew up with a single-mum).

they literally don't explain how venom gets his name

"show them your manhood!" / "yes sir - wait, what?!"

young peter's look just confirms disney / marvel wanted the face change to represent the mcu because that is literally tom holland's face.

i actually didn't think yuri's performance could get any better, it did especially once peter has the symbiote off.

the music during the venom fight with peter at midtown is incredible.

i obviously knew he wasn't going to die but i legit cried when pete got stabbed.

i understand insomniac really want you to use the symbiote suit but peter's lower-level unlocked suits are low-key hot garbage. even as someone who doesn't mind the militarized, tech suits the choices were so mid. i didn't get the suit i really wanted until after i bet the story. i ended up using the raimi suit which i never used in the original game as i don't like that suit but it was the only normal looking suit that wasn't native to insomniac as i don't like their peter suits.

miles' were better but a lot of them seemed to blend together. his endgame suit is actually my favourite (but with the red, purple and blue ombre lining - which i'm annoyed i couldn't even use the swatch in the finale).

had quite a handful of restarts and crashes in 23hrs play-time.

kinda wish we could've seen young!mj with peter and harry.

miles telling harry that he doesn't care if he's peter's best friend, he's still going to kick his ass was great.

i feel like the plot beats for this game overall were kinda predictable in that kraven was the early game bad guy, pete gets the symbiote suit from harry, harry takes it back and becomes venom all with the end result of norman being pissed at spider-man(s) for harry's probably bad outcome. that said, i genuinely have no guesses for structure of the next one and i doubt they're going to make harry a 'villain' again.

i don't think they'll use carnage in dlc, especially when yuri said it might take "years" to track him down, but i also don't know if he'll be enough for the finale as it might - at least gameplay and conceptually - feel like a venom rehash.

this just me on a tangent so feel free to skip. based on what i said, as someone not super familiar with carnage outside of specific media, the problem i have with him in relation to venom is the same problem i have with 'the batman who laughs' it makes the former feel less threating in direct comparison (which will happen when you cut to carnage after immediately having venom as a main antagonist one game prior), especially when venom is brock rather than peter as the host, because there's internal conflict with peter (which can be argued with tbwl's to some extent). carnage, in basic terms is bat-shit venom with zero redeeming qualities and i worry that for a medium like this he will feel derivative. the joker and the venom shouldn't feel less dangerous, especially now that it feels like venom has taken on anti-hero and carnage has become what venom was. like what happened in cruella. disney tried to make cruella likable, so emma stone basically played 'disney: harley quinn' and emma thompson played cruella.

this is oddly specific but i feel laura bailey is like the only woman in gaming that goes for the scream. and i always watch these games (cyberpunk in particular) and i'm like "girl scream, let out that guttural scream because i know that's exactly what's i'd be doing in that situation because this shit is terrifying." the only other time i've properly seen it done was also by laura bailey when she played fetch.

i actually don't know if we'll get another in-between game because i feel like the "play as miles'" itch has been scratched. meaning there's no need to fill that void as until his spin-off we couldn't play as him, now we can.

but if we do, could potentially see a silk, miles team-up to take down carnage.

mj's stealth missions are terrifying. her section under the tunnel with peter should’ve been longer

gutted there's no ng+ yet.

my bisexual queen is thriving.

getting the spider-bots was really the only fun thing to collect.

we’ll probably see gwen in the next game.

the sheer amount of detail on felicia's face

i can’t not hear wally in any of jason spisak’s roles.

“i don’t know what it is, but i just love this spider-bot.” - peter (about the spider-girl spider-bot)

vulture, electro and shocker really didn’t need to be killed completely off-screen. but i feel like they might’ve lost their rating if they weren’t. it’s just a bit strange that nobody noticed, especially pete that multiple high-profile raft inmates went missing?

people are being weird as fuck about cindy and peter. the girl is clearly a minor.

i booted up the first game to replay it, yeah. i still don’t like peter’s new face.

felt like there was half an act missing. could’ve done with one more agent venom mission, perhaps they can’t save vulture or electro. kinda felt like they needed a ‘he really is taking them out one by one.’

could’ve done with venom’s arc being a little longer.

miles’ arc was incredible and i loved watching him team-up with mj.

the black suit with the blue and red highlights from the nineties cartoon?!

speaking of, mj’s outfit during the zoo mission is also a call back

reed richards is defo getting a cameo in the next game and maybe tony on a phone call. i’d also love a nudge-nudge side-quest for deadpool.

i know it’s an emotional scene but i spat out my drink when i saw they changed the pic of harry from the old game to his new design in peter’s garage.

