#because I was like. what the fuck. I’ve been suffering through this shit for years. and no one told me this was a thing? we’re all just

[seilon]

I wish I could tell every young person with a uterus (especially with bad cramps and/or dysphoria and/or depression, etc) that there is a decent chance they just straight up don’t need to live with that. don’t let the stigma surrounding contraceptives and the expectation that you should just ride it out and suffer win. for the love of god if there’s a chance you can lighten or even stop your period and it’s symptoms all-together, unless there’s a legit health concern, your doctor should at least make you aware of that option. I want every young person to know that “birth control” is not just for birth control and it has the potential to make your life infinitely easier to live. do not give in to anti-pill propaganda im serious

[jesuisnilunnilautre]

potential tmi but im so fucking tired of pissing backyard hose strength cold water out of my asshole and getting little surprise radio wave ear pulses every 30 seconds just give me my goddamn medicine that i have a refill for ON FILE and AVAILABLE. like my pharmacy fully requested another one too when it wouldn’t show up. bro why are you telling me that the motherfucker who prescribed me this medication for THREE YEARS can’t fill it because some gp i saw literally one time for a physical TWO YEARS AGO wrote a script too what the hell man. this has literally never been a problem in any of the MULTIPLE TIMED i have asked for refills and renewals since then. i dont even know who you are ive never talked to you before in my life. if youre his nurse you should have my fucking information in front of you! if youre responding to me! to see what i’m talking about! or just let me talk to my fucking doctor im so tired of being in pain

[jerryseinfeldisafurry]

I have to speak my peace about Captain Curly

Warning: mouthwashing spoilers

So, I’ve noticed a lot of people saying the same points that are essentially: “Oh Curly is a piece of shit because he just let his buddy get away with assaulting Anya”

And I am here to argue against this point. So at no point does Curly deny, or tell Anya that what she went through never happened, or anything like that. Usually, when somebody “supports their friend” after said friend commits assault, they will react with disbelief, or just general distrust for the person accusing their friend. I feel like the fact that Anya continuously makes small references to the assault situation around Curly, and the fact she talks and is alone with Captain Curly so often, are indicators that she has not been met with disbelief or distrust on his end.

When a victim receives a bad reaction to telling somebody about their assault, they usually do not bring it up or talk about it with that person after that. They also would not have the same dynamic, the same relaxed mannerisms that Anya has with Curly.

Now, onto the point where people accuse Curly of enabling Jimmy, I also don’t think that’s true. They are stuck on a relatively small ship, with no way out for over a year. They can’t risk hurting or punishing Jimmy, because Curly of all people will know how reactionary and violent Jimmy can be. They can’t kill him, because that’s illegal, and Curly is unfortunately responsible for Jimmy considering he is the Captain of the ship. Aside from the fact that, with the way Pony Express is shown to treat the crew, if they harmed or killed one of their own crew members it’s entirely possible that they would not get paid at all, and all the work and time and energy (and suffering, on Anya’s part) would literally be for nothing. Then they also get tried for murder, and they would have to prove that Jimmy did something wrong, they would have to prove that Jimmy assaulted Anya. After half a year of him being dead, with no physical evidence to prove what he did except a pregnancy that they can’t prove was forced upon her.

Curly is not enabling his friend, and trying to sweep the situation under the rug, he is literally constantly trying to deescalate the situation. Curly doesn’t act like he’s just trying to make the situation disappear. When Anya expresses that she’s uncomfortable, she doesn’t even say out right that she doesn’t want to do his evaluation. Yet Curly decides to volunteer despite not really having the experience, and it also not being in his job description. After Anya tells Jimmy she’s pregnant, and she’s scared for her life, Curly goes to try and talk to Jimmy. He tries to get Jimmy to calm down, and to think rationally, he tries to keep Jimmy from acting out. and then Jimmy goes and crashes the entire fucking ship into an asteroid. Even if they wanted to imprison him, there was nowhere to put him. The only places that had locks were the cockpit and medical. We saw what happened when he was in the cock pit alone, and the last place he needs to be is the one place that Anya can really call her own.

When Curly says he’ll talk to Jimmy, that’s not him belittling the situation. He needs to stay calm and reassure Anya that he’s trying to help her. If Curly was immediately like “I’m gonna go kick his ass” or if he insisted on some sort of retaliation against Jimmy, then that would just stress Anya out more. There is no way to keep eyes on Jimmy at all times, and if he faces any punishment over Anya then she knows he will find a way to punish her for it. Aside from the fact that, I think Curly may have done whatever she asked, especially with the way he emphasized he’d do “anything” to help her when she first tells him that she’s pregnant. He informs her that he truly cares about her, her wellbeing is his responsibility.

Anya also seems to be way too forgiving for her own good. Even when she thought Curly tried to kill all of them, all she had to say was that she couldn’t believe that a person’s worst moments make them a monster. If she was willing to forgive what she thought was attempted murder, I’m sure she came up with every excuse in the book for Jimmy. I’m not saying it’s right, I’m not saying she deserved it. She didn’t. What she went through was fucking awful and horrific. But it’s in her nature to forgive people, even when they really don’t fucking deserve it. We don’t even know if she knew she was assaulted the whole time, since there’s a good chance that Jimmy manipulated her into thinking she deserved it/wanted it. It may be possible that she thought she deserved it, and was too ashamed to speak about it openly for a while, with only the feelings of disgust and shame to accompany her.

Let’s also take into consideration that Anya was not the only person Jimmy was abusive to. We saw the way he talked to Curly, especially at the birthday celebration. Jimmy was an abusive dickhead to everyone. The last time Curly tried deescalating the situation before the crash, Jimmy immediately started taking the stuff Curly told him in confidence and using it against him, to make Curly just as miserable as he was. Jimmy turned his own suffering into shared suffering because then he could tell himself that he wasn’t just trying to get away from his own actions, he was trying to HELP his friend, who was also suffering.

My point is, I think too many people are not thinking deeply enough about Curly, as well as the context on the entire situation. They are putting blame on him when he is also a victim of Jimmy. It was literally just an overall shitty situation

[moongreenlight]

What if your brain tells you that nurse!reader from the previous fic was on the field with the boys as an on call medic and gets taken as a POW and ghost is losing his fucking mind?? - like actual feral behavior

Ohhhhhhhhhmygod. Hi? I’m in your walls. So mad I didn’t see this before because I’ve been SLAVING over a Simon fic all week and this apparently is the motivation I needed to put some more batshit insane things on the internet forever.

We all know that Simon is a fucking machine. Prides himself on his ability to essentially turn off his humanity on the field. But for some reason his nurse!reader is the one thing that interrupts that ability. Even seeing you treating a few rowdy privates gets him worked up. Lingers around the medbay in his free time for no apparent reason just to side eye your patients and glare at them to make sure there’s absolutely no possibility of you getting hurt.

There was probably an occasion where you were treating a soldier who didn’t fare well with pain. Moaning and crying and thrashing while you did something simple like tuck their arm into a sling, and they somehow writhed around enough to hook you in the cheek with their elbow. Nothing serious, but it left an angry red mark on your cheek for so long that he caught it on one of your evening walks around base. Usually after dark so you could both avoid being found out.

And then the next day you see Simon dragging that same soldier to a different nurse’s bed under the armpits. Explaining gruffly that he went unconscious because he couldn’t handle training. (He made the poor bastard run the track in full tactical gear on one of the hottest days of the year for nearly an hour straight. No water. No breaks.)

You were the kindest, softest thing he’d ever come in contact with. Something he never thought he’d be able to find in this lifetime after so much hate and anger and pain. He couldn’t risk losing you, which is why he was so strict on his saying no to you joining the task force on the field. The shit they did was dangerous. Immensely so. And this brought up two main points for Simon.

One; he wouldn’t be able to focus on the task at hand knowing you were out. He slept with one eye open when you were nestled close to his chest and snoring softly in the comfort of your own home that he’d all but booby-trapped home alone style. No fucking way he’d allow you out into hostile territory with only a introductory understanding of self-defense. He’d be on pins and needles the entire mission. Probably get the entire squad killed because he’d constantly be looking over his shoulder for you.

Two; it would rip him to shreds if he lost you. You were the only person he truly saw as an equal. The first time the two of you met, he was probably being angsty and rude because he did something to land himself in the medbay, and when he refused to take off his tact vest so you could listen to his heart and lungs, you all but held him at scalpel-point and threatened him within an inch of his life until he finally submitted. After that he was fucking hooked. Obsessed with the way you could get brutes like him to roll over and show you their belly like obedient dogs. And you were kind to him. Immeasurably kind. Dealt with his mood swings and took the time to get to know him. Suffered through the impossibly long process of him letting his guard down.

So if somehow his orders were ignored, it was almost certain that you’d be given strict orders to keep your involvement under wraps. Price would have enough of an idea of the situation to keep the two of you on opposite schedules in the days leading up to deployment. Minimize the possibility of you letting slip that you’d be coming along to preserve not only the integrity of his team but also his quality of life.

It would seem like a regular day to Simon at first. Loading into the helo before dawn, sitting between Johnny and Gaz and trying to tune them out while they snarked at one another across him. And then Price would come on looking guilty as sin. You could practically smell it coming off him. Leaning both his arms on the open door and signaling the driver to start the engine for a quick take off in case Simon decided to abandon ship in his outrage.

He’d give some spiel about teamwork and the importance of focusing on the mission and whatever other bullshit he thought would keep Simon the most level headed. Spewing on and on until Gaz finally cut him off with a pointed yawn. At which point he’d give the group one last look, lingering the longest on the ghost mask, before stepping aside to reveal you.

