#but it’s so emotionally exhausting to watch a show surrounded by people who don’t give a fuck

[taylorswiftdebut]

hhhhmmm

i’m gonna say it: i hated the eras tour

the actual physical show/performance itself was amazing the visuals and time and effort put in was astounding, taylor swift is genuinely superhuman and there will never be another like her

but being at the actual show and watching it around others sucked fucking ass. which is so strange to say and come to the realization because getting tickets was so mentally draining and she’s my favorite artist and it was such a privilege to be able to go and be on the floor but i genuinely don’t think it as a concert was worth the time and money i put into it. no one was dancing, people were barely singing, it was so hard to see because everyone had their phone held up so high recording every little bit, if taylor came near you people started screaming and making grabbing motions at her like she is subhuman and it just flat out wasn’t fun and that’s only half of it coming online after was even worse.

people will make comments such as “what did this city ever do to deserve this” and “you literally won” and “if you got this surprise song i hate you” and so on and so forth just such vile comments that sure are “all in good fun” but are they? and everyone being like she should have done this at MY show it’s just exhausting. concerts shouldn’t have to be a competition, live music is an art it’s supposed to be fun but i don’t believe anyone but those in the nose bleeds are actually having fun! and even still on this online aspect in the most picky way possible but i hate the quality of gifs this go round because they are so smooth and high quality which no fault to gif makers but what happened to overexposed shaky videos because people were jumping too hard.

it all feels so much a symbol of status and so fake like who’s a better fan who had the better surprise songs who had prettier costumes did taylor give a good speech tonight was there a deviation in the dance moves

i know more about this show than i ever wanted to know about anything in my entire life nothing was ever truly a surprise even when avoiding spoilers it was everywhere it just idk people keep asking me if it was everything i ever dreamed and honestly? no and all i have to show for it is 70 cents in my bank account from buying friendship bracelet supplies (and i didn’t even make enough apparently even though i thought it was a lot!) and outfit supplies and whatever else i needed to “prove” i was a good fan and i deserved to be there and calves that won’t stop cramping from standing and dancing for 6 hours. the best part of the night was hearing about it from my sister who was in the parking lot because she wasn’t preforming for anyone she was just enjoying an artist that she loves

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Sorry about the rambling. I dunno why I wrote so much, but I don’t want to consign it to the draft folder purgatory I only so recently purged.

Today, in the grocery store parking lot**, a truck transporting hogs had broken down.

I dunno if everyone knows what these trucks look like. They are double decker things, these slivery crates with the animals packed in tight. When I was little, before the road was four laned, the trucks would come right through the middle of the town, reeking of pig shit.

Actually, those trucks and those too tiny pig lots local farmers used to have had me assuming pigs naturally stunk. When my little Ryoga showed up I assumed I was going to just have to endure a terrible stench out by the pool. It turned out that if you actually give pigs enough space they don’t stink at all! Who knew!

Anyway, as the trucker worked on his engine the giant cage rattled as hogs moved about. You could see them, the side of a pig, an ear, just glimpses through the gaps. Every now and then a snout would stick out, sniffing at the air. Despite the fact there was the occasional unhappy squeal, the pigs probably didn’t know they are on their way to die, only they were packed in tight in a metal box, and now that they weren’t being jostled around they were baking in the sun and smelling the same horrible diesel exhaust that was choking me.

My god, Ryoga doesn’t know how lucky he was when he ran away and found me! That would have been his fate. He would have been butchered years ago.

Instead he has his cozy house surrounded by trees. He has a human that feeds him twice a day, gives him apples, shares her oranges with him, gives him newspapers to thrash to death, rubs his belly, and frets if he pulls a muscle or catches a cold.

I was buying him fresh wood chips, hog feed, and apples on this trip, while I watched his cousins becoming agitated in a truck that started rocking. I’d be petting and scratching at Ryoga, snuffling back at him face to face just a few hours later. And they would soon be dying.

Look, I get humans are omnivores. I am too. But I can’t stand the thought of eating bacon, ham, etc ever since Ryoga entered my life. It’s no different than how most people would never seriously entertain the idea of eating dogs or cats. I see those pigs, and I see my “little one”.

Ok, Ryoga isn’t exactly little anymore(my tusky buddy weighs much more than me), but he’ll always be “my little one”, the scrawny, battered, little piglet the size of a cat that took Mom and I by surprise late one October day. He’s special to me, but maybe some of those pigs on that truck are smart or silly or cute or playful too. It was just insane luck that he escaped and found me.

At Walmart two people held up signs begging for money, one someone that looked decidedly sickly who said they were disabled, the other a frail old woman, hunched over. Both looked sad, ashamed, and exhausted as they struggled at different ends of the parking lot to keep standing.

So very little separates me from them, as my body breaks and my bank account dwindles. My home is dilapidated, but it is a home. Many of the things my family left me a broken, but some work. I have a very meager allowance to survive on, but it has so far been enough to not quite starve. But how long before I have no livable house and not enough money to meet basic needs?

And it occurred to me that I was like Ryoga. We both got lucky. And loved.

He doesn’t appreciate it, of course, and has no concept of the precariousness of existence. If I die before him, he is probably doomed.

I was like that once too. Taking my family and the life they offered for granted, intellectually getting I was lucky, but emotionally incapable of truly predicting the future that lay ahead.

Like most animals I have a terrible problem of existing too much in the now, and almost paradoxically that has gotten worse now that the reality of my life has proven the folly of such a life. The trouble is, once I started falling there is no time or energy for planning or preparing when everything has become about surviving. How an I exist outside the now, when every moment yanks me back with a new crisis?

Today I watched pigs in a truck, on their way to slaughter, and people that life has crushed desperately hoping for a moment of anonymous kindness from people that would rather not make eye contact. And I feel all the luck I have, and all the fear of how it cam so easily slip away.

**Super stressful shopping trip. I was trying desperately to get the essentials on my list yet still save enough I could pay a certain bill due this month. The good news is I succeeded. The bad news is I may or may not be able to buy groceries for myself again this month! LOL (Don’t worry. The animals come first. )

[fourfucksake]

after Jacob

request: can you write something about Andy Barber after all events from defenfing jacob? something like a continuation of his life after the last ep if you watched the show ofc , it can be sad or happy you choose ! thank yyou

pairing: andy barber x black!fem!reader

warnings: mention of mental illnesses 

word count: 1.1k

p.s please, don’t read this if you feel very emotionally vulnerable!

Being with Andy was a challenge, a hard task to handle. A brilliant, but difficult man whom offered so much joy and pain at once. No surprise, his life served him with pain and suffering, giving his cheek a solid slap on multiple occasions. 

You fell for him still. You could not help it. You could not stop it.

Loving him was a dream and a nightmare combined. Life with him formed a sweet and a bitter mix that rewarded with love and punished with agony.

Observing his posture sat on the floor with a bottle of his favourite alcohol placed in the right hand was not a pleasurable image. He was off his head, drowning inside that bottle.

A hacking cough came out of him, a hiccup followed. The distinct smell of alcohol hit your nostrils, your face expressed displeasure at the newly accumulated smell.

„Andy, please,” You begged, looking at his drunken face. “This again?” A disappointment sight left your mouth. He needed help, you was now sure of it. The repetition of this behaviour started get out of control.

“If you want to whine then go away. I don’t wanna fucking hear it,” He spat, rolling his eyes at you. Another sip was taken straight from the bottle before he placed it next to himself. The alcohol was now gone, every drop of it now placed in his body.

My eyes were deeply fixed on himself. The anger and rage on his face slowly turned to despair and pain. Tears were present in his eyes, but they didn't trickle down his cheeks. The need to say something hit me rather deeply, but incomprehensible blockage within me entirely prevented it from happening.

flashback 

“I appreciate that you never ask me about my wife,” His words reached my ears as I turned to view his face in confusion. We were sat on the couch, watching a random episode of Big Bang Theory that was streaming on Comedy Central. Possibly not the best time to discuss the past.

“Why?” He persisted to my surprise, carefully investigating my face for cues. I couldn’t quite put a pin on why he’s asking me this right now. Sure, he had a right to ask if he was curious but why now. I examined the events from the past couple of hours to inspect possible clues. None were detected as of now.

“Huh, I don’t know. I guess I just assumed that’s something you don’t want to talk about,” Shrugging my arms, I took a sip of red wine placed in the glass I was holding. I felt awkward to say the least. His stare pierced through my body so penetratingly I felt interrogated.

“I don’t, you’re right,” He shrugged his arms. “It never stopped anybody though. People always ask about her. About my son. I’ve gotten used to it by now.” He explained further which was met with my small nod.

“Do you want me to ask you about it?” I asked unsurely, feeling as I am entering a dangerous zone. I couldn’t help but to feel nervous. It felt like inserting myself into a new level of intimacy that I was not quite ready for just yet.  

Truth be told, I often contemplated whether to shower him with questions or stay silent. He was such an interesting person, such a complex persona.

He didn’t answer. I didn’t want to be noisy, so I didn’t say anything either. I had a feeling, deep down, that it will come back and bite me. He started a topic that I could easily finish. In a way, he gave me a clearance to be noisy, but I did nothing.

end of flashback 

“Andy,” My hand reached out to touch his skin. He glanced up to investigate my face for a brief moment before returning his stare at the both of his hands.

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N. I feel like I am drowning in my own thoughts.” He confessed with a shaky breath leaving his insides. “My son…my son is gone. I will never see him again. I will never talk to him. I will never hear his laugh. I will never look him in the eyes and tell him how much I love him. And she’s the reason why.”

I didn’t know what to say, how to react to his painful confession. I sat myself next to him and wrapped my arm around his head. I kissed his cheek, caressing the top of his head with my fingers. His forehead was burning up. I didn’t understand how alcohol could cause all of this. 

“Should we try therapy, baby?” I proposed, scanning his body with my eyes with focus. I saw no other option. He was the most collected person I knew and now he was far from sanity.

He shrugged, clearly not happy with my suggestion. In a way, I understood why. I went to therapy and it wasn’t what I expected at all. Did it help? I would argue Xanax helped with sleepless nights I had due to my daily talks about my own nightmare with the therapist. “They would make me stop this shit. I don’t want that. I need to drink, however awful that sounds.” Andy mumbled under his breath. He looked like he was seconds from falling asleep.

“Come, let’s clean you up, huh?” I got up, helping him to do the same. God, he was in such state. Out of all the people that I knew he was the one I would never suspect of acting in this way.

“You are so good to me, baby. I don’t deserve you.” A drunk smile appeared on his face as he tried to lean down in order to give me a kiss. I held him tight, afraid that he might fall and hurt himself.

“Let’s go, loverboy.” I sent him a dreadful look, exhausted with his current state. It was possibly very selfish of me to think about myself after he indirectly admitted to his dark thoughts. However, carrying a man taller and heavier to oneself to the bathroom to give him a wash was enough of a redemption to the egotistical feelings.

I had no idea regarding what I should do next. Now, more than ever, I regretted not knowing as much as I probably should about him, his past life, or his previous surrounding. I knew his dad was still out there, still alive. Contacting him would probably be the worst possible scenario but if there was somebody who could know anything about his childhood or his other time it was him.

-

(should I do a part 2 or is this too depressing?)

[mosswillow]

Learning To Love - Steve Rogers x Reader (featuring Texas vibes)

Summary: Life always does this thing where it puts you in situations you swore you were done experiencing. You’re done having relationships, but they may not be done with you.

Warnings: Smut, feelings, angst, interrupted assault  (In relation to this, attacker going unpunished, intimidation, stalker vibes.), mature themes, 18+ adult content, slow burn?

A/N: This is a gift for @joannie95 for the Hoelentine’s Day challenge! I hope you like it. This isn’t a dark fic but it is a little heavy, there’s a healthy dollop of anxiety and feelings throughout with a happy ending.

Thanks to  @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares and @drabblewithfrannybarnes  for putting this whole thing together, it’s such a fun challenge!

By clicking keep reading you confirm you’re over 18. This is mature content, be careful.

Unlovable.

When asked to describe yourself it’s the first word you think of. Your very first boyfriend spent months emotionally abusing you and by the end of the relationship it’s what you truly believed about yourself. Every relationship after has been the same. Your insecurities and inability to trust causing tension that eventually sabotages any chance at making things work; and with each failed relationship your view of yourself becomes more and more loathsome. Self hatred and depreciation surround you in a cloak of misery, convincing you that they’re your friends.  It’s all your fault, you deserve all of it, You’re unlovable.

So you don’t do relationships anymore. You want nothing more than to love and be loved, to hold hands and kiss under the moonlight. You want a partner to share your life with, an emotional connection that transcends yourself, creating a whole new person.

If only you were good enough, worthy enough for love.

But you’re not.

---

“No eating in here Dr. Rogers,” you chide.

Steve looks up at you and gives a smirk.

“How about a little bribe.” He holds up a bag of beaver nuggets. You roll your eyes and look around before sticking your hand in and grabbing a few puffs.

“I knew you couldn’t be perfect all the time,” He teases.

“Don’t you have an office or something?”

“I like it better here, I get to be scolded by a beautiful librarian and don’t have to deal with the other professors.”  

You’ve known Steve for years. He started teaching at the same time you joined the library staff at Rice. He’s genuine and kind. You’ve watched him help countless students outside of office hours. Everyone likes him, including you. You really like him a lot. That’s why you can’t let yourself entertain the possibility of being with him. You can’t lose him. You can’t bear the inevitable conclusion of him looking you in the eyes and telling you he’s done, that you’re too much for him.

“Well you’ll have to pack it up, they’re sending everyone home because of the hurricane.”

“It’s barely even a hurricane, more like a tropical storm,” Steve scoffs.

“Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

You close the library down before heading to your car. The wind has already started and the sky darkens by the second. You smell the slight scent of sea air and know it’s close. The humidity, which you forgot could even get this bad, causes you to start sweating profusely and you want to get home and take a shower before the storm starts. You have a pint of blue bell waiting for you at home along with a stack of unread books, a quiet night sounds perfect.

“Hey.”

You whip around and see a familiar face, a grad student who visits the library often. Alex, you remember.

“Sorry, I just closed the library down. You'll have to wait until the school opens.”