“i think we should get them” the line delivery on that is immaculate, like thank you captain obvious.

i’ve had a bit to linger on this but, there’s a bit of a disconnect between harry wanting the suit and getting it back. i think there had to be just a bit more push with peter specifically. i get he’s a nice guy but we needed to see a bit more passive aggressive harry brewing in the desperation for the symbiote.

watching a playthrough i realised venom got his name from oscorp / dr. connors as there’s a container with the name “vnm” when peter turns connors human again.

i don't want a venom spin-off and it feels like the only people who do want it is to take venom for an hour's joy-ride (until the gimmick wears off) or eddie brock stans that feel jilted by insomniac. i'd much rather get straight to the finale because i don't want to have to buy a playstation six just because some randomers want an eddie simulator first.

chameleon is absolutely going to be dlc.

how did mj get her motorbike back from the tunnel?

predictions for the next game:

electro isn't dead, primarily due to the fact that max may have became pure energy to escape kraven.

cindy, miles and black cat team-up mission.

may is hinted at towards the end of the game.

madame webb is getting something.

if carnage is in the third game and not two's dlc, he'll be the opening act villain (pseudo-kraven).

they'll tease hobgoblin - harry or not. (i could genuinely see harry becoming hobgoblin to help take down otto and green goblin, if it's norman).

peter might die, but i doubt it.

if harry dies, it'll be half-way through the game. i will actually kill myself tho.

i low-key want spot to be in the game or dlc but i don't think they'll do that purely because of spider-verse but you can tell a lot of insomniac grew-up on the nineties show, so it might be a possibility. (most of my knowledge for spider lore exists in that show and the various film franchises because the only spider comics i own is one 'noir' trade and a handful of 'the superior foes of spider-man'.)

i mean, they also could have miles go after spot, which could be fun.

HOLY FUCK! WAIT! HARRY AS GREEN GOBLIN COULD BE AN HOMAGE ARC TO MARY JANE IN LIMBO BUT EVEN MORE ANGSTY CAUSE THAT SERUM IS DEFO GONNA MAKE HARRY PSYCHO - I ACTUALLY NEED TO SEE IT BECAUSE THAT EPISODE IS LITERALLY ONE OF MY CORE MEMORIES.

the delivery of “i think we should get him” is immaculate

someone mentioned this on tvtropes, but stark industries bankrolling f.e.a.s.t is not a bad idea.

fisk will probably be back in side mission capacity or dlc.

#Spider-Man 2 #marvel’s spider man #Spider-Man ps5 #peter parker #miles morales #mj watson #harry osborn

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recoverychronicles · 1 year ago

Text

Entry 1.

January - December 2017

The best way to start this part of my life is 7th October 2017. Almost 6 years ago.

I still sit here to this day and think that was a whole lifetime ago, a whole person ago. Is it sick of me to wonder if he’d like the person i had become? I’m not sure if that’s still the psychological grip he had on me, or whether its because at the start i really did love him.

I thought at the start, everything he was telling me about relationships was true, I’d never been in one before, never had a boyfriend before, so who was i to say otherwise? He told me to delete people off of social media platforms, i thought that was a healthy thing to ask of me. He’d ask me to ignore boys at school because it made him uncomfortable, who was i to question that? It all seemed so mundane at the start considering what i knew was to come. Deleting people and posts off social media because he deemed it inappropriate. I was too naive to think otherwise, although we were the same age he had been out of school a year longer than i had, so I trusted that he knew better than me, and to trust what he was telling me. I think eventually he ended up using this against me.

It all started with textbook controlling behaviours, social media control, social control, going through my phone. This all began not even a month into dating, in retrospect it was childish of me to think this was normal behaviour. My relationship with my best friend made him uncomfortable, so i had to take a step back. I believe she is my soul mate. From the day we met when we were 15, we became inseparable, we did everything together, shared a brain and every thought and feeling each other had. We would shower while the other was in the room. He said that was the part that made him uncomfortable, but in the end i believe it was the fact that i might have told her about the malicious things that were going on behind closed doors.

From the day that we met he was controlling, possessive and borderline obsessive. I should have listened to the warning signs from the girls i was with that night.

Knowing him he fed off of the fact that i was inexperienced.

It was my first night clubbing, i was convinced to go out, as it was one of the girls 18th the day before. One of the others in the group ended up going home because they weren’t feeling well, and asked him to look after us. From the moment we went home, he was blasting my phone wanting to hang out, and if the events didn’t follow how they did, any girl would probably be delighted that they guy they hooked up with in town still wanted to see them.

It was 2 weeks after meeting him, meeting him twice, that we went out to dinner on a date. Now that’s actually decent timing in our day and age. I wouldn’t say that’s moving too fast or too slow, just right. However, that night was when he asked me to be “exclusive”, the dude had already told his mum about us? Now, i might have been naive, but that seemed a little… fast? Sudden? I wasn’t sure if that was too soon to be asking the girl you met 2 weeks ago to be “exclusive” with you, so i agreed. Out of my own insecurities and constant fear of rejection, sacred that i was always going to be the D.U.F.F of my friends no matter where i went, i was just happy someone wanted me for something than just my body, i believed i could have something just once.