Dressed up in a uniform that looked about a size too big. Tailored as best it could be in the short notice. Pants chopped and hemmed to make them a manageable length, belt pulled as tight as it could go around your waist. Strapped into a vest that was loaded with medical supplies instead of weapons. Two pistols holstered on your either side.

Simon was beyond livid. Spouting steam like a cartoon bull. Staggering to stand when the chopper took off and stalking over to the cockpit where Price sat and tried to look casual.

Gave him a fucking earful. Screaming over the roar of the engine into the earpiece on a private channel for the entire two hour long flight. Bitching about paperwork and dead weight and how it’s just another person he’ll need to look after and he doesn’t want to. It’s almost impressive. Price doesn’t get a word in sideways. Gets shut down immediately if he even dares to open his mouth.

And he’s a monster when he finds out you’ve been taken POW. Circled by the enemy team like ravenous wolves finding a wounded deer. Soap and Gaz both have to pin him down when Price breaks the news. Seeing fucking red.

A large part of me thinks he internalizes a lot of the torture he went through in the comics. Letting it sit and fester inside him like the worst kind of poison that it took him years to meticulously extract from his very being and carefully contain into a small vial. Laying dormant in the back of his mind for a moment like this. He had no idea what the enemy wanted with you, so he had to assume the worst.

Storms their base by himself. Sniffs you out through a maze of bunkers and underground tunnels and infinitely many heavily secured doors. And the rest of the force just watches his six. Stands back feeling a little nauseous, but letting him blaze down his war path. Any and everyone who gets in his way is guilty unless they can prove their innocence- and they don’t get the chance. Runs through all his ammo gunning down countless grunts and privates stationed outside the base of planted as decoys. Specifically demanding that Price be the one to give up his weapons and ammo so he can continue on. And it’s the one time that the captain allows him to snarl orders like that.

Price knows that Simon is, in his core, a fighting dog. Rescued by the force and given an opportunity to channel his aggression into a more productive outlet. And now it seems all his hard work and training is coming unraveled. Watching Simon once again snap his jaws and bare his teeth, killing without rhyme or reason to get you back, is jarring to say the least. So in some last-ditch effort to preserve some of the trust that they’d built, he surrenders. Shows his belly. Shrugs off his rifle with no objection other than the way his mouth drew into a tight line.

Simon kicks through heavy metal reinforced doors without the need for a battering ram. Pushes himself well past the point of exhaustion. Fueled purely off the instinctual need to recover you. He can’t speak. Can’t eat. Can’t drink. Can’t stop.

He’d mow through the first few ranks of soldiers until they finally found someone that looked like they’d have at least a sliver of useful information and beat them within an inch of their life until they gave up the information that would eventually lead him to you.

In all honesty, you were probably taken with the intent to lure them in. Not anticipating your absence would have such an impact. Kept you bound in a guarded room. Roughed up a bit just from your struggle, but they hadn’t had time to interrogate you before they got word that 141 was coming in wild and sideways.

This would send Simon even further into madness. Body aching, bleeding from his knuckles. His knees and shoulders screaming their protest when he broke down the door, sending it crashing into the room. And the first thing he sees is you huddled in a corner blindfolded and bound with handcuffs that were cutting into your wrists from your trying to escape. He’d be an entirely different person. (I am giggling and kicking my feet.)

He wouldn’t even bother wasting time with the rifle. He’d handle what few guards were left with his bare hands. Possessed by some kind of superhuman strength. Catching a second wind the moment he laid eyes on you. He’d rush over, the rest of the boys standing guard in the hallway, and break you free from your restraints.

And as much as I would want him to be sweet and coddle you and coo over you, he’d probably be riding such a high that he wouldn’t be able to. He’d immediately start in on you, but with significantly less ferocity than he had with Price.

“You got a fuckin’ death wish? Think they’d turn you into a martyr for bein’ a medic on the field? Real original fuckin’ concept, yeah?”

He’d pull you in close to him, giving you an incredibly detailed once over. Inspecting your face and neck and arms legs for any further damage, and once he determined after three checks that all your wounds were purely superficial, he’d allow his hands to shake just slightly when he smoothed your hair back off your forehead.

[imyourbratzdoll]

I have a request you are up for it. I kind of had this idea where Steve Rogers really screwed the Reader over in their past relationship and cheated on her with Sharon and dumped the reader for her. Even the avengers don't talk to her anymore and made her look like the toxic one in the relationship. two years later it's his and Sharon's wedding day and it was a beautiful and wonderful, however reader returns and decides to kill seek her revenge on Steve and Sharon and the rest of the team. Let's just say she gets it and Steve suffers. (Reader is a witch by the way)😈

hello honey, I hope you like what I've done.

summary - steve cheats on you, causing the team to turn against you to save the world from hating him. years later, you finally seek your revenge.

warning - angst, torture, cheating, dark content, badass female

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

It had been two years since Steve Rogers broke your heart, you thought that would be the worst of it, but the fact the team turned on you and screwed you over by making it seem like you cheated on Captain America, causing the world to hate you, treating you like shit until the point you snapped. If they wanted a bad guy, they’ll get one. 

You sat in a dark room as the tv played, your ex was getting married to the tramp he cheated on you with. Your golden eyes sharpen as you glare at the screen, causing it to explode in sparks. You grin, the whole team would be in that church, making this so much easier for you. 

Your hands glow as you begin to hover, your long black dress falling gracefully around your legs. “Oh, the day that the Avengers fall and all by my hands.” Your laugh echoes throughout the room and you disappear, reappearing in front of the god-awful building. “Oh god, could their taste be any worse?” Your hands face down, levitating toward the church doors and flinging them open with your magic. The whole room falls quiet. “Well, well. Where was my invitation?” 

Your head tilts as Sharon huffs. “You aren’t welcome here!” Your eyes move around the room, connecting with each person. “Hello? Get the fuck out! Didn’t you realise you weren’t welcomed when Steve left you for me?!” 

You smile, your gaze moves back over to hers and you stare. Watching as she shivers under it. “Sharon, Sharon, Sharon. You should know not to mess with a witch, especially a pissed off one.” Your hand flies up, stopping a bullet midair, you slowly tilt your head, looking at the small metal object before your gaze follows where it came from. A grin forms on your face as you connect with Natasha’s. It appears you found something that made the big Black Widow shudder with fear. 

“Y/n, stop this. You are only hurting yourself.” You blink, once, twice, thrice before your laughter fills the room, sending chills up everyone’s spines. “Why are you laughing?! Do you not realise how insane you look right now?!” 

“Sweet, sweet Natasha.” The bullet melts as you direct your hand toward her, lifting her in the air, watching her dangle as she struggles. “I’m not hurting myself, I’ve finally healed from the pain you all put me through. Because, sure I loved Steve and it felt like my heart had been ripped out when he constantly cheated on me with some wannabe tramp. But I could’ve lived through that, what I wasn’t expecting was the heartbreak from the people I considered family.” A growl rumbles within your throat, eyes glowing brighter with each word and emotion. “I can no longer hurt myself when you did a wonderful job of it for me.” You twitch, you can feel the stupid witch trying to enter your mind, her magic feels like something irritating, like a jumper that continues to itch because someone made it out of that horrible fabric.

You continue your hold on Natasha, turning your head, gold meets red. “What are you doing, Little Witch?” You blink, sending her flying across the room, crashing into a row of ugly flowers, causing you to scrunch your nose. “Ew, who chooses weeds for their special day?” You huff, feeling a body slam into you and your other hand reaches out, strangling Vision as he tries to charge again. “What is with you people, don’t you know it’s rude to just attack a person.”

“Y/n stop. That’s enough.” Two years ago, your heart would’ve pounded inside your chest from hearing his voice. But now, your heart lies cold within your body. The rest of the team that you don’t have a hold on, stand, readying for a fight. It felt comedic. “If you don’t leave, we will make you leave.” 

You throw your head back, letting out another chilling laugh before your head falls forward and you glare at your ex. “You make me leave? Do you think you’re stronger than me? You may be Captain America, but deep down you’re just that weak little boy back in the 40s.” You float over to him, black and gold magic building beneath you in a cloud and the anger builds in your veins. Your hands fly back, throwing those you had in your hold against the church walls before you reach in front, releasing all your magic onto the one man, watching him fall to his knees. “You and your team are no match for me, Steve Rogers. You will never be, you will all fall before you even manage to take me with you.” You lower to the ground, standing over him, leaning over, moving your face close enough that it looks as though you are about to kiss. “You will beg me for your life. It may not be today or a year from now, but you will.” You grip his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look into your eyes as you smile. 

Your eyes flash, stopping Tony from approaching, his Iron Man suit begins to slowly enclose on him, squashing him from the inside. “Not so fast, Mr Stark.” Your magic wraps around Steve’s body, keeping him in his position as you turn and face the rest of the Avengers. You look at each and everyone of them, letting your magic explode around you and the room, wrapping around them. “Soon you will all fall, no longer loved, no longer remembered. The world will move on without you and in your demise, you will beg me for help, falling deeper and onto your knees. Sacrificing your beliefs and pride.” You begin to descend from the steps, smirking. “Hm, why don’t I continue to torture you guys some more.” 

With a wave of your hand, all their nightmares come to life. Every single person or thing that they don’t want to face appear in front of them, torturing them, allowing you to sit back and watch with a smile, a glass of wine appears in your hand as you watch them all suffer. A few hours pass and you grow bored, making everything disappear along with yourself. 