He takes a small step forward, close enough that your personal space is violated, while at the same time far enough to where the invasion feels almost accidental.

“I’ve watched you around campus, noticed your schedule.” It’s not an accident.

It’s not unusual for students to flirt with you but this is less flirting and more just creepy.

“Oh, um yeah I work a lot.” you take a step back and he follows.

“You don’t have a boyfriend.” He states.

You stare at him and take another step back, hitting your back on your car. You grab onto the handle and he reaches out and grabs your hand.

“Hey don’t be like that. I’m a good guy. I won’t hurt you.”

You pry your hand away..

“One date, say yes.” He says, slowly pushing his body towards you.

“No, I have to go.”  

You press yourself against your car as his body goes rigid.

“You’re such a fucking tease, parading around me for weeks.”

He takes a tiny step back but places his hands against your car, caging you in. You close your eyes and freeze in fear. Your mind screams at you to move but your body just won’t.

He’s suddenly pulled away from you and when you open your eyes the only thing visible is Steve’s back.

“She said no, why don’t you move along and maybe spend some time considering why you feel entitled to women who clearly aren’t interested.”

Alex and Steve stare at each other for a few slow moments before Alex scowls at you and walks away.

“Are you ok?” Steve turns to you.

“I’m fine.” you lie, crossing your arms to avoid shaking.

Steve raises his eyebrows and looks you up and down. You’re not entirely sure how it happens but somehow you end up sitting in the passenger seat of Steve's truck, looking at your apartment building. Rain has started coming down in earnest and you dread running through it.

“Are you going to be ok alone?” Steve asks

“Are you?” You reply.

You look at eachother and your mind clears. His blue eyes stare at you with concern. Steve's hands are still on the steering wheel, clutching on like it might disappear if he lets go. You don’t want to be alone and you can tell that he doesn’t either. You want to feel safe and right now Steve is the only one who makes you feel that way. It would be so easy to invite him in, you know he would say yes.

“You don’t have a car. do you have food? Bottled water? A portable charger?” Steve asks.

“You’re the one that said it’s barely a hurricane.”

Steve sighs and releases his hands from the steering wheel.

“Just call me if you need me.”

You nod and climb out of the truck. The transition from the hot rain to your air conditioned apartment causes you to start shivering and even after you change and cover yourself in a warm blanket you still shake uncontrollably.

---

The storm lasts three days, worse than you were expecting but nothing like Harvey.

Steve shows up at your apartment bright and early a bag of conchas and breakfast tacos in hand. You climb in his truck and buckle your seatbelt. Steve eyes your book bag before backing up.

“You’re not going to work are you?”

“It’s been three days.” you reply.

He looks at you like you’re crazy and you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“It wasn’t that bad, you got there before anything actually happened,” you say.

He opens his mouth and breathes in before biting his lip and driving you to work without another word.

Steve walks you to your car every day after work. You don’t ask him to, he just does. It’s an unsaid expectation you both have. The first week is awkward, You both say almost nothing to each other. The second week though Steve finally breaks the silence.

“How have you been?”

You shrug.  

“I filed a complaint. He’s barred from the library and promised not to come near me.” you say.

Steve purses his lips.

“Do you feel safe though?”

“No...”

Steve stiffens and you reach out and grasp his shoulder.

“Thank you for walking me to my car.”

“Of course,” Steve closes the door for you and you drive away.

Steve cracked something on your exterior. You had been pushing off the feelings before Steve asked you how you were and now you can’t push them down any longer. You get in the shower and let the warm water wash over you. At first you feel raw and then angry and then for the first time since it happened you cry. It feels silly, to let something so seemingly small affect you so much. It could have been so much worse, it’s not like anything actually happened. Maybe that’s what scares you, not what happened but the implication of what could have. He invaded your space and intimidated you, making you feel small and helpless. If it wasn’t for Steve…

You let yourself fall apart until the water turns cold, then you pick yourself up and wrap yourself in a soft towel.

You look at the woman in your bathroom mirror and see someone who isn’t you. She’s broken and hurting, her eyes swollen from crying. She looks like she’s about to fall over from exhaustion. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. She has every right to feel upset and frightened about it. She didn’t deserve to have her safety threatened, nobody deserves that.

You didn’t deserve it.

You go to work the next day and the day after that. Days turn into weeks turn into months and the fear slowly leaches out of you as you reach out for help. The woman in your bathroom mirror deserves therapy and so do you.

Steve is always there. He walks you to your car every day. He starts texting you and you text him back. You go out to dinner with him, an ethiopian place this weekend and a mediteranian food truck the next. You form inside jokes and slowly you find yourself telling Steve little things about yourself.

“Why are you single?” You ask him one day.

“I had a girlfriend, she’s not with us anymore. After she… I guess I just… I wasn’t in a place for a long time to date anyone, I cringe now at some of the things I did while dating after she passed.”

He leans back and gives you a little smile.

“I’ll know when it’s the right time to jump back in - when it’s the right person.”

You open up about your past and he listens. He tells you about growing up as the smallest kid in his class, how he was bullied and how suddenly people started treating him differently when he hit a late growth spurt. You feel closer to him than you’ve ever felt with anyone.

---

Steve walks you to your car. Tomorrow is your off day and you stop to thank him and remind him you aren’t working the next few days. He’s looking at you and shifts on his feet, you furrow your brows in concern.

“It’s Valentine's day tomorrow.” He blurts out.

You take a step towards your car, knowing where this is going and not wanting it to go any further.

Steve is the one who holds you together, his friendship helping you in so many ways. He holds power over you though, power to throw you aside and break you apart. You can’t be cast away, not again.

“If you don’t have plans maybe I can make you something for dinner at my place?”

You turn away and grab your door handle.

“Sorry, I’m busy.”

“Oh of course, yeah that’s fine.”

You watch Steve bring his hand up to his forehead in the rearview mirror as you drive away.

That evening you write the text, it’s cowardly but you don’t think you can face him.

I don’t need you to walk me to my car anymore. Thank you for your help but I think our relationship should be professional from here on out.

What? No, we’re friends. Are you ok?

You turn your phone off and take a sleeping pill only to be woken in the middle of the night by pounding on your door.

Steve stands in your doorway. His eyes are red and his hair is messy. He takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair.

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“I turned it off.”

Steve stares at you and you look away.

“What is this about?”

“What is what about?”

“We’re friends. I’m not going to stop being your friend just because you don’t want a relationship. I know this isn’t one sided, that you feel the same way about me. Why are you trying to push me away?”

You cross your arms and look down and he leans over, putting himself in your line of sight.

“If I let you in I’ll get hurt,” you confess.

“Why do you think that?”

‘I..” You stutter

It’s not one moment. Not any one breakup you’ve been through. It’s not even what happened months ago during the hurricane. It’s everything. It’s self hatred, overthinking and analyzing. It’s all the anxiety and stress of life that compounds into fear. Fear of failing and of loss, of getting hurt and breaking. You feel like the only way to keep yourself up and moving is by pushing him away.

“You’re so scared of being hurt but Y/N, you’re hurting. You’re doing to yourself the very thing you’re so scared of.”

Tears start forming, Steve brings his hand up and wipes one away before pulling you into a hug and letting you cry into his chest.

He shifts his face close to your ear and speaks softly.

“I have fear too, but you know what I’m the most scared of? I’m scared of not being your friend anymore. We don’t have to be in a relationship but please don’t cut me out.”

His voice hitches and his grip tightens.

“I love you, I care about you and always will.”

You pull back and look at him, a tear escapes one of his eyes and he promptly wipes it away.

“I’m scared,” you say.

“I am too.”

Your heart beats rapidly as you look up into Steve's bloodshot eyes and see the pain that you’re feeling mirrored back at you. Steve holds power over you but for the first time you realize that you hold that same power over him. You never thought you would be willing to put yourself in a vulnerable position again but somehow, here you are. You put your hand over your heart and feel the life pump out if it and through your veins.

reaching up tentatively, you bring your hand to his face grabbing his cheek gently. You stand up tall and slide your hand behind his neck, bringing him in and kissing him. Tension releases from both of you as you press your lips together, embracing in a warm hug. You pull away and he brings you in for another kiss, this time pushing you into your apartment and kicking the door closed behind him.

It’s a flurry of body parts and heat. You’re ripping off each other's clothing. Steve kisses your neck and you bring your hand to his chest and feel down his abdomen. He groans when you get to his dick and the next thing you know you’re on the bed arching your back as he slams into you. You open your mouth to moan but nothing comes out, Instead your eyes roll to the back of your head as an orgasm washes through you and carries you away.

“Fuck, I’m coming,” He says.

He stills on top of you and then looks down making eye contact before rolling beside you and pulling you into a hug.

“That was...” Steve starts

“Amazing.” you finish.

You pry yourself from Steve and walk to the bathroom to clean up, stopping at the mirror to look at your post sex appearance.

Maybe there’s no way around it. Maybe life will stick you in situations and force you forward against your will. You weren’t trying to let Steve into your life but somehow here he is.

For the first time you don’t don’t feel like this unlovable person. You’re not scared he’s going to leave you or that you’re going to ruin the relationship.

You have a feeling you’ve never truly experienced before and now it all makes sense. Somehow in the last few months you’ve learned to love. You look at yourself in the mirror and see someone worthy.

You’ve spent all your time and energy pushing people away when you should have been building yourself up. You thought that taking care of yourself meant hiding away and putting up a wall.

Self care isn’t a bubble bath or a glass of wine and It’s not something that happens out of fear or anxiety. It’s affording yourself the same kindness and forgiveness that you would give anyone else. It’s looking at yourself in the mirror and recognizing that you deserve to love and to be loved. It’s giving yourself permission to feel however you feel without guilt or shame. It’s love in its purest form and you deserve it.

You are not unlovable.

Steve walks up beside you and kisses your temple.

“When you said you loved me...” you start.

“I meant it.”  He says quickly.

You turn and look at him, biting your lip before saying something you’ve been so scared of for so long. You kiss his cheek and smile.

“I love you.”  

[rosesloveletters]

As we approach the anniversary of Heath Ledger’s passing, I would like to use my platform to discuss a few things I find increasingly important that we, as fans, keep in mind: Do NOT mock his death. Do NOT harass his family, friends, etc. (don’t ever do this, but especially not this week or the day of.) Do NOT use his death to signify your online presence. Those of us who appreciate this hard-working, loving, giving soul deserve the freedom of expression granted to us, given that we remain within the bounds of positivity, consideration for others and for Heath Ledger himself. 

(image: Heath photographed for The West Australian on June 9th, 2001.)

I implore you to treat everyone with respect and to honor Heath in a way in which you would honor a loved one; be kind, courteous, respectful and tactful whenever you are discussing his passing and remain conscious of others and their feelings regarding this subject. It is a subject of sensitivity for many and I ask that you consider how others might feel when approached with the topic. Do NOT pass around photos of him that the paparazzi took on that fateful day. This is a blatant disregard for Heath and his privacy; He was unable to consent to having those photos taken, for obvious reasons, and I am certain that he would not have consented, given his distaste for the paparazzi and having felt as though his life was ‘on display’. 

Remember to treat him and others with respect. It is the bare minimum of common courtesy when dealing with such a raw topic; Heath would be honored by how most choose to remember him and I think that he would be humbled by the legacy he’s left behind.

On another, more important note, we must to remember a few things regarding the late Heath Ledger: 

He did not die because of his role as The Joker in ‘The Dark Knight’. 

He did NOT die of a suicide. 

Heath was struggling with insomnia, illness, his break-up with Michelle and (presumably) depression (though I don’t believe that was ever officially confirmed) at the time of his passing and we must remember how sensitive a subject this is, for his family, loved ones, friends and fans alike. 

For more factual information on his passing, I recommend visiting these links provided: 

Friends and Family Remember His Final Weeks 

Some important quotes from this article to take into consideration: 

“Gerry Grennell, Ledger’s friend and dialect coach who lived and worked with the star while he was shooting The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus in the final weeks of his life, spoke with PEOPLE in 2017 for a cover story on Ledger, nine years after the actor’s death. He recalled his friend being “exhausted, emotionally and physically” while battling a lingering pneumonia-type illness.”

“Grennell said the star’s mood was low. “He missed his girl, he missed his family, he missed his little girl — he desperately wanted to see her and hold her and play with her,” he added, referring to Ledger’s former girlfriend Michelle Williams and their then-2-year-old daughter, Matilda. “He was desperately unhappy, desperately sad.””

But in his final weeks, Grennell said Ledger knew he was spiraling. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from taking the pills. “He said, ‘I got to stop, it’s not helping, I’m not well, it’s making me feel more upset,’” Grennell continued. “It wasn’t helping with the relationship issues, it wasn’t helping with missing his kid, it wasn’t helping his sleeping — and he knew that.”

“Being such a social guy, having to be a bit of a hermit, or wear hats and glasses was super annoying,” he added, describing the lengths to which Ledger went to avoid the paparazzi. “His happiest I remember was times like when we were in Bondi on the beach catching waves, and nobody really looking his way, and when he moved to Brooklyn and could walk around with nobody bothering him.”

Heath Ledger’s Father Kim Speaks of Son’s Death - Trigger Warning: Kim Ledger mentions seeing EMS removing Heath’s body from his home in new York. This video and its message is EXTREMELY important; if you choose to view no other material listed here, please watch this short interview. 

Statements Made by Heath Ledger’s Sisters

Heath Ledger’s Sisters Clear Up Rumors About His Death In New Documentary

Some important quotes from this article to take into consideration: 

Though the doc doesn't elaborate on the "demons" that plagued Ledger's final days, it does change the narrative about his mental state at that time. According to the actor's family, Ledger's role in The Dark Knight didn't depress him, as so many tabloids had reported. It energized him."It was coming out that he was depressed and it was taking a toll, and we were going, 'What?'" Bell said. "It was the absolute opposite," Kate Ledger added. "He had an amazing sense of humor, and I guess only his close family and friends really knew that. But he was having fun. He wasn’t depressed about The Joker."

That's about as far as the film delves into Ledger's death. Instead, I Am Heath Ledger chooses to focus on his life. It may not be a complete picture of the actor, but after nearly a decade of rampant rumors and tabloid gossip, it's nice to see Heath through his own lens.