Throughout the month, i saw him maybe 6 times, and each time he asked me to be his girlfriend, which i followed with “I’m not ready yet, ill tell you when i am”, he just didn’t listen to the second half, and id have to muster up the courage each time to repeat the exact same thing. I should have seen this as my first red flag.

The 3rd of November.

I think the best thing he ever did for me was the way he asked me to be his girlfriend. He had lit candle through the room, with fake rose petals, a bouquet of flowers and a stuffed bear. He had written on a cigarette (we were both smokers, and id made a comment to him that i would only say yes is if he’d asked me on a tailor rolled smoke) “will you be my girlfriend?”, you had to be there for it to be romantic. He had to buy a pack of JPS super kings to fit it on there. Look at me, still trying to romanticise my abuser.

I don’t know if i was fully ready or just felt bad that i was making him wait so long (the irony), so i told him i was ready. My family were headed to the city that night, like they did every Friday, and i went along with them, like i did every Friday so i could see him.

In his defence i had gotten there earlier then we had thought i would, so he was still lighting candles whilst i sat outside and smoked with his housemate.

An hour later the smoke bin outside caught on fire while we were having sex, was that a sign from god? Was that him telling me how the relationship would be and I just ignored it? Albeit there were probably a billion signs like that that i just ignored.

It didn’t take long for him to tell me he loves me. Now, there’s no Minimum of time where its legally or morally okay to tell someone you love them, but at this time, id only known him just over a month. I think he mainly said it out of fear for my upcoming schoolies festival (A weekend long party for year 12s to celebrate finishing school, essentially, I don’t know any other way to describe it). Id made a comment about how I don’t know what love is or what it feels like, and he proceeded to say “i do and I’m not going to make you say it when you’re not ready” proceeded by an “i love you” 30 minutes later in the shower..

Now, when someone tells you that they love you do you A) make them wait for as long as it takes until you feel it to say it back, B) say it back anyway, or a secret third option? Someone tell me, because at the time I wasn’t aware of answer C. So, me being the romantic i was, wrote it back on a cigarette. At the time i thought it was kinda cute, and i still do, so no judging.

So, i said something I wasn’t sure if i meant or felt. Definitely wasn’t appropriate or polite to just take it back, then he would know that i have no idea what I’m talking about.

The arguments soon followed. At the start they weren’t to bad, but he would create a small issue into a massive one that would make me question what the hell i had gotten myself into. Small issues like, I didn’t want to go out drinking that night, even though during the week i said i did, i hugged one of my male friends at our graduation dinner. Bro literally flipped out when my parents said I couldn’t come over one night, he got shitfaced and made his friend drive the 90 minutes to my house. There was another warning sign.

Then the weekend of my schoolies happened. He’d started an argument with me about me going, forced me to invite him along. He went up to the city with my mum and my sister to grab more clothes and have a shower, and the entire time he was gone, you guessed it, we argued. I went down to the festival without him, one of my male friends helped me find my phone i had lost 10 minutes prior. I remember sitting with my 2 best friends at a bench, and them both telling me that they didn’t think me being with him was a good idea, and they had a funny feeling about him, should have listened to them.

When he got back, my friends and i met him half way home, where he had brought the MDMD caps. Now, this incident still fucks me off to this day, its one of the catalysts to losing my best friend to him. The police ended up driving past resulting in him forcing her to take the box of drugs, grabbed my hand, and made me run.

A lot of the 4 year relationship with him, was him forcing, and him making.

The next month went on with purely arguing and controlling behaviour.

He had his work Christmas dinner 18th December. He had the audacity to ask me if i wanted to spend all of my time with him. I was an independent girl, i liked my alone time, everyone does. I was honest and I told him “no, not yet.” It probably would have been better if i had just lied, and let him believe i did, because that conversation didn’t end well. We were arguing in the middle of the CBD on why I didn’t want to spend every waking moment with him. It was insane behaviour. Im running through the city, trying to get him to stir yelling at me, crying, sitting on a fountain. I thought that this was okay?

Boxing Day. Earlier in the month, i had a job interview for one of the local pubs. Having a job was going to be good for me, I hadn’t worked through the entirety of year 12 thinking it would help me focus on my studies, when in reality i ended up partying every second of the school year, and instead of making money like a normal 17 year old would, i started dealing to pay for my party habits. I had told him about getting the job and being excited to have some actual money, to which he responded with unpleasant delight. He thought that this would mean that we would never get to see each other, not on weekends, and not during the week because that’s when he worked. So his solution? Make me reject the job offer. I was set in to to do a trial shift Boxing Day, who was i to say no? That was public holiday rates. This caused a riot within my family, i’d rejected a job offer for a stupid boy. They were right about the stupid part.

I ended up being kicked out, and he was too excited to get me to live with him. Earlier in the month he had already suggested we do that.

Now, according to relationship experts, 6-12 months is the perfect time to move in together, definitely not 1 month into dating.

Living with each other when you’re still getting to know the person you’re dating is never a good sign.

#DV #SA #abuse mention #tw abuse

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