While your magic circulated around them, it allowed you to see their future and it gave you many ideas to how you could continue to ruin their lives. Starting with the man who destroyed you. You close your eyes, feeling your spirit escape you and travel back in time, appearing in front of a woman that many looked up to. 

“Peggy Carter.” She spins, looking around for the voice. Your eyes glow and your magic surrounds her. “The love you feel for Steve Rogers will turn into hate, he will appear soon and will want to stay. You will fill his head with every hurtful thing you’ve thought of. You will see who he really is and how much he has changed when he was the smaller version of himself. You will destroy him, rip out his heart and squash it in front of his eyes. He will finally know how it is to feel his heart being broken.” She blinks, walking over to the photo of Steve, staring at it, and wondering why she has it before Peggy grabs the photo and drops it into the bin. 

You smirk, disappearing back into your time and body. Your eyes open with an evil glint, staring right at the readers.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[waltricia]

Bridgerton season 2 episode 3, “A Bee in Your Bonnet” is ✨magic✨ and let me tell you why.

For those of us who didn’t read the book and knew nothing of what was going to happen, we truly went on an incredible and surprising roller coaster of an experience.

We start the episode with seeing the guy from Hellboy and being like ‘oh yay, it’s the guy from Hellboy!’

… only for him to die three minutes later. And that scene is rough. It’s sudden and abrasive. And the sounds are jarring. The death is scored by tense strings. Then a moment of quiet. Then the AMAZING Ruth Gemmell begins taking us on Violet’s traumatic grief journey, which starts with her jolting Anthony (and us) out of the quiet.

And a thunderous heartbeat threatens him as he walks toward this entirely altered, unwanted life path. And that’s obviously the beginning of his PTSD.

In the other flashbacks throughout the episode, we continue to hear horrific, heart-rending pain radiate out of Violet while Anthony must not only attempt to endure it, but cover his own grief. Anthony and his siblings (and again, we the audience) all have to listen to Violet grieve while she’s giving birth! Screams on top of screams.

And the last flashback is technically quiet, but just as devastating because, like the moment of Edmund’s death, the quiet is weaponized. It signifies the death inside Violet.

It should go without saying that Jonathan Bailey is also a brilliant actor, but I’ll say it now anyway. Damn, he good! He and Ruth partnered perfectly in this grief journey. Serious props to them both because I felt this shit.

And then finally we come to the end. We had been immersed in the horrible aftermath of that striking tragedy. Between the flashbacks- in the present day- we had followed Anthony through the rooms and grounds where he had suffered silently. We had seen Edmund’s grave. We had learned that Anthony’s greatest fears and insecurities all stemmed from that tragic event ten years prior.

And then another fucking bee comes along.

And I swear to god, the first time I watched this, when Kate got stung, my heart was pounding, I was terrified, and my instinctive reaction was “oh my god, is she going to die?!” In hindsight, it’s obviously insane to think that she would be killed off at all, let alone in this scene. But the very fact that, for a moment, that was a legitimate fear I had is exactly why this episode is so god damn brilliant. I felt what Anthony felt. And I’m not the only one! I’ve seen other people’s similar reactions to this scene. The episode really is a roller coaster; easy, lighthearted moments (pall mall, drug tea), interspersed with the terrifying drops and loops that are Anthony’s painful memories which constantly haunt him. And then it brought us right back to that first traumatic moment. Because Anthony has PTSD! And that’s what PTSD does. Anthony is right back where he was, literally not far from the same spot outside Aubrey Hall, standing in front of a person he loves, watching them get stung by a bee on almost the same spot on their body. The tense string scoring comes back and Anthony panics because he’s completely helpless again.

And all of those elements- the setting, the scoring, the acting- combined to terrify us and make us forget something critical: most people don’t die from beestings.

And here’s where it gets really profound for me. Because it’s not just about how we feel Anthony’s fear. It’s also about how Kate completely obliterates it. Without knowing that history and without realizing the full extent of what her actions would mean, she does exactly the right thing. Rather than die and rather than also panic or shy away from his vulnerability, she meets it with her own in the form of care and steady assurance, which is true strength. And in so doing, she stops this cyclical moment in its tracks and completely alters the trauma. She puts his hand on her heart, and the heartbeat comes back. But this time, it’s not threatening. It’s inviting.

And just like in the first scene, the moment is over all too quickly. Just like in that scene, Anthony is thrust onto a new path. But where that moment was damaging, this one is healing. And we feel that too. And it’s the greatest experience that art can give us.

It’s catharsis.

And that’s why this episode is magic. 🐝✨

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 25

ao3 link| part 1 . . . Part 22, part 23, prev part

Before Wayne can even make it through the hospital doors, someone is whisper screaming his name. He turns to see Steve waving over to him. Calling him around the corner of the hospital. Where Jim and that Wheeler girl are standing. Looking serious as hell.

“Don’t be mad,” Steve starts, making Wayne nervous, “but I told them about the problem with Eddie’s bills not getting covered.”

Wayne crosses his arms. Giving him a chance to explain himself. “Alright.”

“It’s just. I called the contact that I’ve been talking to about all this, and that got me nowhere.”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “Because you screamed at them for ten minutes and then hung up expecting them to do something about it.”

“I was very persuasive,” Steve defends.

“Hit them with your charm, did you?” she asks, annoyed.

“Jesus Christ,” Hopper groans. “Point is. Steve called me in because I’ve dealt with them before and should be able to get them to hand over the funds for Eddie’s treatment. All of Eddie’s treatment. The surgeries, the physical therapy, the checkups for at least a year. Everything.”

Wayne’s taken aback. When Steve said that the government should be covering the expenses, he thought that was an exaggeration. That they would really just throw a couple hundred dollars at him and call it a day. Give some shitty consolation for the damage the town did to his kid.

Because if this were really just an earthquake, there would be nothing to payout. Maybe a little for the false charges and the man hunt. Possibly a little to give Wayne a steppingstone, along with the rest of the people who were severely injured or lost a home, as a nice gesture. All of it though, that seemed impossible.

“Why would they do that?” Wayne finds himself asking. Ripe with disbelief.

Steve scoffs with all the annoyance in the world. Not at Wayne, at whoever he’s been screaming at over the phone. “Cause it’s their fucking fault we’re in this mess to begin with.”

“Steve,” Hopper warns. Nancy doing the same with her hardened stare.

“What,” Steve almost snaps. “He deserves to know after all he’s been through.”

“I get that,” Nancy’s voice, full of the same sympathy she showed him that day in the trailer park, cuts through. “But we signed away our right to.”

Wayne’s starting to realize that all of this is so many layers deeper than he originally thought. He already knew that the bullshit excuses the nurses gave him when he first arrived at the hospital couldn’t be true. There was a difference between getting hurt by falling rubble and getting skin torn apart by animals. And Eddie’s scars were too similar to bites to be hidden by shotty excuses.

Their argument gets hushed to whispers. Steve getting more annoyed at the second. Continuing to gesture to Wayne, or inside the building, as he continues to make his case. Poorly, Wayne assumes. With the way that Jim and Nancy keep aggravating him. Making point after point on how Wayne can’t know the real reason his son his hurt. Suffering in his hospital bed.

May continue to suffer the rest of his life.

“Could you all just cut the shit and tell me somethin’, anythin’.” They all look at Wayne, startled that he’s raised his voice beyond the acceptable volume. Getting on the verge of bringing excess attention.

Their mouths start to open, probably filled to the brim with excuses Wayne’s too tired to hear. Ones that already fill his mind. Keeping him in the shielded innocent that hurts more than the actual truth would.

“I don’t care for the excuses, so don’t even try. I just want to know why my son almost died. Why I found that girl mangled like that in my home. Those aren’t images that just go away, I’d like to know why they were there in the first place.”

Nancy and Steve make eye contact, looking like they’ve come to an agreement. She opens her mouth, starting to talk when Jim cuts them all off.

Jim, who understands Wayne’s pain more than either of them do. Who looks hardened like a veteran, tired of all this damn fighting. Wanting to live a life filled with peace, but having a soul that can’t let him. Someone who’s fought more battles than people know and isn’t given credit for it.

He’s been kind to Wayne, while keeping the real truth in reserves. Either out of pity, or out of protection. Maybe that’s what he’s doing now. Or maybe he’s finally stopped caring about dried ink, and instead about the people it’s stained.

“It started with the lab,” he says in a hushed whisper.

“Hop, you don’t have to,” Steve cuts in. “You’ve already done enough.”

Jim shakes his head. “You kids don’t need them hunting you down for this. They’re already pissed at me, what’s one more thing?”

What shit did Eddie get himself into this time?

After a deep breath, Jim continues. “The Hawkins Lab wasn’t a normal lab. You know they caused that gas break a few years ago that caused a few people to die. And the news said they shut down, but they didn’t. In secret, they continued to do their experiments, expanded them onto animals, and even as far as people. One escaped along with some animals and started killing people. That’s what happened over spring break.”

It sounds so surreal that Wayne’s debating the validity of these statements. Whether they’re real truth or carefully spun lies. So close to the real thing to be believed, but not close enough to be entirely correct.

But he wanted to know. He wanted to believe that this was true. That the answers were finally given to him.

“What about Victor Creel?” Wayne was so sure that was the answer. Was so sure that the crimes were identical.

“It was his son,” Nancy interrupts before Jim can keep talking. She looks at Hopper, tired and determined. “You’re not the only one going down for this. I was the one who exposed them in the first place.”