Speculation into Heath’s passing has been vast, leaving much to the media to exaggerate and perpetuate; there is very little evidence or proof that lends to the fact that Heath was an ‘addict’ as has been portrayed, however this statement can be found on his Wikipedia page: 

“Ledger was "widely reported to have struggled with substance abuse.” Following Ledger's death, Entertainment Tonight aired video footage from 2006 in which Ledger stated that he "'used to smoke five joints a day for 20 years” and news outlets reported that his drug abuse had prompted Williams to request that he move out of their apartment in Brooklyn. Ledger's publicist asserted that some reportage regarding Ledger and drugs had been inaccurate.”

When discussing his death, please keep in mind that a large portion about his personal life has been over-exaggerated and therefore, research is key.

Heath’s private life is not something we should pry into and we should be respectful of the fact that we simply do not have the information to conclusively determine certain theories. It is among human nature to ask questions and want answers, but it is our responsibility to know what is appropriate and how we should go about researching such a topic. 

Do not pry into Heath’s private life; be mindful of the information you choose to share and treat him as you would treat any other person. Just because he is a “celebrity” does NOT mean that every detail of his life should be public access. Treat him how you would want to be treated; you are not entitled to his private life, nor is anyone other than those he was closest to. 

We have countless interviews and testimonies to his character from family and friends, those of which prove to be the most accurate. 

Check out this video: Famous People Talking About Heath Ledger to hear some of these positive testaments to his character.

Drug abuse is a very serious matter; I do not condone Heath’s decision to abuse prescription drugs, nor should any fan; his death provides a testament to the dangers of prescription pills and we should remember to be mindful of their effect. Prescription drug abuse is a serious matter and we should not overlook the seriousness of it.

If you or someone you know is suffering from Opioid drug abuse, visit the link provided for the CDC’s help and resources

Please remain respectful while researching his passing and use discretion. Information perpetuated by the media has proved time and time again to be harmful to those in the limelight and Heath was a victim of that as well. Respect the fact that we do not know of his private life and accept that we do not have the right to know. There is a large amount of information present, providing speculation into this subject and I advise you to research with caution, as some of it is damaging to Heath’s character. 

Most importantly, use this time to remember Heath for the incredibly gifted and talented soul that he was. As fans, it is important not only to understand his passing, but to keep his legacy alive through the ways in which we choose to honor and remember him. 

Heath Ledger’s death was a tragedy. His family and friends still grieve his passing and his daughter, Matilda, is without a father due to his premature death. Please be respectful and courteous of this and honor Heath in a way in which he would be proud of. 

Thank you for taking the time to read this lengthy post. With much controversy surrounding Ledger’s death, I felt it necessary to speak out on a couple of things, especially with the anniversary of his death coming up. Please feel free to add onto this post any way you would like, especially if you find more information that is factual and important to share within the community.

 I will reiterate: BE RESPECTFUL. BE COURTEOUS. BE KIND. Do NOT harass his family and friends. Do NOT mock his death. Do NOT share offensive/upsetting images or media that is damaging to his character, now or ever. Respect others who choose to use this time simply to remember this wonderful man for all that he was and do not discuss his passing with anyone who might be triggered by the mentioning of it. 

This community is a loving, caring and amazing place where we choose to remember Heath in our own ways and keep his memory alive through the creations and art we all share. Build each other up and listen to one another; treat each other as if you are looking at Heath directly and show the world the same kindness he showed while he was among us. 

Thank you. 

[slowly-writing]

Hometown

Jennifer Jareau x Reader

Word count: 2.1K

Requested by anon: hey! Can you do a JJ x reader where the BAU works a case where the reader has to go to her hometown and it brings up some difficult things for her but JJ helps her through it?

Warnings: mentions of canon typical violence and a crappy family

“Three women have been found dead in their homes in the last week. Each time the unsub has left an elaborate harddrive at the scene. The locals have been unable to get into them and have requested our help,” Hotch starts the briefing. Everyone looks down at the case files in front of them. You’re all saddened at the brutality of the crimes, but your sharp intake of breath draws all eyes to you.

“You good, y/l/n? It’s bad, but it’s nothing we haven’t seen before,” Morgan says and you shake your head.

“I’m fine,” you snap, and that only confuses them further.

“Obviously you’re not. What’s going on?” Penelope asks and you grit your teeth.

“I said I’m fine Garcia. Just drop it!” There’s a moment of tense silence as everyone tries to process the situation before Hotch continues the briefing. As everyone looks back to the screen JJ grabs your hand under the table. She knows what’s going on, she saw it in the file too. You’re going back to your hometown, and it’s not going to be a nice reunion.

Hotch dismisses the briefing not long after and you dash from the room. Everyone looks to JJ, waiting for her to explain your behavior.

“Spill,” Morgan says and her jaw drops.

“Spill what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she tries to blow it off and is met with several simultaneous eye rolls.

“Spill what’s got your girl all riled up. She’s never snapped like that before. Especially not at me,” Garcia states, crossing her arms and pouting slightly and JJ sighs.

“I know, and I know she’s gonna be beating herself up for it. Just, please be gentle,” she knows how upset you’re gonna be with yourself for taking your frustrations out on your team, and she hopes they won’t hold it against you.

“We’re gonna forgive her. We just wanna know what’s going on,” Rossi tells her.

“The case is in her hometown. She’s got some…not so great memories there. I don’t think she’s quite ready to relive them just yet,” the team all nods in understanding. “But it’s coming one way or the other. Come on, I’m sure she’s halfway to the tarmac by now.”

xxxxx

You had your hands shoved in your pockets as you walked into the precinct. You didn’t want anyone to see how tightly your fists were clenched. You shuffled in behind the rest of the BAU. You hadn’t talked to them yet, but they seemed to have an unspoken agreement to form a barrier between you and the locals, but there was only so much they could do.

“Well if it isn’t little Y/n Gardner, what brings you back to our humble town?” You flinch as the cop throws an arm around your shoulder and ruffles your hair. The rest of the team sends you confused looks for the second, and probably not the last, time of the day.

“I’m here for work, Charlie,” you shrug the man off and straighten your hair.

“Always working, aren’t you? Curious, wanting to solve all the mysteries. That curiosity of yours has caused you some problems in the past. Don’t you think it’s time you let up?” The rest of the team senses the anger in his voice and Hotch steps in.

“Regardless of the past, we have a job to do. Could you lead us to where we can set up?” He asks firmly and Charlie smirks.

“Chief Gardener is probably around here somewhere. He could show you,” he’s looking around and you cut him off.

“I know where the conference room is. We’ll get there on our own,” you say, walking toward the room on the other side of the precinct. You open the door, ushering the team inside with a grimace, “we can set up in here.”

The team is full of questions, but they’re also profilers. They know you’re in no mood to open up to them right now, so they shove the curiosity to the back of their minds and focus on the case.

xxxxx

“Alright, let’s deliver the profile,” Hotch announced to the team. It took everything in you to hold back your groan. Over the last few days you’ve been able to avoid direct contact with local law enforcement. They all had their eyes on you constantly, either sending looks of pity or hate to the girl who divided the town. Mainly you stayed in the conference room. Reid taught you how to build a geographical profile, and you helped Penelope with the computer where you could. You even managed to not be seen by the chief yet, but this briefing would put you right in his line of sight.

You stood up silently and went into the bullpen as Hotch asked the nearest officer to gather everyone. Your plan was to stand in the back and be quiet, but as you saw the man across the room look at you, you realized that wouldn’t be happening.

“The man we’re looking for is-“ Hotch is cut off.

“I wanna hear it from y/n,” the chief says and you clench your jaw.

“Now isn’t the time Jacob. Just shut up and let Agent Hotchner tell you who we’re looking for. The sooner we catch him the sooner I’ll be out of here and you won’t have to worry about me,” you say as calmly as you can.

“And let you ruin another innocent man’s life? I’m not gonna sit by and watch you do to somebody else what you did to dad,” he says, pushing himself off the wall he’s been leaning on and taking a few steps towards you and you snap.

“Dad was a lot of things, but innocent wasn’t one of them,” you can feel yourself losing your cool as you close the gap between the two of you. “He hurt a lot of people, Jake.”

“Oh and you’re quite the reliable source. His bastard daughter. What was it? Daddy didn’t give you enough attention? You had to find another way to get all eyes on you, huh?” he spits out. You’re about to throw a punch, but luckily you’re surrounded by a group of profilers who know you better than anyone. As you go to pull your arm back Derek wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up and quite literally removing you from the situation. When he sets you down a few feet away JJ’s face is in front of yours, her hands on your shoulders.

“Calm down, everything’s alright,” she whispers as you avoid eye contact, brushing her arms off of you.

“I’m fine,” you say for the hundredth time this week and take off, going outside to get some air. You make your way to the back alley, furiously rubbing at your face and trying to stop the tears you can feel building up. JJ is the first one outside and you don’t fight her this time as she pulls you into her arms. You bury your face in her shoulder as the tears start to fall. You’re exhausted from trying to keep it all in, both physically and emotionally, and soon you’re sobbing so hard you’re starting to hyperventilate.

“Hey, look at me, right at me. Just focus on my voice,” JJ says as she pulls away and takes your hand, placing it on her chest. “Just follow my breathing love, you’re okay.”

After a few minutes you’re able to get breathing back in check, and you latch onto JJ again. You hear the door open and your whole body goes rigid, not ready to face Jacob yet.

“Hey, it’s just us. We wanted to check on you,” Spencer’s voice is barely above a whisper, as if talking to a spooked animal.

“I’m okay,” you mumble, pulling away from JJ and wiping the tears away in embarrassment. You still keep a tight grip on her hand, but your gaze is on the floor.

“You don’t have to hide from us. We all get it,” Penelope says and you smile a bit.

“I guess you want an explanation,” you say with a self deprecating laugh, hating that you’ve ended up in this situation.

“Only if you’re ready,” Hotch gives you an out, but you don’t take it.

“No, I want you all to know. It’s just kind of a long story.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world, babygirl.” You roll your eyes at Derek’s nickname before speaking again.

“That was my brother in there. He’s a few years older than me. Our dad cheated on his mom with mine when he was six and they had me. My mom died when I was four and I went to go live with my dad. None of them particularly liked me. Ever since I moved in there had been problems between my dad and Jacob’s mom. She pretended I didn’t exist and my dad…well I wished he did. He beat up on me pretty bad, but he was the chief of police, so everyone turned a blind eye. When I was nine I found out my dad was involved in some pretty shady stuff. Drug dealing, embezzlement, you name it he was probably doing it,” you explain and Penelope speaks up.

“How does a nine year old figure that out?” She asks and you look away again. JJ squeezes your hand drawing your eyes to her as she puts the pieces together. You can see the question in her eyes and you just nod, you can do this.

“I uh…I found his stash. I saw some powder in this little bag in his room and I thought it was candy, like a pixie stick or something. So I hid it in my pocket when he wasn’t looking. I was at the station after school, sitting in the conference room actually, when I went to eat it. I poured some on my tongue, the second I tasted it I spit it out. I came running into the bullpen yelling ‘Dad why does your candy taste funny?’ and waving the bag around. He panicked, started screaming at me, calling me every name in the book right there in front of the whole precinct. Half the guys still work here…I still don’t know if it’s the cocaine that I ingested or the fear of having him lose it, probably a bit of both, but I passed out. They had to rush me to the hospital. The one here doesn’t have a pediatric unit so they had to take me to the county one. When an ambulance came in with a little kid and half a dozen cop cars following it, the doctors had some questions. It launched a whole investigation. There was a whole ring here in town and a lot of people went down. It’s not like I was trying to break it apart, I was nine. I wasn’t investigating it. It was an accident but I sure got blamed. I had to testify at his trial. I knew the way he treated me was’t right, but I didn’t realize I was digging his grave a bit deeper with every word I said until a few years ago. Last I heard he was doing fifteen to twenty years. He should be up for parole soon,” you realize, and you start to spiral, staring off into space and wondering what will happen when he gets out. JJ calling your name pulls you back into reality.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I ended up living with an aunt after all that. I went by my mom’s last name, legally changed it when I turned eighteen. I kept my head down and worked my ass off. I graduated high school at 16 and never looked back. If I had I might know how the hell Jacob was able to get a job in this precinct, let alone run it,” you finish and before anyone can speak Penelope has practically tackled you into a hug.

“Did you know any of this?” Rossi’s question is directed at JJ and she lets out a sigh.

“I knew she had a bad experience with drugs as a kid. She freaks out whenever I leave a bottle of tylenol where Henry can see it, that makes sense now. I knew it was because of her father. And I knew she wasn’t on speaking terms with any of her family,” JJ lists off and you feel your eyes starting to water once again.

“It’s not something I talk about. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you.” JJ shakes her head, cupping your cheek in her hand.

“I’m not mad. It was your story to tell me when you were ready,” she places a kiss on your forehead  and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Alright, let’s go catch this son of a bitch so we can get the hell out of here,” you say and the team agrees, heading back into the building with a renewed desire to close this case. 

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @5aftermidnight @im-salt-but-not-salty @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

Criminal minds tag list: @reidingandwriting

[zigtheeortega]

calm before the storm

✿ pairing: bryce x mc

✿ word count: 2.5k

✿ warnings: loss, death, funeral – angst.

✿ author’s note: i didn’t necessarily think that bryce was written ooc, but the whole post-funeral sequence was pretty weird to me. i’m someone who copes very similarly to bryce, so i could see myself reflected in him a lot. and i thought the s*x scene was very oddly placed so, here’s me warping canon again bc i’m dissatisfied! lmao hope u enjoy <3 also this fic is very close to me emotionally – i experienced two close deaths in april and june. 

•─────────✦✿✦────────•

Since the moment his hands trembled amidst one of the most important surgeries of his life, Bryce was holding on by a thread.

With each half-assed joke he cracked, each wavering smile, each time he tried convincing others – including himself – that he was coping, he fell apart more and more.

The first night he went home after Spencer was quarantined, he trudged through the halls of Edenbrook, like he was dragging his legs through wet concrete. He was nearly magnetized to her bedside, not wanting to leave, but he needed to rest – he’d been awake for nearly a day and a half by the time he clocked out.

He blinked and he was back home. Couldn't remember how he got there. He was on autopilot and didn’t have a clue until he’d already wasted so much time. When night came, he couldn’t recall what he’d done that day.

The days between the diagnostics team finding a cure were torturous, the mere thought of not knowing what the future held – for the first time in his life – shaking him to his core.

He found himself paying close attention to Keiki. Each sarcastic quip, rude comment, or joke at his expense, he listened, soaking it up, no thoughts about the problem back in Hawaii. He whole-heartedly enjoyed her. Through one of the hardest times in his life, he was rekindling a relationship that never should’ve fallen apart.

The night he spent with Spencer, cuddled up next to her in his starchy hazmat suit, was the most daunting of them all. He was smiling and flirting with her, a little bit of his normal self shining through, but the crushing weight of his reality was distracting him.

This could be the last time that you see her smile.

God, he knew he had a killer smile of his own, but hers put the whole damn sun to shame. Her grin lit up her whole body, like every atom in her body was in it. And despite her sunken in eyes, her pale, sickly appearance, she still emitted those same infectious rays that he was eager to soak up.

This could be the last time that you hold her.

He curled himself around her, spooning her like he’d done a handful of times before. What he wouldn’t give to have a faceful of her hair again, the tropical scent so familiar to him that he couldn’t help but associate the scent of coconut with her.

This could be the last time that you feel her.

He stroked her face with a gloved hand, wishing for nothing more than to feel her smooth skin beneath his fingertips again. He pressed into her, hoping she could feel his warmth through the thin layer of fabric.

When her eyelids finally fluttered shut, overcome with exhaustion, his mind wandered to the possibility of it all being over.

And he couldn’t cope with that.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to.

When the treatment worked, and both she and Rafael were cured, it was the first time in months he’d experienced genuine joy. He didn’t know what higher power out there was looking out for him, but he silently thanked the universe for looking out for her. And for putting her in his life, and decidedly keeping her there.

The funeral was too much for him.

Seeing the two caskets, sealed tight, the endless arrangements of flowers, the sea of black clothing… it was overwhelming. Foreign. Like he was intruding on something so intimate that wasn’t meant for him to see.

And the sounds. He’d never forget it. Choked sobs from every angle, constant sniffling, a sporadic wail. The atmosphere made him antsy. His suit was itchy, his shoes were uncomfortable, and he was surrounded by grief.

Both Danny and Bobby meant a lot to Edenbrook, but it was nothing compared to what Spencer meant to him.

He must’ve slipped into auto-pilot (again), because before he knew it, the funeral was over, and he was outside of her apartment.

Wordlessly, he wrapped her in his arms, burying his face in her shoulder, the smell of her shampoo enough to bring him to tears. He was so fucking close to losing that forever. His free will to kiss her, to touch her, to hold her.

She invited him in, and every step to her room felt like each string that held him together was snapping, his sutures buckling under the weight he carried.

He was digging deep, trying to pull any kind of genuine quip from within him, to maybe – just maybe – convince Spencer he was okay.

But did he want to keep her in the dark?

Opening up was so fucking hard for him. Either he was a burden or he was let down by the people he confided in.

Trustworthiness was hard to come by, and Bryce knew that. That’s why Spencer was the first to know about Keiki, about his parents, about him. Not entirely, since he wasn’t ready for that just yet, but he was getting there.

It was a slow process, and he revered Spencer’s patience. Not once did she get upset with him for not sharing every detail.

And he almost fucking lost that.

His torturous inner monologue that he worked so hard to bury showed up when Keiki did. Guilt ate him alive, anxiety gnawed his insides, and regret feasted on whatever was left.

His mind was a hurricane, angry waves crashing painfully against his subconscious, the storm surge from his repeated trauma more than he could handle alone.

The one person he should’ve let in was almost taken from him, ripped from him like a surfboard after a wipeout.

He was drowning, and he flicked away the only hand that was outstretched for him.

And he almost fucking lost her.

The moment Spencer’s brows furrowed at whatever unconvincing mask he had plastered on his features, he broke.

His throat ached and flexed as he tried to choke back the tears, but he just… couldn’t.

Fuck, you’re so weak. He cursed at himself as the tears started flowing, warm streaks trailing down his bronzed skin, vision blurred like his head was under water. This isn’t about you.

The one time deflection was warranted, he broke down into a blubbering heap at her feet.

Like the angel she was, Spencer coaxed his body towards the bed, settling him against the down comforter before his legs buckled beneath him.

She gathered him in her arms, holding him exactly like he needed (like he wanted, but he didn’t want to admit it out loud).

She held him like he held her – like it was the last time.

The revelation tore him up inside, knowing she’d never take a second of their time together for granted again.

He pulled back, running a shaky hand through his hair, loose strands clinging to his damp forehead.

“I normally can hold it together better.” “You don’t have to do that around me, Bryce. You know that,” she encouraged, eyes still red-rimmed from the funeral.

“You’re the one that almost died, and I’m sitting here crying letting you comfort me,” he laughed through a sob, bouncing his leg on the ground nervously.

“You watched me almost die,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “You’re allowed to be upset.”

His chin wobbled, and he rolled his lips to mask it. He took a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “Spencer, I – have you ever…” He trailed off. Why was this so fucking hard?

“Have I been through this before?”

“Yeah,” was all he could manage.

She nodded. “Have you?”

“No.”

She nodded again.

“It’s making me think about my life… and the people in it. And things I could’ve done differently… better.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I saw you in that room, after the gas started affecting you, and your face… it –” he bit his lip to hold back a soft sob. “It got me thinking about everything that we didn’t do.”

“Bryce…” she laced her fingers in his, rubbing her thumb methodically over his skin.

“We’ve barely seen each other this year, Spencer. I got caught up with Keiki, and trying to figure shit out, and –” he searched her eyes, tears welling up again. “When I saw you in that room, nothing else mattered.”

“More than one thing can be important to you –”

“You’re important to me, Spence. You deserve better than what I’ve given you this year,” he shook his head, tears spilling over. “I can’t lose you.”

“You aren’t losing me, Bryce. I’m right here,” she practically cooed, trying her best to soothe him.

“I shouldn’t be the one being comforted right now. Please,” he whispered.

She pulled back, scooting backward onto the bed to cross her legs, as he stood up, pacing.

“It’s like I’m fucking up left and right with the people who matter to me,” he fisted his pockets, avoiding her eyes as he strode across the room.

“You of all people should know that you can’t take the blame for things that are out of your control,” she murmured softly, tugging at a loose string at the hem of her dress.

“I know I can’t control it and that’s why it makes me want to tear my fucking hair out,” he said through gritted teeth, biting back tears. He didn’t want to cry anymore, but his body had other ideas.

“Bryce, you couldn’t have stopped a bursting gas canister. Nobody could’ve stopped it.”

“That’s not what I’m frustrated over. I’m… I don’t know how to say it without sounding like a dick and making this about me. There’s a lot going through my head right now,” he laughed humorlessly, stopping in the middle of the room directly across from the bed.

“Talk it out with me. I’ve got time,” she smiled encouragingly, folding her hands in her laps politely, like the angel she was.

God, sometimes he was thankful for his parent’s demonic behavior, because if not for the bad karma the Lahela’s accumulated, there’s no way in hell the universe would’ve balanced itself out by placing an angel like her in his path.

“On the one hand I’m angry at myself for not spending time with you like I should’ve,” he chewed his lip for a second, trying to gather his thoughts, before speaking again slowly. “I could’ve lost you and I was more worried about keeping secrets from everyone and dealing with shit on my own, you know? Which I never should’ve done.”

“But you didn’t and still don’t have to tell me anything. You’re allowed to have boundaries,” she interjected calmly.

“But maybe… maybe I don’t want that anymore,” he shrugged out of his tux jacket, draping it over the back of her desk chair as he spoke. “You still barely know Keiki. I barely know Keiki. And I holed myself up when you were waiting there with open arms. I don’t know. Maybe I just didn’t want to burden anybody? I don’t know.” He repeated, downplaying his own self–realization.

“And I’m frustrated because I don’t… know how to deal with this,” he gestured around the room, then to himself. “How to wrap my brain around all of it. This was the first time I lost anybody like this.”

“I wasn’t even super close to Danny and Bobby,” he continued, shoving his hands in his pockets to calm his shaking hands.

“Losing people is always hard. Doesn’t matter how close or distant you are to somebody,” she said, trying to hold his eyes, but he could barely look at her.

He’d never opened up like this before. He was so vulnerable… so exposed, and he was afraid. Afraid she’d run away. That she’d bolt the second he plopped his thick suitcases filled to the brim, nearly bursting with emotional baggage from the past two decades.

“I’m sad about losing them, definitely, and going to a funeral for the first time in my life really fucked with my head but… fuck, I’m gonna sound like such an asshole,” he willed himself to look up from his shoes, staring intently at her. “None of that even comes close to what I felt when I thought I’d lost you.”

“Kyra was hanging on by a thread while I thought you were –” he choked, pressing his lips in a firm line to stop his sobs, which escaped through his nose in short breaths instead.

“I’ve never felt pressure like that. And my life has been nothing but pressure.” The words were freely flowing from him, like a dam held together by a few twigs, snapping to release a flood that neither of them anticipated.

“You had to run towards your problems, not away from them,” she whispered, like she wasn’t sure if he’d agree. But the moment the words left her lips, it was like the puzzle pieces fell into place for him.

Maui should’ve been his safe haven, but from the moment his parents were exposed in every form of news throughout Hawaii, he was itching to leave. The island fever settled into his bones and never left. It was an ever present anxiety he struggled with despite finding a home in Boston, Edenbrook, and Spencer.

When shit went down back home, he ran. When people found out who he was states away from the fallout, he ran. It was predictable, methodical, like an appendectomy. The same muscle memory that sliced skin and fastened sutures with delicate precision pumped his legs until he was as far away from his problems as he could get.

“Everytime I lost somebody, it was because I chose to. This time it was like something was being ripped away from me, and I couldn’t handle it,” Bryce said, a profound statement that caused a pained whimper to escape his lips.

“Bry…” She breathed, scooting to the edge of the bed, gently tugging at his shirt sleeve to pull him down to sit on the comforter.

“You don’t have to have all the answers right now, alright? And you don’t have to carry all of this alone. I’m here. You’ve got all of us,” she said, motioning towards the walls of the apartment. “Sometimes just letting it out can take the weight off your shoulders. And you’ve got a heavy load, Bryce.”

She rubbed soothing circles on his back, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I’m not leaving you.”

He held her eye, doe-eyed gaze piercing – Spencer could see right through him, and god did he love feeling seen.

There was nothing he could say to thank her properly for putting aside her feelings to listen to him for a few minutes. Those few minutes where he unleashed a small portion of the shit he’d been building up for years.

So instead he did what he’d been craving since the moment he saw her behind the glass.

He pulled her into a frenzied kiss, pouring every part of himself into the embrace, wrapping him in her arms like she belonged there, as if he was saying “I’m not leaving you, either. You’re safe now.”

––––

taglist: @pixeljazzy ; @raleiighcarrera ; @senatorraines ; @felix-hauville ; @violinet ; @empressazura ; @serafinedupont ; @messofakind ; @altairadtaz ; @hudush ; @solarbridge ; @adriansbiss ; @bellarxse ; @havennly ; @writinghereandthere ; @levineseth ; @lahellacute ; @michellesnguyen ; @kelseaaa ; @natesewels ; @lucas-koh ; @rainesenator ; @montjoy ; @bryceslahela ; @crestfallenpixie ; @dudebro-lahela ; @ezekielbhandarivalleros ; @lgbtiangley ; @part-of-the-circus ; @nazariolahela ; @hazel-nguyen ; @la-huerta ; @adamdusmortain ; @thepotatobleh ; @distinguishedsaladoperawinner ; @bobbymckenzie ; @catsomi ; @neptunesascendant ; @pixelsandkink

[if i missed you, i wasn’t able to tag your url! i tagged anybody who interacted w the post so if you want to be removed please let me know]

[dreamylyfe-x]

what is your unpopular 11.06 opinion we want to hear more 😎

Ahhhh. I really don’t know how this one is going to go over. Part of the problem in conveying it is that I know my reaction is deeply rooted in my own childhood. Which was not standard. And the people who disagree with me might have their own non-standard childhoods which feed their opinion. So no one’s not valid, but... I haven’t seen anyone say this, so here goes. 

Regarding this exchange in 11x06:

Mickey: Well, Frank wasn’t a homophobic psychopath who tortured you for years. 

Ian: No, he’s just an emotionally abusive alcoholic who stole my money for drugs, broke my nose, tried to profit off my mania... 

Mickey: I guess we both had shit dads. Let’s get the fuck out of here. 

I’ve seen people say Ian shouldn’t have said this -- like very angry that he did -- because Frank doesn’t compare to Terry and I guess it minimizes Mickey’s experience for him to point out the ways that Frank sucks. And the pushback I’ve seen is that Ian can absolutely say that because Frank and Terry both suck. 

I get that. But I also don’t think that's what Ian is doing and I don’t think that’s how Mickey hears it. 

I think I need something like the Vicky Mendoza Diagonal to explain what I mean here, so for that sake and that sake only -- let’s say there are only two kinds of families. There are families where the parenting is acceptable-to-great, and then there are families where the parenting is poor-to-terrible. Basically you have your “authorities won’t get involved” families and your “authorities SHOULD get involved” families. Ian and Mickey are both in Group B. 

But. Everyone who watches the show knows this. What has stuck out for me about the conversation about this particular exchange is that I haven’t seen much talk about how profoundly alienating can be to be from Group B. First you have the fun stuff that accompanies a traumatic childhood: instability, anxiety, depression, PTSD, complex PTSD, compromised coping strategies, a lack of support, a general uncertainty about what is and isn’t “normal” for most people... the list goes on. 

But you ALSO have to deal with how Group A interacts with your more public trauma. And, armed with that information, the way they act can be bizarre. And I realize I’m getting personal here, but I feel like if you DON’T have a publicly known trauma you might honestly never experience having people say things to you like “You help me remember how lucky I am.” 