“Some of the animals got lose near Eddie,” Steve adds to the story. Filling in the pieces that Jim wouldn’t know. “He was looking after Dustin while Nancy, Robin, and I were going after Creel. He got Dustin to safety, getting the animals to follow him so they didn’t come after us.”

Wayne has the intense need to sit down. Feeling like his feet have been knocked out from underneath him. His world rocked on its axis, almost turned upside down. The truth much worse than anything he could have imagined.

He can almost feel the sensation of teeth ripping through flesh. The pain Eddie must have don through, just to protect his friends. To make a sacrifice that no one asked him to.

Everything he’s heard through clipped sentences and brief explanations finally make sense. The picture coming into focus in his head. The pain crashing over him all at once.

And he’s angry. Angry at the recklessness of his nephew. At the lab for starting all this shit to begin with. At the people who left him behind and couldn’t stop him. Because he knew that Eddie would run into the face of danger a million times to protect the people he loves. Anyone with a shred of knowledge about him would.

The thing he’s angry about the most though, is how damn proud he is of this kid. It’s the one emotion that comes to the forefront in all of this. He’s never been prouder of Eddie in his life.

Wayne raised Eddie to be more than himself. To think and care for others the way his father didn’t. He’s proud that Eddie protected these kids. Angry that he did it in a way that almost killed him. Feeling like it was his own fault that he raised Eddie to be so reckless with his own life.

But he looks at the people in front of him. Sees the guilt imbedded in Steve’s eyes, and the regret in Nancy’s face. The sorrow that Jim shares. Remembers the way that Dustin sat at Eddie’s bedside for days on end, thinking that he was the cause of it all. When really, it was the most Eddie thing that Eddie could have done.

next part

tag list (capping at 100, only 4 spots left): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[sorikufeels]

i’ve seen people complain about how square keeps making sora more dumb and i get that and agree sometimes because i do think that there are some moments where sora is definitely smarter than depicted. however, i sometimes i think it fits and its not because he is actually dumb but because he’s had his mind messed with a lot. and it was messed with during his formative years. in later games, sora is often forgetful, asking what other characters consider to be dumb questions, and shown being slow on the uptake. these things make sense when you consider that:

a) sora’s had his memories scattered and rearranged

b) had an entire year of his adolescence (an important time for brain development) forfeited to a coma in order to fix said scattered memories

c) has been manipulated and the victim of mind games multiple times

d) incurred heaping amounts of trauma in a very short amount of time

don’t get me wrong, i feel like sora is definitely smart in his own way and deserves to have more moments to shine in that regard, but when there’s moments where he forgets things or isn’t able to connect the dots as quickly as everyone else, it makes sense to me. it feels logical, understandable. when those moments happen and other characters make fun of him, i’m always like this kid’s brain has gone through hell and back, it’s a miracle it’s still functioning at all so give him some slack for fucks sake!

he’s still missing memories and it seems like he’s lost more in kh3 (if we’re assuming he forgot about riku’s sacrifice and the realizations he had regarding riku as the light) and might continue to keep losing them in kh4. his mind has suffered a lot and i wish the other characters would be more understanding. but for me, when i see him acting “dumb,” it doesn’t always feel out of character given what he’s gone through. he’s not dumb, his mind has just endured a lot and it makes sense that there are lasting effects from those events.

i have no idea if this is intentional, though lol if it’s not, then square, stop making him so dumb because he’s way smarter than that and you know it.

but if it is intentional, then i love it because it gives me so much satisfaction when events have tangible lasting effects, especially in ways that aren’t outright stated. it would also be cool if this was intentionally supposed to be a factor in sora’s self worth arc. because of his perceived increase of “dumbness,” other characters make fun of him more, making him feel worthless and wrecking his self esteem even further. it’s not his fault he’s having a hard time but he doesn’t understand why it’s happening and it’s another thing for people to shit on him for and eventually he’s going to snap or break under the pressure from all that shit. if this or something like it is the intended outcome, i think that would sick

[seireitonin]

“Toby/ other characters would be an abuser!1!” A talk on why that pisses me off

Hi. My name is Seirei. I don’t want to share super personal shit on the internet, but due to certain factors in my life I have BPD. (this is NOT self diagnosis. I have been to a professional and for now they think I have this due to certain trauma/ symptoms I’ve shown) This is part of the cluster B personality type. That being said Toby and many other creepypasta characters either canonically have ASPD/ BPD or it’s a generally accepted headcanon that they do. Now this in itself doesn’t bother me if it’s done well and with research. But the problem is most ppl just slap these labels onto them without doing the proper research. I’ve gotten multiple comments on my TikTok like “well I think Toby is an abuser bc he has ASPD/ BPD” I hate that. I hate that so much. You guys say it’s for “realism” but you’re just demonizing mental disorders. You’re demonizing people like me. In you having your “realism” youre hurting me and ppl in the cluster B personality type. ASPD/ BPD doesn’t instantly make you an abuser. These are personality disorders brought on trauma. Especially trauma with parents/ family. People with ASPD/ BPD know that we’re not well all the time. We’re suffering from disorders that affect our lives. From trauma/ experiences that we didn’t ask for. These are DISORDERS. These aren’t fake edgy illnesses that you can slap onto a character with no thought when you want them to be angsty. For example when ppl say “Toby would be an abuser/ not be capable of love because of his ASPD and he went through abuse in his past” not only are you taking away the depth of his character, you’re just straight up demonizing mental disorders. If you read his story, he loves his mom and sister so much. People with ASPD can love. But it does cause him to be obnoxious and rude. But this isn’t coming from a place of malice. He’s a traumatized man w a disorder! This isn’t me saying Toby can do no wrong and he’s 100% healthy. Toby definitely has issues and I’d never erase that. But to call him an abuser because he has ASPD is so gross and you’re just demonizing ASPD to be edgy without doing research on it or the cluster B personality type in general. As I said before, people with cluster B personality type KNOW we have disorders. We live with them every day. They affect our lives, our relationships, ourselves. We know that we fuck up and what we do isn’t healthy all the time. We KNOW. We’re not doing it because we’re “abusers” we’re suffering and hurting. Again this isn’t me saying that everyone with BPD/ ASPD is a good person who’s willing to do the work and grow. There are bad people with these disorders. But that doesn’t mean everyone who has them are instantly abusive. I’m not an abuser at all. Never have been and never will be. But BPD does affect me and the way I act that can come off as hurtful/ unhealthy and I KNOW THAT. Im always actively putting in the work to be better, like a lot of people with ASPD/ BPD. Just because we have these disorders doesn’t instantly mean we can’t change/ be better. Doesn’t mean we’re not humans with emotions/ trauma of our own. Toby obviously had to do some kind of inner work to be able to be with Clockwork the way kastoway portrayed them. (If it’s canon or not is irrelevant here)When you say shit like “Toby is abusive bc of ASPD/ BPD” that’s what you’re telling us you think of us. You see us and treat us like monsters but then talk about how much you love Toby/ other characters for having our very real disorder. ASPD/ BPD can be seen as two sides of the same coin. They have so many similarities but are shown in different ways. Do proper research before you talk about mental health because you’re stigmatizing/ demonizing disorders that are already looked down upon. Toby does canonically have ASPD and possibly BPD but it’s written into his character pretty well(as well as a 13 year old in the 2010s can do) and now that ppl are older we can actually analyze his character/story correctly. But Jeff and many other characters still aren’t getting this same treatment and they need it.Do better.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Not really a sexual request but… thoughts on Daryl coming home upset? Like genuinely hurting over something or anxious about something. Personally I think Daryl would have some level of anxiety that every now and then can get bad so maybe something happens with that? Idk I just love your writing and wanna see your take on sad Daryl🫶🏻

UGHH I’ve been CRAVING some sad Daryl for a while I have this idea of Daryl having a mental break where he isolates himself from everyone because he has no clue how to properly communicate his feelings so instead he decides to stay in his own space and silently drown to death alone in his own thoughts.

Normalize holding adult men like babies because obviously thats what they are

I feel like lately my writing has been kinda bad?? 🧍🏾‍♀️Maybe this is just too short idk but something is OFF.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It had been two weeks since Daryl locked himself and your heart in the basement.

He needed some space, that much was obvious, but the worrying started the first week when Daryl didn’t touch the plates of food you or Carol would leave outside the door. He never left the room, never made a sound either. If it weren’t for the years of a living in an apocalypse, you would’ve thought he was dead.

Daryl felt dead, his bone weighing heavy with emotion and anger he just didn’t know how to get out. Years of bottling up everything now seeped through his grimy skin, mind running two miles a minute as his hands fisted his greasy matting hair.

He almost felt like a teenager again, rotting away feeling sorry for himself in bed while internal screaming at himself because lord knows he couldn’t do it vocally. He pushed everyone away, he needed to. Nobody needed to see him like this. Nobody needed to deal with him like this. Nobody needed to help him like this.

Daryl knew you and Carol left food outside his door, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to eat. Didn’t deserve to drink. He didn’t wanna open the door one day and see one of you standing there with a pitiful look on your face. He didn’t need pity.

He also didn’t need the jarring sound of pounding at said door. “Go ‘way” He mumbled, but instead the door creaked open, softly shutting. Maybe he should learn how to use a lock.

“Daryl” You voice was soft against his burning ears, however he felt a twinge of anger surge through him. “Get out. Don’t need anythin” He pushed himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed and only glancing over at where you stood with your arms tightly folded. “It’s been weeks”

He knows. “So? Gonna be another weeks too, now leave” You stood firmly in place, not budging.