(I have honestly heard that so many times. I truly do not know why people say this to me. It is not helpful. I am not helping them remember that they are lucky on purpose. I am just having weird/bad things happen to me within their view.) 

So. Here is Mickey have a very emotional moment on the street in front of the house and three whole Gallaghers. The one with tact and a Terry-Milkovich-fathered-ex ducks behind the ambulance to give Mickey some privacy. And Ian, his husband, reaches out. He touches his shoulder and Mickey is like iron. He asks him if he’s ok and Mickey doesn’t tell him to fuck off. Instead Mickey, who never talks about this father, says it’s “weird” to see Terry like that. And then lists various acts of revenge he could visit on Terry while nearly vibrating with suppressed emotion. There’s a lot of anger, but there’s something else there, too. It could be a lot of things. I read grief. There is some kind of loss for Mickey in what’s happened to Terry. Not because of anything Terry ever gave him -- maybe because of things Terry never gave him that now definitively never will -- but whatever it is, Mickey’s feelings surrounding Terry in that moment are complicated. 

And who is going to understand those feelings? Or help Mickey make sense of them? None of these other Milkoviches are Terry’s son. Mickey is the only person from that immediate family left in Southside. He is really going through this moment alone. 

But. He has Ian. Who knows more than almost anyone what Terry is like. Who has witnessed some of the worst things Terry has done. Who knows Mickey doesn’t like to talk about his father and respects it. And who, in this moment, validates Mickey’s grief -- the far less comprehensible emotion to Mickey -- over his anger. And then, when Mickey pushes back with the reason he has to be angry at Terry in a way that isolates himself from Ian, Ian responds by pointing out what they have in common. Terry’s worse, but they both are from the Brotherhood of Men With Bad Dads. Ian doesn’t share Mickey’s trauma but he knows the shape of it. He knows how to interact with Mickey about it better than anyone. Ian understand insecurity and scarcity and violence in the home, and in that moment Mickey understanding what he and Ian share is more important than focusing on what no one can share with Mickey.

Not everyone is going to feel that way in Mickey’s shoes. But we have pretty heavy indications that this is how Mickey feels, because of how the rest of the episode unfolds. Mickey never loses it with Ian. Ian lets Mickey decide what they are going to do, and only intervenes -- gently -- when he thinks Mickey is going to suffer for his actions. This provides the space where Mickey gets to work through his feelings -- mostly silently -- and eventually make his choice about how he’s going to deal with it.  

There is our trauma, and there is our shame about our trauma and then there is the weight of people who will judge both those things with no real context for them. Those three things together are exhausting. In that moment, I think there was real value for Mickey in having his experience normalized just that little bit. Just that whatever else he was dealing with in that moment, he was not standing next to someone who didn’t understand hating your father. I think Mickey wants this to be a thing he and Ian have in common. It’s part of why they can belong to each other so totally. Ian isn’t here to tell Mickey what makes him a freak. He’s here to give him space to feel however he needs to feel. And I truly do get why people don’t see that moment that way. I do. But I see more value for Mickey in what Ian did rather than what he didn’t do. 

[gnarf]

Gnarf’s 2020

and what a fucking year that was... Anyways, let’s talk about the good things, shall we?

I made it through 2020 alive and without going insane! Yay! So lets see what else I did. (This is a long post)

In the beginning of 2020 I said I won’t participate in many fests. Only three or something like that. Lets check how that went!

Fests Gnarf participated in: 9

@lockdownfest @lcdrarry @hd-wireless @hpfluff-fest @hd-hurtfest @hd-fan-fair @hd-erised @gameofdrarry in drarropoly @wireless-festive-minifest​

Haha yup, three. Sounds legit. I also wandered off to try if I can art! No worries, I gave that up :D Mad respect to all Artists, arting is exhausting and the progress is too slow for me.

If you really want to check out my attempts, here’s what made its way onto AO3:

Dont Blink! for LCDrarry, it includes the Angels from Doctor Who and was a pain in the arse.

If you knew... was made for H/D Wireless and has the armiest arm i ever saw, very proud of that one. Its also the last thing I made.

Home Sweet Home was also made for H/D Wireless, and the first bigger art piece I tried my hand on.

A muffled groan which is rather explicit and I entirely forgot about making it :D it has a ficlet going with it too.

(I think theres other Art stuff here with the tag #gnarf draws or something)

I reached my yearly goal of writing 100k words once again!

Fics and Ficlets I wrote this year: 20(ish)

Better Side of the Bed (Lock Down Fest, T, 2k)

It was all Malfoy's fault. Harry could be at the Burrow right now, but instead he was trapped in Malfoy's tiny flat. All because that dick couldn't stop bothering him about a stupid life debt he didn't even care about.

Doing What's Best (G, ~800 words)

Lucius looked down at the little bundle currently sleeping in Narcissa's arms and felt terror shoot through his body. A little boy, his hair so white it was nearly invisible. Born only a few hours ago, taking his first breath in the light of the rising sun. Narcissa had whispered a welcome, her eyes wet, her smile bigger than ever. But they both knew, even though temporarily safe, he really wasn't. Draco was born into a world ruled by war. If only it'd end soon.

I better be hallucinating this (T, 3.8k)

After the war Draco Malfoy is sentenced to Azkaban for a really long sentence. Apparently aiding in Dumbledore's death overrules any argument Harry could put up for him. After the trial, as the days pass by, Harry is more and more outraged at the sentence. He can't stop obsessing over the fact that Draco Malfoy saved his life and aided him during the war and is very much capable of redemption. Not to mention that Malfoy has always been a delicate git and would never survive Azkaban. After a few weeks obsessing Harry decides that Malfoy indeed can't remain unjustly in Azkaban and starts to plot a way to break him out of jail and hide him in Grimmauld Place. When Hermione finds out she's not amused. Ron is horrified. Draco still thinks he's hallucinating.

Keep Holding On (Wireless, M. 33.333) A collab with @maesterchill​ who surprised me with lovely art for it!

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco both fall into their own battles with their mental states. Draco is sent to Azkaban, and Harry turns to drinking, hoping to forget. Months later, Harry visits St Mungo’s new ward on the request of a friend, only to find Draco in a deep vegetative state. Not willing to give him up, Harry stays by his side, while simultaneously dealing with the Ministry's newest grand idea to make everything worse. Making new allies, and losing old ones along the way, will hopefully be worth it in the end.

Age is just a number (Fluff Fest, T, 1.5k)

Married for decades, their life is perfect. Until Harry gets a call and hears the following words: "Mr Potter, we caught your husband stealing ten large packs of King Sized condoms."

There was still hope (Hurt Fest, M, 3.1k)

Draco winced as pain shot through his leg with every step. This secret, back-alley laboratory had been his last chance, last hope, to find the potion. But nobody had it in stock, and there was no time left to brew it himself. Panic was slowly overtaking his entire mind as he crept out of the store and back to the nearest alley to Apparate back home. He already felt off, and it was still early in the day. Of course this thestral-shit had to happen to him, of all people. As if life wasn't bad enough for him already.

Desire (E, 1.7k)

"Auror Potter, what a pleasant surprise to meet you here. What can I do for you?" "Stop the show, Malfoy. There's no one around, and I'm not here as an Auror." Draco watched Potter move closer until they were nearly nose to nose, only the small counter of his shop kept Potter at distance. Potter's eyes were dark with something Draco couldn't exactly name, his face was flushed and the air surrounding him felt somehow static. Draco felt the urge to lean further over his counter, to drink in his sight, to touch the man on the other side—but he didn't.

Drarropoly 2020 currently holds 7 ficlets and is in a Series. The highest rating is Mature and its 3.2k in total at this point.

Let's not wait for France (Fan Fair, T, 17.7k)

All Harry had wanted from his Eighth year at Hogwarts was a little peace and a little privacy but, from the moment that he stepped onto Platform 9 3/4, it was obvious that nothing was ever going to be that easy. An accidental bond with Malfoy that resulted in them having to stay together at all times was the final straw. Things couldn't be worse. So much to a quiet year in Hogwarts.

Love letters for the oblivious (Mini Wireless, T, 716 words)

Draco had gotten the strangest letters all week long, which wasn't what anyone needed at Christmas. Especially not him. Either someone was taking the piss, or he had a very dumb and inefficient secret admirer. And Draco didn't know which would be worse.

Double-Booked (Mini Wireless, T, 2.1k)

Finally, peace and quiet, and— "Malfoy?!?" Or the one where Harry thought he could enjoy a quiet Christmas far from everyone, just to find out that the cabin he had booked already accommodated another guest.

The best Christmas he ever had (Mini WirelessT, 1.9k)

Christmas had never been less appealing to him than this year. That was until Arthur Weasley showed up at his door, dressed as Santa, inviting him to the Burrow.

Anon Fests to be added

Whoever made it to this point: yoooo! Friend! Lots of love to you! I also got tagged in many get to know me posts, plenty of love in my Inbox giving me love slaps left and right (honestly, im bruised, stop slapping me), amazing person awards, top 5 fics, and whatever you can think of.

To make up for not answering most of them because I’m a horrible person:

My favourite colour: purple My age: I’ll be 30 next year in April, I expect gifts, I don’t accept first borns My favourite trope: eight year My favourite animal: cat My favourite ice cream: Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough Here’s my writing Playlist, it’s the worst you’ll ever see, and yes, I use YouTube, I’m old.

Other things that happened in 2020 that made me happy:

I kicked out my mentally/emotionally abusive partner of 7 years in January

I kept my grandma alive through this *waves hand at world*

I was able to share my birthday cake with my family becaus I got to leave my first quarantine a few days before my birthday

I got to keep my job

I found a lot of lovely friends in this fandom, and got to keep them through this year

My cats are their usual little jerks and actually enjoyed me being at home due to the raging pandemic

I finally cut off my hair

I’m about to hit 3.5k followers here and I love you all

I’m also tagging everyone who sees this and wants to do something similiar! Show us what you did in 2020, the things you’re proud of, and the things you loved! Let’s spread some happy for the end of the year 💜🥰

[writerrachelspangler]

The long awaited book release

So, I wrote a book. I mean it’s my 18th book, so like the book writing itself isn’t a surprise, it’s sort of my job, but the fact that I got this particular book written and published is a big deal.  

For the like 4 of you who actually follow this haphazard Tumblr, you know that I started my account because I’d been in a massive writing funk since my friend Diane Gaidry died. I hadn’t felt even remotely cohesive in my creativity for almost a year. I’d already abandoned two other projects in that time. And when I found Tumblr I wasn’t trying to do my job at all. I was mostly laying on my couch, grief stricken and watching too much Gentleman Jack. It was really that show and the fandom surrounding it that made me want to start writing again.  

If you read my early posts here they’re filled with both trepidation and hope, and totally interspersed with GJ fandom reblogs, along with the occasional gushing about other things that got in the way of being a functioning professional (I’m looking at you gender dysphoria and conservative family members).

This was not the novel writing process I’d ever known or would recommend to an aspiring author. It went against everything I’d ever learned about how to be successful in my field. Tumblr is not well organized, does not facilitate strong focus, it doesn’t conform to high ideas of craft or form. It’s not filled with serious topics to hone the mind or sharpen creative stamina, (at least not the way I follow it). Most of all it draws more heavily on the work of others than anyone who fears copy right lawsuits should ever be comfortable with. For me Tumble was pure fandom, the exact thing people warned would lead to the watering down of my voice and derivative story telling. And yet, the voices I found here were also so unapologetically enthusiastic I dove right in, not in spite of all those things, but because of them! The content I used as a crutch was passionate, unrepentantly whimsical, and wildly joyous in ways I desperately longed to be again. And I’ll be damned if it didn’t work

At first I would write like two paragraphs of my own work then, totally exhausted and emotionally spent, I’d zip over here to emote and/or distract myself for the rest of the day. Many of my colleagues posted about their own impressive progress, and shook their heads at me. But just like learning to ride a bike with training wheels I got less wobbly as I went. I grew more confident, and a picked up speed. Soon queer Tumblr became less of a distraction and more of a reward for a job well done. Then it became a way to unwind after a full day of writing. I leaned on the mental/emotion supports less and less, until one day I realized the training wheels had fallen off and the writing had actually become it’s own inherent support system. 

From there I took off, and the book took off, too. Modern English not only finished strong on the first draft stage, it flew threw edits, and copy edits, and early reviewers. Everyone who got their hands on it talked about how it was just “one of those special books.” The kind that reads like an effortless gift from the muse.  

I still don’t know if I should laugh or cry when they stay that.

Nothing about this was easy. Nothing about it was normal. This was a mess of absurdity, heart wrenching, teeth gnashing, and clinging to random lesbian period romance memes with all of my fingernails. 

It wasn’t even until recent weeks that I could loosen my white knuckled grip and breathe deeply enough to look in the rearview mirror at how far I’ve come. Reading my early posts now is humbling. I couldn’t see the path forward from there, which I suppose makes sense. I was so lost, but after I found my way again I forgot to bring you all forward with me.

I’m sorry for that. Once I started writing on the book in earnest I stopped writing here.  And I’m not sure anyone particularly cares, but it didn’t seem right to just ghost Tumblr.  Y’all deserve better.  At least a few of you took me at my worst, so you deserve to see me at my best.

So here you go. Here’s the full circle moment. The culmination of the crying, and crazy random fandom, and deep dives into obsession, and therapy style blogs, and my complete submersion into the queer content sections, and my trying to wrestle all of that into something that meant something, something I could make sense of, and something I could give back to the community that gave so damn much to me.

Modern English, my 18th full-length, women loving women romance novel is now available wherever great queer romances are sold.  

The reviews are rolling in, and every one who reads it assure me no one would ever know what I went through while writing. 

But I know, and you all know too.  

So thank you. 

https://www.amazon.com/Modern-English-Rachel-Spangler-ebook/dp/B08NWF3RC7/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=Rachel+Spangler+Modern+English&qid=1613866103&sr=8-1

[amelialincoln]

Helpless pt.2

prompt: @amelialincoln Can you write a fic where amelia is trying to shut link out but link will not let her!

Amelia watched the clouds get dark as she lay with her face upturned to the sky. Jackson and Alex came back about an hour later. Their arms filled with rubbish from the crash. Amelia felt strangely comforted by having Jo pressed against her side. Once she finished screaming, she slept most of the day. She heard Alex and Mer talking about how something might have triggered her psychotic break. Amelia was just relieved to have the worried muffles be about someone other than herself. She ghosted her hand over her tender stomach. The baby was so tiny, so young. She couldn’t help but imagine the worst. She’d done a good job of not getting too attached though, it was Link she was worried about.

Nico hadn’t remembered ever seeing his boss not be optimistic. He was kind of a pessimist himself so Link’s positive behaviour sometimes pissed him off. However, seeing him crouched over with his head in his hands upon entering a random on call room, he couldn’t help but blurt out “what’s wrong” in confusion. Link looked up in surprise. His eyes were red and his shaggy hair was disheveled opposed to neatly styled. Nico could only imagine how shocked he must look.

“Uh nothing,” Link answered, looking away. “You can go home. We’re done for the day.” He wasn’t surprised when Nico left the room quickly, not usually one to show emotion. It had been six hours and they’d heard nothing. He couldn’t leave the hospital because he wanted to be there if they got  updates from the rescue team. But they hadn’t found them or even a single trace of them. Link prodded his swollen knuckles. He’d never felt more helpless. He wasn’t necessarily religious but he prayed with everything he knew that they’d be found before nightfall.

“Wake up, Amelia.” She awoke to Mer’s aggressive shaking and moaned in response as a flash of red hot pain radiated from her chest. “Sorry, you have to stay awake,” she urged, awkwardly crawling to be beside her sister, despite her limp leg. Amelia’s extremities were starting to cramp from the lack of mobility. She hadn’t left her spot against the log in hours, lying as still as possible. Luckily they had Jackson, who was an avid camper and had managed to light a fire that was still burning from the afternoon.

“I’m going to collect some dry wood in case it rains tonight,” Jackson mumbled from somewhere behind her.

“I’ll come with you,” Alex offered, weary about letting the plastic surgeon go alone, despite being exhausted.

“Alex,” Jo practically wailed in protest.

“Just stay, dude,” Jackson sighed. Alex didn’t argue, leaning back to wrap his arms around Jo, who nestled into his chest.

“Do you think they’ll call off searches for the night?” Amelia coughed, receiving a worried look from Meredith who added another layer of bandages on her chest from a first aid kit the boys had found.

“I don’t know,” Mer responded truthfully.

Bailey finally let him come back into the conference room after about an hour of Link texting her and trying to convince her he’d stay calm. He received a couple concerned looks as he entered the room, suddenly embarrassed by his tender hand and Owen’s bruised face. Maggie patted the spot beside her, sympathizing for her sister’s emotionally wrecked looking boyfriend. He nodded gratefully and slipped into the seat beside her, trying to look unassuming. Catherine was speaking in front of the group. Link hadn’t even realized that her son was a part of the group. Jackson always seemed to slip subtly under the radar. However if Catherine was worried, she didn’t seem to show it. Instead she stood calmly in front of the group, discussing their options. Link was sure it was from years of practice but couldn’t imagine ever being able to seem so composed if it were his son that were missing. The baby. The thought would strike him every so often, full force, and he swooned a bit in his seat. She’s strong, his mind screamed and he took a swing from the water bottle in front of him.

“What do you think?” Catherine’s voice brought him back to reality and his eyes widened as he realized she was speaking to him.

“What?” He choked out, receiving a couple glances from the people sitting around the table. God he was sweaty, he found himself thinking.

“We’re trying to decide whether to send them to the nearest hospital or risk transferring them here when they’re found,” Maggie explained, he was thankful she didn’t say ‘if’.

“Transfer them,” he replied simply, not knowing why it was even a question. Bailey nodded at him from across the table, agreeing.

“We can’t make that call until we know what condition they’re in,” Owen argued.

“Do what you want with the others,” Link shrugged at him. “Amelia’s coming here.”

“I’m still her emergency contact,” Owen gulped, hoping Link wouldn’t rage at him.

“Only because she hasn’t had the chance to change it,” Link spat. “I’m the father of her baby.”

“Boys,” Catherine warned. “We just want the best for everyone. I agree that if they’re in bad shape we want them to get care immediately. But it’s likely they’re in the middle of nowhere considering they haven’t been found and I don’t want to put their lives at stake in some random hospital with limited technology.”

“I agree with Doctor Lincoln,” Bailey finally found her voice, receiving a supportive gesture from Richard. It was settled, they were coming here.

Amelia was beginning to drift in and out of consciousness, becoming unresponsive to Meredith’s attempts to keep her awake. She could barely lift her head without a wave of exhaustion forcing her back down. She supposed it was due to blood loss. So she barely noticed when flashlights flooded the ‘campsite’. Jo started uncontrollably sobbing as the rescue team descended upon the group. The helicopter came shortly after. Amelia was lifted into a stretcher, an oxygen mask placed over her face. She took in ragged breaths and finally let herself fall completely asleep.

As the group was brought into the vacant emergency room, long after midnight, almost every doctor waited for their arrival. There hadn’t been much communication so Bailey called in everyone just in case. Link eyes immediately found Amelia. So limp he almost cried out in horror before seeing the small puff of air escape her lungs and appear in the oxygen mask secured around her mouth and nose. Carina patted his back sympathetically before moving past him to tend to her. Link numbly followed, taking her hand in his and giving it a supportive squeeze. Her eyes fluttered open in response, taking in her surroundings.

“Link,” she coughed as she lashed out to reach him. Maggie forced her down, yelling at her to stay still. Link wished he could comfort her but all he wanted to do was run out of the room. Bile threatened to spill out of his mouth as Amelia cried out in pain.

“She’s not going to want drugs.” Was all he could manage to say. Amelia squeezed his hand in agreement.

“Let’s get her to CT,” Maggie ordered. “We don’t have time for this.” She was referring to Carina’s protests about getting an ultrasound. 

“Fine!” Carina finally pushed the machine back in frustration. “I’ll meet you in the OR.” Maggie nodded, wheeling Amelia’s gurney out of the emergency room. Link looked to the obstetrician, his eyes watery. To his dismay she shook her head. “Does not look good,” she confessed. “It was already too small.” She wished she could console him as he burst into tears but instead ran to catch up to Maggie.

Three months

“How was your meeting?” Link asked as the brunette slid into his car.

“Good,” she responded, pulling the pins that were securing her bun out of her hair.

“Did you work through anything in particular?” He asked tentatively.

“Link,” she warned, begging him to drop it.

“Whatever,” he muttered. Accelerating a little too quickly due to his anger and causing them to both jolt back in their seats. Amelia winced, placing a slender hand to her thorax and reaching into her bag for an advil. Amelia had been popping them like candy and although Link knew they weren’t addictive, the sight of Amelia even taking pills made him uncomfortable. “Why can’t you just talk to me?” he pressed, knowing he shouldn’t. He’d never felt more distant from her in his life, despite going through something so tragic with her. “You wake up at night screaming from nightmares, sounds set you off, we can’t have sex and you won’t talk to me. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Amelia shook her head, leaning back in her seat as if the conversation was exhausting her. “I just prefer to get through my shit on my own.”

“Then why am I here?” He finds himself saying. “What am I good for?” His words seemed to echo in the vehicle and to his annoyance she didn’t reply. Instead she stepped out of the car and practically ran up the stairs to their apartment. When he finally followed her into their place he opened the door to find the shower running. He pushed the thought of how they always used to shower together out of his mind and numbly changed out of his scrubs into a pair of sweatpants. He walked into their ensuite to grab a fresh pair of socks and heard Amelia poorly stifle a sob from inside the frosted glass. He sighed, sliding the shower door open. He found her curled up in a ball on the ground, her fingertips tracing the healing scars on her breasts. Without hesitation he crawled in beside her, wrapping his arms around her trembling body. He hadn’t seen her unclothed in what felt like forever. He was surprised by how much had changed.

“I’m not going to let you shut me out, Mia,” he finally told her, smoothing his wet hair out of his face and cupping her cheek in his hand.

“I wanted him,” she sobbed, allowing Link to pull her into his bare chest.

“Who?” Link asked softly, hoping anything he responded with wouldn’t stop her from opening up.

“Our baby,” she grimaced, as if the words physically hurt.  

“Me too,” he admitted, his breath warm on her bare shoulder. He pressed a lingering kiss to her wet temple. “I can’t imagine what the five of you went through. I wish I was on that plane so I could. But I wasn’t and I don’t know how to help you.” 

“Don’t give up on me?” Was her almost immediate response. “I’m trying, Link. My brain is foggy and I feel like I’m in slow motion all the time. Everything’s moving too fast. Everyone’s moving on so fast. They’re all okay except they aren’t. And no one wants to talk about it.”

“Jo comes back Thursday,” Link offered.

“Alex doesn’t think she’s ready,” Amelia confessed. “He visited her last week and said there’s hardly been any change.”

“They won’t let me go see her,” Link added, wondering if his best friend would ever fully recover.

“Jackson just acts like nothing happened and Mer has just carried on working and sees a therapist. Bailey just cleared me last week and everyone still walks on eggshells around me.

“Everyone copes differently,” he tried.

“Not everyone is left with scars that are a constant reminder every time you look in the mirror. They make me want to escape my own body.”

“Amelia, your body is beautiful.” He traced her curves, trying to ignore that the last time she was completely naked in front of them they were trying to decide whether she was showing or not. “They tell a story.”

“An awful story. A story I want to forget.” Her voice was as sharp as a knife.

“When I look at them I see your strength. You’ve gone through hell, Amelia. I’m in pain. I can’t even begin to imagine what yours must be like. But you’re not alone, I’m here.”

“I know,” she mumbled. He was surprised when she placed a tentative kiss on his lips. “I just want to forget. Can you make me forget?” It hurt how broken her voice sounded. He nodded, allowing his lips to trail down her neck, her back arching in response.

“Of course.”

Hours later they were wrapped in each other’s arms, in the same bed that Link had felt so alone in over the past couple of months, despite her laying beside him.

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair, half expecting her to be asleep.

“I love you too,” she responded, sleepily. To Link’s surprise she didn’t wake up screaming at any point in the night. When the subway rattled their condo she barely flinched and instead allowed him to wrap her tighter into his protective grasp. Link couldn’t help but smile, knowing that he was slowly getting the woman he loved back.  

[void-knights]

Distractions

Square Filled: Distracting them with affection

Pairing:  Loki (Marvel)/Sigyn,

Rating:   Teen

Word Count:  3314

Tags: Jötunn Loki, Loki’s past, Self esteem issues, Fluff, Comfort, Care, Shapeshifting, Snake Loki, Bisexual Sigyn,Genderfluid Loki,

Summary: Exhausted and with his energy depleted Loki’s jötunn form reveals itself against his will. Sigyn distracts him with affection.

Written for: @lokibingo​

AO3 Link

The recent missions had left Loki pushed to his limits, he could not remember being so challenged as he had been as he was as an avenger. Tonight he lay in bed unable to move after a long luxurious bath, it was like other nights or, so he had assumed.

As he went to run a hand through his hair wondering if perhaps it was finally becoming too long he noticed the skin on his hand and forearm shifting from alabaster to a deep blue. For a moment all he could do was stare transfixed as though he were watching it happen to someone else and not himself.

Then reality came crashing down around him, it wasn’t happening to another person it was happening to him now. He tried commanding his own body to obey him, to have his skin shift back, he had mastered shapeshifting at the age of sixteen he could do this. Yet he could not. His own body betrayed him. More skin shifted from the familiar Aesir to the stranger Jötunn, he panicked.

What would happen when Sigyn saw him like this? Adrenaline surged through his body giving him the strength to kick off his blankets and stumble towards the vanity. He searched the surface of the dark wood furniture, various Midgardian creams and lotions that he and Sigyn were testing lay scattered.

The cosmetics hid in the second draw down, he pulled it open with the ridiculous idea that he could somehow hide his sudden inability to master his own body by caking himself in powders and creams. It might’ve worked if people ignored the crimson eyes (Sunglasses! He reminded himself) and the raised lines that ran throughout his body.

Oh, and now he had horns? They had not been there before, he was certain that the last time he had been forced to take this form he lacked horns. Suddenly there was a pressure around his head, one he had never noticed before as the horns seemingly sprouted not from his forehead where he first thought they had but from the sides of his head, just above or behind the ears which were now pointed. The horns were a shade of blue so dark and deep they almost looked black.

Panic filled him as his form became less and less Aesir with each passing second, his nails were a dark blue just like his horns, his entire body seemed more sensitive to the heat surrounding him, to the luxurious fabrics he wore.

He could hear Sigyn approach, his hearing had vastly improved, all his senses were heightened he realized stumbling back to the bed and ducking beneath the covers completely covering himself while attempting to force his body to submit to him. Why could he not control his own body?

The door opened, he could smell Sigyn from the lemon based perfumes she favoured to her own natural musk, he could smell Stark’s aftershave and oil, metal and something artificial clinging to her.

She marched on over to the shower slightly more heavy footed than was necessary, it took time, twenty-three minutes, during that time he tried once again to force his body to submit to him. A glimmer of hope came when his fingertips turned paler, but that hope was smothered within a few seconds.

Sigyn was out of the shower, “You were right,” She said in that overly resigned but amused and affectionate way she had whenever having to admit that she was wrong, the goddess of fidelity and victory did not take loosing well. “Stark is good company, I almost want to adopt him.”

Some part of Loki could imagine the scene and Stark accepting, then Sigyn would proudly show off their Midgardian son to all of Asgard and Odin would be forced to endure a Yuletide with Stark… this was starting to sound like a good idea.

A finger prodded at his head, “Did you fall asleep in your armour again?” she asked he pulled the covers tighter around himself desperate for her not to see him like this. “Darling?” Sigyn asked sitting herself down on the bed beside him, his back against her thigh.

She sifted, he felt the blankets being pulled, “DON’T!” he warned her. She listened to his protests releasing the blankets instantly.

A momentary beat passed before she asked him, “What is wrong my love?” her fingers running along the length of his arm.