Daryl screamed at himself for trying to throw you out, you of all people. Only his internal monologue didn’t match the one coming out his mouth. “Dammit woman I told ya ta leave!”

You stared at him silently, taking a few steps towards him and not faltering when he stood up, merely inches from your face. “Don’ need ya in here feelin’ fuckin’ sorry makin’ me feel worse”

“Well if it makes you feel any shitter I feel sorry for you inside and outside the door” You shrugged up at him, looking at him with a more causal expression than anything. “Why are you pushing me away Dixon?” Daryl bared his teeth at the question, angry at himself cause he didn’t know why. “Why’re ya in here?”

“That’s not answering my question” You scoffed, and Daryl turned to frustrated kick the night stand. “I don’ hafta answer tha’ stupid fuckin’ question! Why can’ ya jus’ leave me tha’ fuck alone?” He began pacing around the room, trying to put distance between the two of you continued to stubbornly close it. “Because I give a shit? You don’t get to suffer in here alone because think you deseve it”

You shoved Daryl’s chest, and surprisingly he shoved back, tears burning hot in his eyes. “Why not?!”

Your face softened and you grabbed Daryl’s hands, holding them tightly in yours. “Fucking stop!” He tried pulling himself out your grip, shaking his head as more traitorous tears spilled. Daryl grunted as you pulled his arms towards you, causing him to stumble which gave you the opening to finally capture him in a tight hug. “Get offa me” He mumbled even as his body desperately melted against yours. “It’s okay sweetheart” You whispered the words and walked backwards, lying on the bed when the back of your knees hit the mattress.

“Ya shouldn’t- Ya shouldn’t see me like this” Daryl buried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling an unfamiliar lump form in his throat. He no longer felt anger, but saddness. He was sad, so sad that he didn’t know what do to other then straying away. His chest hurt, and he felt so vulnerable in your arms that he just exploded, body shaking as sobs racked through him. “I’m here now babyboy, it’s okay” You, quite literally, tangled your fingers into his hair, soothingly scratching the scalp as Daryl’s tears ran down your skin and soaked your shirt.

It hurt so bad yet felt so good to finally, finally let it all out.

You moved to sit up against the wall, bringing Daryl along with you and positioning him to lay across against your shoulder, brushing hair out his red as he sniffled. You wiped his tears with your hand, staring down lovingly at him as you stroked his cheek. “Tell me what's hurting you” You whispered, listening to his soft whimpers and snotty sniffles. Daryl leaned his head against you, eyes flickering up to meet yours as he searched your face. He felt so grateful to have someone like you, caring about someone like him.

“Jus’ everythin” He whispered back.

You kissed his forehead, letting your lips linger there. “Anything in particular?”

Daryl shook his head, soaking up every ounce of attention you gave him. Each tear was wiped away by soft fingers, followed by a gentle kiss.

For the first time, Daryl felt like a little kid, huddled up sweetly in your arms as you ran your hands across his back, slowly rocking his frail frame.

He cried harder than he ever has, muffling sobs into to the fabric of your shirt. You only stroked his hair and told him that it was all okay.

And he believed you.

Daryl could physically feel the love radiating off you, seeping through his clothes and filing his weakened body.

It was so peaceful in the room beside from Daryl’s sniffing, he felt like you were the only people left on earth. As he glanced up at you through clumped lashes, he wished that you were.

“M’sorry” He mumbled.

You quirked a bow. “For what?”

“Fer pushin’ you”

“Away or earlier?” Daryl shook his head slightly.

“Both” He responded.

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Ugh. I guess I forgive you���

Daryl cracked a small smile, one of his fidgety hands reaching for yours. His fingers were cold compared to yours.

“I love you” You whispered, squeezing his hand in yours.

He searched your face, eyes glassy as they once again filled up with tears. “I- I love ya too”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[jusst-you-race]

7, landoscar please

hi lovely sorry this took so long!!! some very fluffy landoscar for you <3 from this prompt list

a kiss to shut them up

“I fucked my whole race again,” Lando’s voice is slightly muffled because his face is half pressed into a pillow, but Oscar is still able to make out what he says.

“Lando, you didn’t fuck anything.” Oscar strokes his hand down Lando’s back, smiling as Lando arches into the touch like a particularly pleased cat. Lando sighs contentedly and relaxes a little into the bed, but it only lasts a moment before he flails his legs around in a sulk.

“I did, Osc. I was shit.” He tries to sound unbothered and factual about it, but there’s a wobble in his voice that Oscar is worried about. He shuffles up the bed slightly, so he’s sitting against the headboard, looking down at the miserable puddle of Lando next to him. Gently, Oscar cards his fingers through Lando’s curls, being careful not to snag his fingers on any tangles. In response, Lando turns his head and smushes his face into Oscar’s thigh.

“You were amazing today, Lando. Your tyre management was still leagues ahead of mine on that second stint.”

Lando huffs, but doesn’t say anything. Oscar continues stroking his head. They sit in silence for a few minutes, until Lando’s warm breath has created a damp patch on Oscar’s thigh, and Oscar's wrist has started to ache from the awkward angle it’s at. Eventually Oscar nudges Lando with his knee. Lando groans and rolls away onto his back, staring up at the ceiling 

“I just wish I was better than this, Osc. I should be better than this! I’ve been racing in F1 for over five fucking years now. It’s stupid that I’m not–” he’s cut off abruptly with a muffled ‘oof’ as Oscar leans down to kiss him and shut him up. The angle is awkward and Oscar can’t really hold himself up like this so the kiss lasts for all of two seconds until Oscar overbalances and collapses face first into Lando.

Lando lets out an undignified squawk as their noses clash and Oscar crushes him under his weight.

“Oscar!” Lando manages to get out between breathless giggles. “Get off me!”

Oscar is laughing at this point too. He doesn’t get up though. In fact he wriggles himself so that he’s fully splayed over Lando with his whole body. 

“No. I’m not moving until you say you were good in the race.”

Lando makes a garbled sort of noise below him. Oscar spreads himself out like a starfish.

“I’m not saying shit.” Lando pushes at Oscar’s shoulder. “Osc move, I can’t breathe!” He’s whining dramatically, so Oscar knows he can breathe just fine.

“Nope. We’re stuck like this.”

Lando groans, before violently wiggling underneath Oscar to try and throw him off. Oscar doesn’t budge.

“Fine!” Lando licks his cheek. Oscar flinches and smacks their foreheads together.

“Ow fuck. Lando, why'd you do that, idiot.” Oscar pushes himself up on one arm, looking down at where Lando is now pouting and rubbing at his forehead. 

“That was your fault,” he whines and Oscar rolls his eyes. “Kiss it better,” Lando demands, pointing at his forehead. 

“Only if you say you were good in the race.”

Lando heaves a long suffering sigh and looks up at Oscar with narrowed eyes, like he’s assessing whether Oscar is going to budge on this. Oscar looks back at him, one eyebrow raised. Eventually Lando relents.

“Ugh. Okay okay. I was good in the race.” He spits it out unhappily and Oscar is confident that his arms would be sulkily crossed if they weren’t currently pinned under Oscar’s chest. Oscar smiles down at him sweetly, endeared. He leans down and presses a tender kiss to Lando’s forehead, savouring the way Lando’s cheeks pink in response. 

“There, was that so hard?”

[gor3sigil]

What being trans means to me

I love being trans. I love transitioning. The thing is, most of the time, I read about other trans people experiences. And I just can’t relate.

I have plenty of tattoos and piercings, and if I have to be 100% honest with y’all, I see transitioning like a bodmod. To me, getting top surgery was one, as I wanted to at least get my nipples removed before I even knew top surgery was an option.

I see HRT as much as a bodmod. A few years back, I wasn’t so sure I even wanted HRT, but after thinking it through and doing a lot of research, I decided to do it. And I never looked back. I’m close to 2 years on T, which isn’t a lot, and I don’t even know if I plan to stay on T for very long, maybe I’ll stop at some point. Who knows.

It goes hand in hand with the everlasting identity crisis I’ve been having since I was born, basically. I was a different person before, and she was so tired, so she left the body to some dude, and he got tired, and they fused, and it was me, and I’m in a trans body, I’m trans, I take T like I paint my nails, I take T like a cigarette, I take T like a hot bath. It’s comforting, it makes me feel good, it makes me feel at home in this body.

I got surgery because I wanted my silhouette to be mine. I changed my name because since I was little, and that’s the only point for which I can say confidently I knew since I was a kid, I never understood why we couldn’t name ourselves. To me, a name was so intimate, so personal, that I couldn’t understand why it had to be someone else’s choice. So I took a new one and changed it.

And now I look at myself in the miror and I’m Cyan, and I got a flat chest, and I have a deep voice, and I’ll do my T shot on friday just like I do every 14 days since almost 2 years, with the same pleasure, with the same smile on my face, the same rush I ever have when I’m excited for my shot.

Close to the feeling I get when I get a new piercing, when I up the size of my lobes, when I feel the first tingles of the needles that tattoo me.

I didn’t “always knew” I was trans. I remember being a kid with a shit ton of OCs, and names for myself that I couldn’t choose, and whose dream was to live a thousand lives before I died. I don’t know who I will be in 3 years. Or in 6 months.

It says on a letter that I suffer from gender dysphoria, and by all means it was true before top surgery. Not so much now. I still am insecure about my body a lot of times because there’s some things missing to my chara design and I am fatter IRL lmao, but with this body I cum, I eat good food, I get drunk, I smoke, I feel hot and fresh water, I swim, I sing, I write this. Even when it’s half broken and it’s raining and my joints ache and I feel like I’m already old, I love this body. I’m not the type of people who will be like “your body is a temple, you HAVE to exercise and eat only fresh veggies” because if I have to be here let me at least have fun. I take care of myself though, maybe not as much as I should, but the best I can.