He shivered unable to respond, how was she going to react? He could not get this form under his control, she had never seen this side of him, it was something he had made sure of.

Sigyn did not abandon him, instead she draped herself over him a comforting weight atop him separated by the warmth of the blanket that used to be sinfully soft against his skin but now seemed rough, harsh. She was no fool, she quickly realized what might be happening and soothed him as best she could with a gentle humming while gently rubbing circles into his back through the blanket.

He could feel the smile gracing his own lips as she somehow managed to squeeze him with her upper body as she remained half draped over him. It seemed so foolish on his part to worry about Sigyn’s reaction, her very nature was loyalty, she was a woman who was understanding, she had stood by him through the best times and the worst.

But this, this was different, this had been forced upon the pair of them, a lie that even the god of lies had not been able to detect. It was not part of their lives until Odin forced it upon them, by then it had been the start of a great downward spiral.

They had found their place side by side once more, but the issue of what he truly was had never been spoken of or addressed. Where once before Thor’s first coronation, before the truth was revealed, they had indulged in the idea of starting a family.

Loki had always teased her that she would make a great mother, and she would, though she often dreaded the idea of carrying on her families habit of having twins. She had been a twin, her mother, grandmother, grandfather and great-grandmother all had been twins.

But the more they had spoken about it the more they had liked the idea, a pair of twins born together, raised together on equal footing. They would never need fear inheriting a throne or whether one parent thought them a mistake. They would be loved and adored, treasured until the end of days. It had been such a nice dream.

“I cannot control it,” he admitted hating how meek he sounded beneath the blankets where he hid. She squeezed him again, “My jötunn form.”

She guessed as much, even at his lowest points Loki had never hid from her like this before. He never spoke of his Jötunn side, this other form, he never wanted to admit it or address it, that was part of the problem. How could they fix something that they never addressed or spoke about?

“In what way can you not control it?” She asked him still rubbing circles in-between his shoulder blades.

If they could not talk about it emotionally than they would boil it down to simple practicality. Not that Sigyn liked this path, she would rather Loki be comfortable and happy in his body regardless of what shape it took. But this was a start.

There were many options, may ways that Loki could explain what was happening yet the best solution was often simplest. He shifted enough that Sigyn pulled herself off of him and then slowly he pulled back the blanket revealing the issue at hand.

Instead of recoiling in horror as most aesir would she inched towards him placing both her palms against each cheek, she greeted him with her usual warmth, that smile made her brighter than he remembered. She leaned into him, her nose brushing up against his the new horns were not dissimilar to the golden horns she was more familiar with.

“I told you,” she taunted before brushing her freckled lips against his deep blue lips. She grinned pleased with herself they both knew she was right. He sat himself against the headboard while she sat by his side facing him, she never stopped smiling. “Rest for the next couple of days and eat plenty, you should regain the strength to reign in your shapeshifting.”

If his brain had not been working against him he might have come to this solution first, instead he forgotten the simplest solution. Rest and recouperation.

He grinned sheepishly, “Does that mean I will be pampered?”

“You know I never miss an opportunity to pamper you my love,” She answered, he could already see her planning how she was going to spoil him. Though stubbornly she would refuse to admit it should anyone ask, I was their private life after all.

They settled into their usual ways with some minor awkwardness, laying his head in her lap she took into account his new features. While she was used to him wearing horns she was used to being able to remove them. Gently at first she tucked hair that had fallen over his face behind his ear careful to avoid the new additions. He still carried tension within his body, anxious that at any moment she would flee. She never would.

They were bound in a way that went beyond marriage, beyond simple love and affection. It was a connection that only fidelity and lies could forge, a relationship built on mischief and victory, they would not be torn apart by this simple blip.

Her fingers traced a ghostly line over the curve of his horn, a violent pleasurable shudder wracked his body, she misunderstood and pulled her hand back afraid that she had hurt or offended him in some way.

Instead, he rolled onto his back, “Do it again,” he urged the black of his pupils blown wide.

“There’s a joke here, something about horns,” Sigyn whispered against the skin of his jaw, Loki had an idea but quickly dropped it when she kissed him again.

In this form everything was new the feel of her was unusually soft and smooth, he had never truly appreciated how soft she felt against him until now. Her fingers traced along the lines running over his ribs and chest, each time she touched him his body shivered in delight.

It was moments like this that awed him, Sigyn loved him, he still could not understand how or why. Theirs was not an easy relationship, neither of them liked easy, but at times Loki knew he pushed Sigyn a little to hard. Most spouses would have left, most would have slammed the door so hard in his face all the realms would feel and hear it.

But here, as Sigyn shifted them, so she could hold him in her arms he forgot his worries just for a moment. The threads of magic that twirled from her fingers like fae dancing on the petals of a flower turned his attentions towards more pleasant things, more delightful memories.

Warm fingers lit by cool blues trailed down his arms, down his spine, she worked her magic soothing each and every physical ache she could. There was a doubt deeply rooted that she would never be able to truly rid Loki of all that plagued him mentally and emotionally.

It strengthened her conviction to remain by his side, to remind him that he deserved love and compassion. That he was worthy of everything she could give him and hoped in return that he found her just as worthy of his love and affections. Somehow she knew he did, they did not need to speak of such things.

Fingers drifted along deep blue skin, like a sapphire caught in the light of the moon his skin shimmered. Freshly fallen snow glittering beneath a pale silver moon came to her mind, the memory of a night spent together in the cold of Midgard where the northern lights overhead gleamed and glittered illuminating the surrounding lands.

They had made love underneath those lights, the cold did not affect Loki as it did her, so he lay in the cold snow enjoying the gasps of pain and pleasure Sigyn rewarded him with when he brushed icy fingers cooled by snow against her nipples.

It was something neither had considered before, the snow and ice was not supposed to illicit pleasure or feelings of warmth and comfort. But Midgard did not believe as Asgard, they welcomed the ice and snow (within reason) choosing instead to celebrate in the warmth but enjoying the cold.

Sigyn preferred Midgard for many reasons, that which was most obvious, here Loki could breathe. Free of expectations from the crowns that knew him, from the realms that would curse and defame him. Here Loki was not completely unburdened, but he walked lighter than he would in other realms.

She wanted to remind him of this, that he was loved and should not need to fear revealing his true self. But logical compassion was overwhelmed by centuries of abuse, Loki may never love his jötunn self and for that and so many other reasons Sigyn would never forgive either Odin, Frigga or Thor.

Loki should not have to live in fear of himself, for himself, but he did, and she desperately wished she could take that from him.

Drawing fingers along the lines of his body Sigyn could not help but marvel at his beauty, she was lost at the moment unable to keep her hands off him. Though in fairness she was like that with Loki regardless of form, gender or sex.

They had once spent an entire day together where Loki was a massive iridescent serpent, he had wound himself around her while she read her books his massive body had been so great that she had to use him as a chair. He had needed an escape, somewhere to hide and Sigyn welcomed him with open arms.

Though when he slithered his way up beneath her jumper, so he could have some sort of skin contact that wasn’t just her hands had been a little vexing. Especially when she needed to get up for any reason. But there was something adorable about Loki’s shimmering emerald form being so snugly wound against her, his inky black tongue flicking out against her collar bone as he nestled himself between her breasts. He made a surprisingly good chair as a snake.

But she drew the line at horses after Loki had attempted to spend the day with her in that form, having to explain why you were having a bath with your wife who was a mare was as about as awkward as anything in the early stages of their marriage. Along the way Sigyn simply lost the ability to feel awkward about being caught in odd situations with Loki.

If her spouse needed comfort she was going to give them comfort regardless of what form they took!

“Do you think being in your jötunn form may influence the way you shapeshift?” she pondered running her fingers through his hair. He always enjoyed someone playing with his hair.

Loki who had been nestled against her chest took a moment to consider this. It wasn’t odd to think that maybe it would, especially if it were simply a case of shifting between sexes and genders. But more complex shapeshifting, animals and creatures, that may not be affected.

“If you wish to see my blue breasts you need only ask,” Loki teased pressing a kiss against her collar bone, his horns bumping a little against her as he did so. Her fingers meanwhile continued to draw small circles into his scalp, he was caught between arousal and sleepiness wondering which would be the first to give out.

Sigyn thought about this, Loki never offered to show his jötunn form to anyone she suspected it was less that he was wiling to show her his breasts and more a joke. She did not press the issue for tonight, she knew the key to handling Loki when he was in states like this, slow and softly. He was not fragile or delicate by any means but that did not mean he did not deserve softness.

Instead, she offered a counter, “Well if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind you shapeshifting into a tiger could you do that?” she asked, she had recently discovered the amazing mammals and creatures of Midgard and wondered why they had never visited the realm sooner. Oh, yes… Odin.

Loki had previously transformed into Midgardian cats, mostly a black cat to mess with the other avengers whenever the mischievous fancy took him. It was never anything big, at first he was just there inside the compound, Sam would say “Did you see that black cat?” and everyone would look at him like he had gone mad. Innocent pranking.

She had missed his innocent pranks, the ones made to entertain him and those around him. The days when they were all a lot more innocent and a lot less afraid, as a young teen Loki had always tried to win Sigyn over with his pranks. More often than not they backfired, but he had won her over by being able to laugh or walk it off. Not many (especially the men) in Asgard had the ability to do that.

It was not simply selfishness that drove Sigyn to request Loki shapeshift into a tiger, a form that he never took before which would therefore pose a challenge but because after the distraction of concentration he may be in another form that would free him from the insecurities that his jötunn brought about.

However, Loki shook his head, “Not without studying the creature beforehand,” that, or he was too exhausted and didn’t want to admit it. Sigyn pondered this as she stroked her fingers along the length of his spine.

“Then how about an old favourite?” she suggested. She could feel him vibrate, whether in relief or excitement she didn’t know, all that mattered was he was slowly being pulled away from the less cheerful thoughts and feelings this form inspired.

Well she didn’t need to ask twice, did she? It might not be a tiger but as Loki shifted into a snake he wound himself around her and held her firmly in the coils of his body. She used her magic to toss a blanket over the pair of them, his long neck and body acting as her new warm pillow made of iridescent emerald scales.

She smiled when his adorable snout tucked itself upon her neck, his tongue flicking out against her ear lobe, an affectionate gesture she had come to adore whenever he spent time as a serpent. Sigyn smiled drawing her hands over as much of his huge body as she could, there was too much of him as this particular snake. His entire body so large parts of him hung off the bed. The flicks of his forked inky tongue slowly tapered off until they came to a stop.

A smile spread across her lips as she felt the tightly wound body relax, no longer burdened by reality Loki was safe in his dreams. She would make sure of it, the gentle suggestion of magic from her would always protect him from his nightmares of which there seemed legion.

It wasn’t long before she too found the siren song of sleep within the coils of her spouse, her greatest love. Her last waking thoughts were of tomorrow where she promised to make his favourite food.

That at least should assist in his recouperation.

[joy1579]

the RFA bois react to empath MC

so in this context im gonna say MC is an empath in that she can feel other peoples emotions. they feel separate from hers though as she’s had a lot of time to learn to compartmentalize her emotions separate from others. she can also promote emotions to other people but not force them. think of it like the difference between being near a small campfire and wrapped up in a blanket in you house. if your feeling sad she can help you feel a little better help you not slip too far into depression but she cant solve the problem. if your surrounds by cold sadness she can be a small campfire to warm up next to until you have enough strength to make it home. some people can tell the difference between her promoted feelings and their genuine ones but its difficult and often takes a lot of practice.

I might add jaehee and Saeran a bit later. if you guys want me to leave a comment. otherwise i’ll probably move on to my next project.

oh and master list

Jumin

Curious, defensive, once he accepts it he’s thankful that you can understand his feelings so easily

-        He doesn’t believe you at first. At least he says he doesn’t but you can feel his curiosity

-        You tell him to ask any questions he has and he does

-        “Can you make people feel something?” Sorta but not really, I can promote or encourage feelings but not force them

-        “Can you tell when people lie to you?” it depends on why their lying. I can fell maliciousness and that can tell me if their lying.

-        “Have you ever used this power on me?” You can feel the anxiety behind that question. He doesn’t want his love for you to be something you created. You don’t have to be an empath or a mind reader to see that concern.

-        I can’t turn off feeling other people’s emotions that’s how I knew how much you were hurting. “you know that’s not what I’m asking MC”

-        You sigh defeated yes, but it isn’t what you think. I didn’t make you love me; I could never do that. there isn’t a point if those feeling aren’t genuine. I tried to calm you down, make you feel more safe and secure. You were so anxious I couldn’t stand to see you so hurting like that so I tried to encourage peace

-        You could feel him processing that, you watched as his grim and serious face slowly melted into the gentle smile you loved you could feel his warm and soothing love

-        can I show you something? I, I’ve never done this but I want to try to make you feel how I feel about you.so you can understand “you may”

-        you instructed him to breathe deeply. The way he did when he meditated (a hobby he had begun after reading about it in a book about Romanian vampires)

-        it’s easier if your empty and open. A blank slate to receive what I’m projecting are you ready?

-        He nods and you start. You pour every ounce of energy you have into showing him how much you love him the warmth in your face when you catch his eye, the tingles in your fingertips when he kisses you, the giddy bubbliness in your heart when he makes those silly dry jokes of his and last the hunger in your blood when he smirks at you.

-        When you stop sending him your feelings you can feel them mirrored back at you with their signature Jumin charm.

-        His face may not burn but he’s never found it difficult to fight a smile before he met you, his fingers may not tingle but they twitch with the need to hold you, and he feels that same giddy bubbliness when you laugh at his jokes, last but certainly not least you feel the aching need for you when you glance at him slyly

-        You laugh at the cosmic ridiculousness of it all, you two felt so similar yet so different two sides of the same coin.