If I hadn’t overcome everything I did in my life, maybe I wouldn’t have transitioned. Or maybe I would. I don’t care. I don’t need a reason, and neither do you.

This is what I mean when I say that everyone should do whatever the fuck they want because, I wasn’t born trans, or at least I don’t think so. But does it make my transition less valid ? No. I’m better in my skin that ever, even when the low self esteem hits, and I know I would feel way less good if I hadn’t transition. That’s all that matters.

[icyminghao]

if you call on me forever, i will come (preview)

pairing: popstar!soonyoung x fem!reader ft. childhood bestfriend!joshua genre: angst, fluff (not in preview), arranged marriage!au warning(s) (for the preview): cursing, mentions of food word count (for the preview): 1.9k

summary: as a result of his entertainment label teetering on the edge of bankruptcy, soonyoung is given an ultimatum: marry the heir of the largest entertainment label in korea and save his career, or risk losing everything he’s built over the last five years.

a/n: just a little something i’ve been working on to make up for the inactivity~~ not sure when this would be uploaded since i haven’t finished it yet ><

Having been in the entertainment industry since he was eighteen, Soonyoung has quite literally been through it all. From the doubtful eyes of the public when he just debuted to the current, decent fanbase he has garnered through all his years of hardwork and determination, Soonyoung has seen it all.

At least, he thought he had.

“What the hell did you just say?” Soonyoung snaps his head to send the CEO of his music label a chill-inducing glare, and Mr. Kang gulps for a split second before returning to his stoic expression.

“I said,” Mr. Kang clears his throat, “you’re to marry the heir of VIBE Entertainment, as per the conditions set by her father.”

The words hit Soonyoung hard, like he’d just downed a bottle of vodka in one go. He resists the urge to launch himself at Mr. Kang. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“Because,” Mr. Kang sighs, exasperated, “you have to. It’s the only way for our label to survive. You know what our situation’s like, Soonyoung. The CEO of VIBE Entertainment is doing us a mercy here. Just marry the girl, and VIBE will take us under their wing, and-”

“And then what?” Soonyoung snaps, “We’ll just be one of the many companies monopolised by that farce of an entertainment label. You’ll be just another one of his subordinates, another one of his pawns. Is this the path you want?”

“I mean, just look at what the fuck you’re doing here.” Soonyoung runs his hand through his blonde locks in pure frustration. “I have a fucking girlfriend. You’re just going to upend my life to live out a shitty future? This is the twenty-first century, man. You’d think we’d have gotten over the stupid ‘arranged marriage’ cliche, huh?”

“What do you want me to do, then?” Mr. Kang raises his voice, his gaze hardening. “Do you think I haven’t considered the consequences of this for you? For the label? For me? I’m doing this because we have no other choice-”

“I have my fans. I could work something out,” Soonyoung reasons, pacing about Mr. Kang’s tiny, cramped office.

Mr. Kang laughs with no emotions behind his eyes, and Soonyoung is just now noticing the pure exhaustion manifested in his horrid dark eye circles. “Your fans can’t do jack shit, and you know it.”

Soonyoung doesn’t say anything in reply, because Mr. Kang is right. His record label had been struggling when Soonyoung first debuted, and silly, naive, eighteen-year-old him thought he could change that. Thought he could be Mr. Kang’s hero, thought he could save the label with his immaculate talent.

Fast forward to five years later, and the label is doing so much worse after suffering the effects of supporting an average pop star for half a decade. Hell, he can’t even bear to call himself a pop star. Five years down the rocky road to stardom, and he’s barely produced enough hits to even be considered a household name in the country, let alone the world. He knows Mr. Kang is right. They’ve been backed against the wall, and there’s only one way out.

Breaths evening out as he calms down, Soonyoung shuts his eyes so tight it feels like his sockets might pop out. Letting out a sigh in surrender, he slowly opens them and inhales deeply.

“How long do I have till it happens?”

You think you might just be Soonyoung’s biggest fan.

You’ve been with him on his journey to stardom since he debuted, and you’ve been a loyal fan since. You’d even talked to him once, when your father’s secretary brought you to the set where Soonyoung was filming an interview with a magazine.

Which is why your mind is reeling right now. Your father’s secretary, Joshua, had just informed you of your impending marriage to Soonyoung, and you’re both happy and taken by surprise.

“He… agreed to this? Willingly?” you ask, doubt lacing your voice. Joshua simply nods in response, before letting out a huge smile and stepping closer to you.

“This is really big, y/n,” Joshua grins toothily. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and launch yourself into your childhood best friend’s arms, squealing.

“I know, Shua! I’m just, really surprised he agreed to this willingly. I mean, I feel really bad since this is, like, being forced upon us and all, but maybe he remembers me from the time we met at the N Magazine shoot?” you ramble in complete disbelief. “God, Joshua. What if he doesn’t like me? Or I don’t like him as a person? We’d be so miserable, maybe it’s not too late-”

“You know you can’t change his mind once he’s set on it, y/n.” Joshua sighs, gently grabbing you by your shoulders to ground you. “Besides, what’s not to like about you? The only thing you should be worried about is whether or not you’ll like him.”

You break out into a dopey smile, touched by Joshua’s kind words. “Aw, Joshie, are you flirting with me now?”

You see a hint of panic flash through Joshua’s widened eyes, but his phone beeps with a notification before you can call him out on it.

“Oh my god, I almost forgot,” Joshua says after pocketing his phone. “You have a dinner with him tonight.”

You’re late to the dinner.

Which clearly would not give Soonyoung a good impression of you, you realise, as you silently pray for Joshua to drive faster.

In your defence, Joshua had only informed you about the scheduled dinner barely an hour before it was supposed to happen, and you were at your office in your father’s company building sorting out some PR stuff for a newly-debuted boygroup, so you had a grand total of about forty minutes to prepare yourself for the dinner. Which, after reducing the travel time to your apartment to get ready and to the restaurant, left you a whopping ten minutes to spare.

Which is how you ended up in this predicament, at least ten minutes late to your first official meeting as a soon-to-be married couple.

You don’t even realise when Joshua finally pulls up in front of the restaurant, and he has to gently nudge you to snap you out of your stupor.

“I’ll be waiting out here when you’re done, okay? Everything’s going to be fine,” Joshua smiles softly, reassuring you with honey laced in his words. You shoot him a nervous smile, bidding him goodbye as you scramble out of his car and into the restaurant.

The restaurant is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. You guess you’re considered a child of nepotism (a “nepo-baby”, as Joshua calls it), yes, but you’d stopped relying on your father’s black card to get by, instead depending on the pay you earn from your job (which technically comes from him since you work at his company as the PR team leader of a newly-debuted boygroup, but it’s still your money nonetheless) that honestly isn’t much, but you get by, so you couldn’t ask for more, really. Contrary to popular belief, you don’t really do fancy restaurants, hence your surprise.

Your first thought is that this restaurant is overwhelmingly bright. The place is decked out with so many chandeliers, and there are so many utensils laid out on an empty table for two you’d think there were at least five people having a meal there. You briefly glance at an occupied table and wince upon seeing the measly portion of the food, knowing you’ll probably have to get takeout later.

Your second thought is holy shit, Soonyoung’s right there, and he is ethereal the moment you spot him a few tables in front of you, seemingly lost in thought in a booth in the corner of the restaurant. He’s dressed to the nines in a crisp navy blue button down with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of black slacks, and his hair is nicely slicked back with a few strands framing his face, your heart nearly stopping at the sight. He makes eye contact with you as you stand there like a total idiot and looks away before you beam at him, like he didn’t recognise you.

Right, you think, he probably doesn’t recognise you considering the last time the both of you interacted had been four years ago. You take a deep breath and mentally psych yourself up as you walk over to Soonyoung.

Soonyoung looks visibly confused when you stand in front of him, and you don’t know if you should be amused or offended.

“Hi,” you begin, “I’m y/n.”

As if a switch was turned on the moment you introduced yourself, Soonyoung’s gaze hardens, and you feel yourself shrink a little under his piercing eyes.

“You’re late,” he practically spits, venom lacing the two simple words.

“I’m sorry, I got here on short notice, I only knew about this like two hours-”

“Save it, I don’t really care. Let’s just get this over with.” Soonyoung grumbles, not even bothering to hide his eye roll. Hurt flares in your chest, and you timidly take the seat across from him.

“Um, so, I think we’ve met b-”

You’re cut off once again as Soonyoung closes his eyes and sighs in visible frustration, his breaths becoming quicker. “Look, uh, y/n, I have no intention of being, like, friends with you or whatever, okay? You folks sprung this up on me like I’m some kind of object, so you can’t expect me to act like all of this is fine when it’s really not. Let’s just get this dinner over and done with and go back to our expiring freedom, yeah?”

“Soonyoung, but you… agreed to this. Willingly,” you protest, confused at the rude tone he’s taking on.

Soonyoung scoffs, cocking an eyebrow at you. “I have a girlfriend, y/n. Why would I accept this willingly?”

You don’t talk after that, and just like that, there’s an unspoken agreement that that was the end of the conversation for possibly the entire dinner.

Your food arrives, in portions made for children just like you expected, and you eat in silence, willing yourself to stay calm. Maybe he’s just having a bad day, you try to reason, blinking back tears.

Or maybe, the voice deep inside of your head pops up, you’re doomed to be in this loveless marriage forever.

You jolt out of your trance as your fork clatters to the floor with an ear-piercing sound, and you smile sheepishly at the neighbouring diners who had turned to see what the commotion was. Picking up your fork and laying it on the table, you decide that you’ve probably had enough for the day.

“It was nice, uh, meeting you. I should go now,” you purse your lips together and try your hardest to not burst into tears in front of Soonyoung, though if he notices, he gives no indication. You stand up and leave after a few seconds of silence, feeling increasingly suffocated.

As soon as you step out of the restaurant, you let out a huge breath, the first tear slipping out of your left eye. Through your blurred vision, you see Joshua stepping out of his car, hurrying over to you.

“Oh my god, y/n,” he frets over you, swiping your tears away with his thumbs. “What did he say to you?”

You continue sobbing as Joshua wraps his arms around you, leaning your head on his shoulder as you shake uncontrollably. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Let’s get you home, hm?”

You nod in between sobs, letting your body go limp as Joshua walks you to his car.

The ride home is silent, your mind clear of all thoughts but one.

You’re doomed to live out the rest of your miserable life with a man who cannot and will not love you. Not now, and not ever.

a/n 2: i hope this was okay!

taglist: @slytherinshua @xomingyu @belladaises @pepperonidk @tastymintchocolate @smilehui @dahliatopia

masterlist

[lord-of-the-margins]

Recent thoughts on Transgenderism

Tumblr, I think it’s time we approach the gender talk.

I’ve been very angry at liberals since about 2022. Before that (2019-2021) I was terrified of them. I grew up as a liberal in a very liberal area. I knew one moderate conservative. All I’ve known is liberal perspectives and ideologies for most of my life. I went to Evergreen State college for years (super senior). I lived in the epicenter of woke.

I’m not going to be a liberal ever again. Being around a lot of liberals, like in a city, makes me nervous. That’s how bad things have been in my little world. All the bridges have been burnt and every knife has somehow found its way into my back. I’ve since taken them out and re-calibrated my expectations.

Still, I have gender issues. They’ve gotten a lot better. And gender shit is still consuming society for no real reason other than to spread misery it seems.

Because of how horrifically poorly liberal society handles the issue of transsexualism and transgenderism, I’m scared to share the new insights I’ve made regarding gender dysphoria. The way the left fetishizes and commodifies mental illness is truly disturbing. The teenage impulse to commandeer and mimic mental illness for attention is never discouraged at any point. Not even in fully grown adults.

If I tell you what I’ve discovered, I’m afraid you will destroy yet another portion of the DSM in a misguided attempt to validate me. It is not validating. You are harming people. I needed the DSM to figure out what was happening. I needed psychologists to push back on my impulses. I’m glad they did. They can no longer do so without fear of being slandered as transphobic.

I look at the work you’ve done on behalf of the trans community and it reads as a collection of demons trying their best to fix society.

So yeah.

I like Tumblr for reasons other than politics. I don’t really want to talk about politics on here all that much. But this national gender dysphoria the younger generations all seem to have is hard to ignore. It can also be offensive. I’ve felt as offended by Zoomers and Alphas trying to be inclusive as I did from Gen X trying to hurt my feelings. So that’s been a fun little discovery I’ve made about myself and the world. Maybe you just can’t escape it. It’s part of life either way. And if you’re fucking around with gender, it’s inevitable. Maybe constant offense needs to happen just to make this demented form of self-expression that less attractive. Because a trans identity is not an attractive endeavor. It doesn’t make for attractive men and women. If you must do it, you need a thick skin just to look at yourself in the mirror let alone to hear what anyone else has to say about it. It’s signing up for a lifetime of disappointment and can only be explained through mental illness.

To conclude, what I found behind the mental illness was even more mental illness. Given liberals’ inclination to celebrate, imitate, and capitalize on mental illness, I don’t think it would be wise for me to tell you about what I did to make the pain of gender dysphoria go away.

What I will tell you is that I had to recognize that I suffered incredible abuse growing up. Truly exceptional abuse. I’ve been studying books on the matter on and off for about four years now. I had to learn a lot of new things and it was very overwhelming at first. It changed how I saw myself and even how I view reality. It’s been quite a journey.

None of the resources I used were made by anyone in the trans community. None whatsoever. All the people who helped me wrote their books in saner times. Your big gay trans social justice movement didn’t help me one bit. Just like feminism has never really helped me personally. Because exceptional people don’t need a parade to get their foot in the door.

Whenever I get close to woke people, I get nervous. I’ve gotten better at sensing that malevolent energy. Since I grew up with it, it took some time to suss it out. It took a massive fuck up, followed up with sticking to my convictions, to feel about fifty knives in my back before it finally sank in.

A lot of damage has been done and yet there are people under the left’s banner I could still care for. People who make uplifting art that has truly helped me. If I hadn’t found them, I wouldn’t have bothered writing this. So I guess this is for the innocent, the clueless, the kind.

I would only consider seriously talking about gender dysphoria with the public if and only if the DSM once again recognizes transsexualism and transgenderism as mental illnesses and the American Psychological Association allows its practitioners to discourage transitioning.

[olympiansowl]

I need people to stop this obsession with the fucking forced marriage plot between Miriel and Pharazon. Idk guys but it doesn’t really seem okay to me that they gave women power and all, and people are there like “but the forced marriage…” as if Miriel hasn’t been through enough shit already. Technically, they cannot adapt it since it’s a Silmarillion storyline and it isn’t on the books they have the rights to. Some people are looking more haters of Miriel than fans bc what do you mean you won’t complain about the treatment her character is getting? What do you mean that you will want a forced marriage plot but refuse to say to Amazon a simple “change her fate” ? And believe me, they can change her fate. They just did it with Galadriel, Durin III, Durin IV, Sauron and Elendil…

I don’t know if it’s a Brazilian thing, but when we don’t like things on shows, soap operas or whatever, we are vocal about it. And when we like a character, we make sure the people behind it knows about it. And it usually works for us. People used to care for what the audience thinks about something, there are shows out there that have the whole right to the books and yet change every single thing. Also, I’m pretty sure they care about what the audience thinks since this season was a mix between three plots from other characters in one of the show. They changed Durin’s death, which may cause the other Durin to also die next season. Durin III was supposed to die on third age and the balrog should be in Moria, as everyone pretty much knows by now. Galadriel was supposed to be a mother and Celeborn was supposed to be at Eregion. They changed fates. They placed a character that wasn’t on middle earth at second age to be there and have a whole different plot. Believe me, they can change Miriel’s fate. But for this to happen, her fans should at least be more vocal about the treatment she’s getting. Her scenes are being cut, she is always suffering, they don’t show her making the plans or the decisions…we have to guess everything. Like I’m sorry but we have characters that literally helped bring back the devil and even they had moments of happiness this season. And yes, I see it as a disrespect towards the character because I’ve seen this film before and I’m sure you guys have too. The female characters who’s always collecting trauma but they forget those traumas as if it never impacted her or as if she’s never been through it. And the character doesn’t stop suffering and doesn’t have a single happy moment in her life. We don’t see her saying anything more about her father and guys…she’s living on his tower. Pharazon made her live on the tower that her father died days before! The tower he spent the rest of his days (years actually since he lived 220 years) in grief over the city. How did it affect her? We don’t see why she decided to say behind, Cynthia had to clarify it. She had to clarify that the civil war isn’t over, that Miriel is going to fight back and that she algo gave the Narsil to Elendil to start a sort of revolution.

That being said, I am dying to know why the fans aren’t making much noise? Sorry, but you don’t change things like that by being quiet. “Oh I want her to kiss Elendil” yeah so either she survives and/or doesn’t marry Pharazon or they’re going to kiss on her last breath.

The series has little to do with the Silmarillion and even when we consider the books they have the right to, not even the timeline is being followed when we think about Numenor or the dwarves…and, as I said before, it’s all in the appendix. It’s no big deal to let her live.

“Oh but what about Elendil? How will he become King?”

Numenor will be swallowed by the sea. Miriel was the rightful heir to the throne of Numenor, not Arnor since Arnor is something that will be built after the fall of Numenor. If they keep her alive, it wouldn’t change the narrative because they would probably get married and rule together. His heir would still be Isildur because at the time pace the series is setting, it’s possible that we won’t even see the kingdoms in exile at their prime.

“Oh but what about children if they get married?”

We’re talking about a show that forgot the existence of Celebrian, who is the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, future wife of Elrond and mother of his children, to fit the narrative they constructed to Galadriel. It won’t be a big deal for Miriel to not have children since she never got one in the books that talk about her marriage (mostly forced, with one version that was willingly) to Pharazon. Also, they used the “well, it wasn’t stated that Gandalf wasn’t on middle earth during this time…” excuse so they can pretty much use the “it wasn’t stated that she died” considering that:

1 - It’s not on the appendix, not in lotr or hobbit.

2 - No body, no crime.

3 - They created a whole sea creature trial for that woman. They made an eagle appear on her coronation. Those eagles are known for saving people, as we can recall. And the sea creature pretty much saved her. So all of this and that girl can’t get out of this city alive? BE SO FR

And now, to finish this, I want y’all to reflect a little bit on which characters do you really like and if you really like the shipp? I mean, I’ve been a shipper since forever and when we like a couple, we usually want them to end up together and well. Do not use the “but it’s already on the books” because, guys…they literally killed off a character that was supposed to die in third age, made a very delightful dynamic between Galadriel/Halbrand (Sauron), erased her daughter, made some characters have the plot destined to their parents (Pharazon, Miriel, Elendil…) and they also created children for characters like Pharazon, who never had children, and Elendil got a daughter that he also never had. They made the gods answer Tar Palantir, made Galadriel help Sauron and be deceived by him, made Galadriel connected to the plot of Numenor and now you guys want to tell me that they cannot change her death? Like, if you guys like her character and this couple, y’all need to really show it to them. To go on the posts and say things about how amazing she is, how you wanted them to change her fate, how it would be amazing to see them (Miriel and Elendil) rule together in Arnor since they’re fighting to change Numenor’s fate and to save the people…it’s not a very difficult task. And I’m gonna say it as someone that has been a part of a lot of fandoms: they won’t change it if they don’t see a commotion. They changed this season to more “book accurate but not really” thing because of the haters. I’m pretty sure there’s this show that they changed the main couple to another because the fans wanted them to be together. And in the books, they didn’t end up together.

So yeah, fight and say something.

[decodedlvr]

As long as I’m with You

Steve Harrington x You (short)

Summary: Steve wakes up to another bad night you’ve had this week

Warnings: hurt/comfort, talks of poor physical and mental health, doctors, suicidal ideation, medication use, drug use, chronic health issues, BPD if you squint, disabilities, use of the word “girl” x times, negative self talk, mentions of sex, angst, fluff~~

This is based off my own experiences and inspired by my pal Morgan’s version; feel free to check hers out

Tick tick tick

The clock strikes 12 and then 1, 3, 5am in the morning, no sleep no rest it’s an every day cycle. The same shitty cycle.

It’s a new year, but not a new you.

Sitting in your walker in front of the excruciatingly bright television screen, high as a kite, everything in existence running through your mind 100 mph, sometimes the weed helps the pain. Sometimes it induces it or even makes it worse. Right now it’s doing nothing for you. Looking over at your loved one sound asleep. You don’t want to bother him with your whines or crying. So you just sit there silence, tears rolling down your cheeks; while you watch some bullshit on YouTube.

Sniff Sniff

“Baby?”

Shit.

“..yea?” you say in a whispered tone

“Are you ok? what’s wrong?”

“Ah, you already know”, you’ve used that line probably over a million times

Steve comes along your side expecting a few dried tears, but his eyes widen when he’s sees the collar around your shirt bitten, snot dribbling down your mouth and throat, crouching down, he lies his head onto your thigh looking up at you, “Talk to me sweetheart”

“No.”

“Hey, I know you’re hurting”—

“GOOD FOR YOU! Congratulations you know I’m hurting, you know I’ve been hurting for fucking years. I’m glad you’ve acknowledged it unlike some people”you sniffle getting up in a hurry to take a piss as he follows with sad eyes leaning against the door frame

“I’m fucking tired, I’m so goddamn exhausted nobody will ever know what I’m dealing with!”, you say wiping your ass not bothering to wash your hands, “I can’t do anything I can’t run, I can’t jump, can’t go to the stupid, fucking grocery store without one of those motorized carts.. my back hurts, my fucking knees are throbbing, stupid fucking nerves won’t calm down FUCK! It’s not like I can get in the bathtub to calm my muscles down. Nothing is helping! No medication, no PT, no injections, no nothing! Why?? am I just resistant to any source of help or treatment? I-I can’t even lay in the goddamn bed to sleep. That’s all I have left is rest!! What is rest!? I don’t know what the hell that even is”

“I know baby I know”—

“NO YOU DONT STEVE, all you know is what you see. I wouldn’t wish on our worst enemy, my worst enemy to feel what I feel. That’s how bad it all hurts. The most evil, sick and twisted person in this world, I would never wish this upon. I just..”, getting dizzy you collapse on the bed sobbing into your own hands, then eventually into Steve’s shoulder as he rocks you, tears spilling from his own eyes—

“Nobody cares, nobody wants to help me. nobody cares unless I’m rich and can afford to give them any and ALL the things off my back, but I can’t. Even with the money you make it will never be enough to help the poor girl who’s too young to have any kind of issue. It’s “all in my head” I’m just fucking crazy. I could break my own neck and still be told it’s only from anxiety. Nobody cares just”—

“I care” he exhales

“It doesn’t matter if you care, all your care is useless, all your help is worthless to me because it gets me nowhere. Nobody’s love and care gets me nowhere. It’s nothing all but fucking false hope. Don’t you get that? None of you still to this day seems understand that. Stop praying for me to get better. It’s never going to happen. I can’t take it anymore.. I just wanna die! All I wish for is to die but, I can’t even have that. It’s like all of you want me here, to live and suffer for the rest of my life for y’all, it’s not fair, fuck that”, your trembling, body in fight or flight

“Don’t say that, you know I’d do anything to take your pain away”

“It doesn’t matter what you’d do because you’re not a doctor. You’re not a professional, you can’t help me get better.. sucks to hear but it’s the truth Steve..fuck”—

Steve’s really trying not to beat himself up over your words, he knows you’re in pain, it comes from a place of anger, frustration and fear

“I have all these pain medications I could easily take all at once, so I’ll never have to wake up in this position ever again. Why can’t I do it huh? I could end right here right now you never have to suffer again, but I just d-don’t; If anything, I’m the most selfless person for staying alive for YOU just so I can be alive but in pain all over again for YOU!”, your tone getting higher and higher in pitch

“I-I’m sorry.. I wish I knew the right words to say baby”, he’s trying his best to stay strong for you

“You’ve got to be sick of me, tired of me. All I do is cause more money to come out of your pockets, more exhaustion, more burdening, more crying, more everything bad for you. You already deal with your own shit. I do nothing but make your own mentality worse, hell you’re making your own self worse being with a person like me. A broken and useless excuse of a human being. You deserve somebody who can go hiking with you, go to the beach, travel with, who can do the bare minimum. Can’t even fuck you properly—

“STOP! Stop that right now” he shouts

You freeze because he’s never raised his voice at you, atleast not on purpose at such a vulnerable time

“I hate it too. You know it hurts me to know that you hurt and I’m sorry that I can’t take the pain away from you. My sweet, sweet girl I’m so sorry that nobody has given you the chance to hear your voice, to help heal you..but I’m gonna make you the same promise I make you almost every single night. As long as I’m with you, I will try my best with all my power to make it a little bit more bearable for you to be here, and I am so grateful that you are still here and choose to be here with me for us to be together. I know you hurt, but as long as you’re with me, I’m going to do my best to put a smile on your pretty face, beautiful sunshine of a smile because you’re my sunshine.. y-your smile gives me life did you know that?”

You nod. He tells you all the time

“I- I’m tired for wishing to feel ok for my birthdays, every Christmas. All the shirts and posters you got me for Christmas? I haven’t even touched them yet, you know why? Because the selfish person in me doesn’t give a fuck about none of it. The only thing I care about and want and NEED is pain relief and that’s too much to ask for isn’t it? Apparently wanting to be better in the world it’s too much to ask for”

“You deserve to feel better”, he says while his hand travels up your back to rub your tense neck, “You deserve to be free from all of this and I can’t give that to you. You’re not selfish baby you’re hurting. I love you for you. I knew what I was signing up for, and if I didn’t want that I wouldn’t be here right now with you. I know the sacrifices Ill have to make, the tears I’ll have to shed, the strength it’ll take me to pick you up when you’re down, but I fell in love with you, how you are, and who you are”

“Who are you kidding Steve, you don’t even know who I am. The real me. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I wish you met me when I wasn’t sick then maybe you wouldn’t be so stressed out a-and.. and,” you start sobbing again, it’s all too overwhelming

“Hey, hey look at me, no. I met you at the right time. You need me just as much as I need you. You may not think you’re worth nothing but you’re worth everything to me. Yeah you have a good and bad days..—

“I’ve had nothing but bad days for the past few months Steve”-

“I know, I see it, I hear it and I witness it, I may not can feel it, but at the end of it all, you still love me. You’re still here. You still want to cook for me. You still get up to brush your teeth and I’m so proud of you for still trying to care for yourself. That’s the biggest job you’ll ever have, and it’s been a very hard job hasn’t it?

You nod, as he nods with you

“Yeah, it has, but you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I want to provide for you. I want to take care of you. You’re my girl, you deserve so much and as long as I’m with you, I will try every day, every hour, every second or minute, to make sure you know how loved, how great and how amazing you are. How great and amazing you’re doing for yourself and for me. How strong you are”—

—“im tired of having being strong all the time”, interrupting him

“I know you are. You are so strong for being on this earth, even when you don’t want to be. I wouldn’t ask for anybody else, you’re it for me always. Will you continue to let me try to make it better for you every day? To take care of you?”, he squats in front of you, cupping your wet cheeks, kissing your forehead

“But Stevie.. you know you’re getting your own hopes up because nothing you do helps either and I feel like a piece of shit for saying that because”—

“I know what you mean, you don’t have to be sorry. I understand you may not have hope but I do. All my Hope goes towards you and it always will. You are the most important thing in my life. I’m not gonna give up on you, on me or on us, ok sunshine?”

..”okay”, you repeat rubbing your temples

“Head hurt, darling?”

“yes”

“From crying too hard?”

You nod, looking away in shame, “It’s okay, I’ll get your Migrane cap from the freezer and i’ll set your pillows up how you like, just sit tight”, he says it standing then pausing at the doorway, looking over his shoulder, “I love you”

“luv you—

“Hmm? What was that, I couldn’t hear you” he exclaims

“I said love you gosh.. shut up”, you barely crack a smile

That was enough to get him through the rest of the night.