-        You wouldn’t have it any other way

 Yoosung

Embarrassed, thinks you can mind read, tries to not think anything naughty thinks EVERYTHING naughty

-        When you tell him he turns bright red and you almost choke on the embarrassment he’s feeling

-        Why is he so embarrassed though? you don’t get it feelings aren’t embarrassing

-        “so you um you know all my thoughts?” oh okay now you get it he doesn’t understand

-        No I can’t read your thoughts I just feel your emotions, like if your happy I can feel your happiness or if your sad I can feel that sadness

-        “so um can you feel if I feel um like nope never mind no its nothing I’m going to go study”

-        Now you’re curious so while he’s studying your focused on him searching for something anything beyond the pure embarrassment he’s feeling

-        Slowly you can feel a small piece of his emotion a wavering flickering determination to hide something

-        You don’t approve of spying. But he was acting so strange you were worried. So you watched him for the rest of the evening as you scampered around doing everything in his power to stay busy and avoid you

-        You can’t keep avoiding me forever Yoosung what are you so afraid ill feel that I haven’t felt already

-        That’s when he locks eyes with you and you can feel his need ;) at the same time that his face flushes a near impossible shade of red

-        “MC can you feel when I have naughty thoughts?” He blurts clearly a little panicked

-        You can’t help but giggle because you can feel his nervousness under laden by the obvious thoughts he’s been trying not to think

-        Only when you think about them really hard *you wiggle your eyebrows at him*

-        And now you’ve broken him he’s a puddle of embarrassment on the floor you should probably stop teasing him now

-        Yoosung listen if you’re worried about me thinking your weird, or not feeling the same way myself. You don’t need to. Honestly most of the time I feel how sincerely you love me, how much you enjoy being with me, how much you cherish me. Every now and then I feel you get a little needy and to be honest, I feel the exact same way. I love you of course I feel that way sometimes.

-        Then his lips are on yours and your drowning in the intensity of his emotion

-        How can such a cute and innocent looking boy feel so, hungry. You have to admit its intoxicating

-        you hold him tight against you and try to make him feel your love the way you feel his love right now

-        you don’t know if it comes through but you figure you probably have the rest of your life to keep trying.

-        At least if the devotion and love you feel from him is really as strong as it feels

-        You know better than anyone that feelings can change in the blink of an eye

-        But you have no intention of letting this go

Saeyoung

skeptical at first, he jokes about conspiracies and magic because they seem so far fetched to me so you’ll have to prove yourself.

-        when she tells him he doesn’t believe you

-        “prove it what am feeling right now” he said teasingly

-        Skeptical? You replied blandly it didn’t take an empath to figure that one out

-        Saeyoung laughed at that and you couldn’t help the bloom off love in your heart

-        “okay that wasn’t a good example” he joked “how about this what’s Saeran feeling”

-        “emotionally exhausted, a little depressed, but mostly apathetically curious

-        ... it’s the best he’s felt in a while to be honest but it’s getting better” you said solemnly

-        You felt his heart sink the all too familiar weight of guilt he carried quickly pushed aside to focus on more pleasant things

-        “that would have been a better example if I could fact check it but it seems right” he said with a glance to his brother lost at the computer in the corner of the room

-        I can try to affect your mood would that prove it? You offered

-        He brightened instantly at that “oh yeah! that’s a good idea bet you can’t scare me”

-        “I can’t force emotions but I can promote them so let’s try it out. First it’s easier if you clear your mind and start with a blank slate” you instructed

-        “my minds always a blank slate” he quipped giving you his signature goofy grin

-        you couldn’t help but laugh for a moment and you felt his pride swell at your giggling

-        after a moment you calm yourself down and begin to focus on proving your point

-        suddenly he’s stiff and trembling in front of you

-        “I don’t like that” he whispered stopping you immediately

-        “I’m sorry did I push too hard” you fretted

-        “I, don’t, I believe you just don’t do that again”

-        “of course I’m sorry” you promised worriedly

-        “I haven’t felt like that since, never mind I just don’t like it”

-        “here let me try something else something better”

-        This time you sent warmth, comfort and love. the feeling of stepping inside your warm home on a cold winter day. you can feel him beginning to relax into it and you hope this makes up for your earlier faux pas

-        “I recognize that feeling you’ve done this for me before”

-        you caught me I did this a lot when you were with me at Rikas place I didn’t like you feeling bad so I tried to help usually the calls helped with they didn’t I did this

-        he pulls you into his arms and hugs you tight you can feel his adoration and gratefulness

-        “you’ve been helping me since the beginning. thank you”

 zen

instant belief (because he has psychic dreams after all) probably falls more in love with you because you can completely understand his feelings

-        now he knows why you believed him about his psychic dreams so wholeheartedly with no hesitation

-        no one had ever believed him so quickly and honestly it meant so much that you had trusted him

-        then his eye’s glint and he asks if you can feel what characters are supposed to be feeling

-        you almost laugh at that but he’s serious

-        he thinks about how helpful that would be for his career, how easy it would make character analysis

-        you almost wish you could when you see how passionate and ambitious he is

-        but you shake your head and explain

-        “I have to be with the person”

-        He nods at that but you can feel his confusion grow mixed with curiosity so you continue

-        “and if there’s multiple people I have to work harder to focus on just the person I want to read.”

-        it’s in this moment that clarity dawns on Zen’s face you were so good at isolating people’s problems focusing on exactly who you needed to. the reason you were always so focused on him and his feelings was because you worked at it. You had practice.

-        You could feel his admiration though you weren’t sure what thoughts a brought it you had started talking and now it felt like you couldn’t stop you had never told anyone about how your power felt and now it was pouring out of you

-        “It’s like being in a crowded room and trying to isolate one person’s voice from all the others. it can be overwhelming because people don’t have inside emotions like they have inside voices. when something exciting happens in a movie, sometimes it feels like the whole theater is screaming.

-        “that’s why you hadn’t heard of me before we met. You avoided the theater because it was to emotional?”

-        “I couldn’t get into the story because the actors never felt genuine and I got a headache from all the people in the crowd it was easier to watch things at home where I couldn’t read people so easily”

-        “but you come see my plays now?”

-        You blushed at that averting your eyes “your acting is different. You actually feel the part. You make it easy for even me to believe you. if it’s you, I think it’s worth the headache from the crowd. If it’s you I think I understand how the crowd can get so worked up.”

-        He lunged at you and in a flash your back was against the couch as he loomed over you hungry and full of adoration he leaned down to whisper in your ear

-        “can you tell how I feel right now?”

-        You shut your eyes tight and nodded face red with embarrassment.

-        “then you must have some idea of how much I love you. still I’d like to prove it, if you’ll let me Jagi”

[chibienvychan03]

A Spooky Surprise

Since you know many have plans for Halloween night, yourself included, you schedule the Halloween shoot the day before the holiday. Little do you know that you’re in for night of nightmares.

Your show features experts on the paranormal and psychics. Since it’s a holiday special, they allow you more time than the usual for the final edit. You decide to shoot more than less as you can always edit stuff out, but if you don’t have enough, needless to say filler material is a sign of an unprofessional. You’re a professional. After each expert and psychic gives their presentation, you open it up to the Q&A section of the program where the audience can asks questions to either the entire group or a specific person.

The question that you dread hearing the answer is the one about their scariest experience or encounter they ever had. You’re not paying full attention to the guests but rather glancing around to see if anything funny is happening. Maybe you’re reading too much into this. Yeah. So you turn your attention back to the shoot, not noticing random objects being moved without anyone touching them, and it can’t be the wind as the shoot is indoors.

After you finish the shoot, the audience swarm your guests, wanting to ask more questions. You gather your crew to get some semblance of order before anyone becomes injured. It takes awhile as everyone is in high spirits, and they’re eager for more information, namely their futures or answers from loved ones who are no longer there. Your team manages to corral people into different lines as opposed to a huge mob. Order has been restored or so you think.

Once the guests and audience leave, your team and you begin putting your equipment away and cleaning up after them. Goodness. For such a “small” audience, they make such a big mess. With many hands on deck, you clean up the set in no time as well as take care of your equipment. You decide you want to check up on a few things while you’re there in preparation for your next shoot.

Minor, Kiki, and Willow hang around as they’re concerned about your safety especially Minor for some reason or another. You’re not sure why. Maybe it’s because the two of you used to be classmates. As the Q&A section has run longer and the audience have several personal questions, it’s late. You’ve already taken up much of their day. At this point, you’re all doing overtime. You insist they head home. Minor reluctantly leaves with the girls, however, unbeknownst to you, he gives a lame excuse to linger around longer and out of your sight.

You’re engrossed with ensuring you have what you need and that it works you’re unaware of an entity that’s becoming angry that you’re ignoring it. When you’re certain everything is in order, you decide it’s high time you head home. You check your watch only to realize it’s much later than you thought. The temperature drops, and you’re shivering. Such a drastic change in temperature could only mean... but isn’t that the stuff of movies? That’s what you tell yourself or rather attempt to convince yourself until...

Your heavy and large camera starts floating higher and higher. At first you think it’s Gavin. “Very funny, Gavin. It’s not Halloween yet...” You check your watch. “You have half an hour.”

However, you know there’s a limit as to what Gavin can do even if he’s very talented with his evol. In addition to the large camera, chairs, stage props, the background, and things that you know have been bolted to the ground start floating. He would never do anything to hurt you on purpose, and even if it’s an accident, he would keep blaming himself for not keeping you safe. So when the floating equipment and other stuff start crashing near you, you know it’s definitely not him. This is completely opposite of him.

Scared out of your wits, you pull out your phone in attempt to call or text your knight in shining STF uniform. The thing slaps your phone out of your hand, sending it crashing into a nearby wall and destroying it. You’re ready to cry at this point, but you’re not given a chance as you apparently now have a bullseye on you and everything is aiming for you even the kitchen sink. Not really. It feels like it. Somehow you’re managing to dodge most of of the flying projectiles, some of them coming very close to your body. Thanks to your clumsiness, you keep this up for some time. That is until you jump out of the way of falling light. You attempt to stand up only for your ankle suddenly decide to not support your weight. Great you’ve twisted your ankle or worse sprained it.

The thing is far from being finished as it picks up the damaged equipment and prepares to send it your way again. With no way to dodge, you’re out of luck. You mentally and physically brace yourself for the impending pain. Closing your eyes and shielding your head with your arms, you wait for the inevitable. But after a minute of nothing happening, you open your eyes and remove your arms from protecting your head.

What you first see is a very, very, very pissed off Gavin, flying in all his STF uniform glory. He places a wind shield around you before dealing with whatever has tried to harm you.

Gavin fiercely glares at it or where he believes it to be. A killer aura surrounds him, but you’re not afraid. In fact, you feel completely safe in spite of what’s happening around you. Your knight has arrived and just in time too.

“Do you wish to die a second time? Because I WILL make it happen.” The way Gavin says it sends chills down your spine. You’re extremely thankful you’re not on the receiving end, not that he’d hurt you, but it’s still a scary experience.

Whatever it is must have decided Gavin is not someone to mess with and flees the studio, dropping everything it has floating where they are. You’re not sure how long Gavin stays flying and scanning to make sure it has really left. It feels like an eternity before he’s by your side. Forgetting your injured ankle, you stand up, only to cry out in pain and fall, but you never feel the floor. Instead you feel the strong arms of the reliable and protective Gavin.

Gavin inspects your ankle and wants to immediately take you to the nearest hospital, but the tears start falling. He starts panicking as he believes he’s done something wrong or something to offend you. In between sobs, you tell him you’re happy to see him and relieved he has come to the rescue. You omit the fact you’ll have to spend a lot of money repairing or replacing any damaged equipment. He still insists on getting you medical treatment.

“I just want to go home,” you sniffle.

“Okay, I’ll take you there.” Gavin scoops you up and carries you bridal style out of there. You’re too emotionally exhausted to be embarrassed and/or complain about being carried out. Not to mention, a lurking Minor who is giving Gavin the thumbs up and go for it signs.

When you arrive at your place, Gavin places you on your bed before grabbing your first aid kit (how he knows where... who knows) and tending to your ankle. He wraps it as if he’s done it a thousand times.

“Wow, you’re good at this.” It dawns on you. “I hope you’re not wrapping your own ankle.” You hate it when he hides his injuries.

Gavin freezes for a few seconds. His next statement hits you hard. “I don’t want to lose any more teammates.”

You practically throw yourself at him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I wasn’t strong enough then, but I am now. I won’t let it happen ever again.” Gavin says it as if he’s making a promise, but the both of you know battles and disasters are completely unpredictable. Nothing is guaranteed in life except death and aging.

“Still... You shouldn’t be the only one to shoulder this.” You want to be there for him, but you know there’s not much you can help him with when it comes to his work. It’s frustrating.

He pulls you closer to him. “It’s the thought that counts.”

Once you’re settled in for the night, Gavin is about to leave when you grab his jacket. “Please don’t go.” You’re still scared.

“I won’t if you ask me.” True to his word, Gavin stays the entire night. He does, however, move into the next room as to not disturb you. Many people owe him big time, and he’s calling in those favors for you.

The next morning, you don’t want to get out of bed as it’s comfy and you really don’t want to face your friends/coworkers to explain what happened last night. They probably won’t believe you. You even don’t believe it, and you lived through it. As you’re curled up underneath your blankets, you hear some noise near you. Then you realize it’s Gavin and you blush big time. You had asked him to stay, and he did stay.

“Good morning.”

You peek out from underneath your blankets. “Not a good morning.” You know you have bed head, but at this point, you don’t care.

Gavin frowns. “You must be hungry.” As if on cue, your stomach growls. “How about I take you to your fave breakfast cafe?”

Very tempting. Warm, comfy bed versus a very yummy breakfast.

Your stomach wins this duel. You’re about to ask Gavin to step out so you can change, but he’s already exited your bedroom. Yes, trust Gavin to be respectful, something you love about that man. You hobble over to your dresser and closet. This time you manage to get changed without face planting onto your floor. How embarrassing it would be for Gavin to rush into your room with you half-dressed.

After breakfast, Gavin insists on taking you to work, but you shake your head. You’re not ready to face them yet. “I don’t think I can... How am I going to explain it to them? They’re all going to laugh at me.”

Gavin tightens his grip on you. “I won’t let that happen.” He says what he means and means what he says. You know with him there, there’s nothing to be afraid of, yet, there’s still that irrational fear.

“You’ll stay with me?”

“All you need is to ask.”

“Please?”

“Yes.”

When he lands outside the building, you cling to him or as much as you can from your position in his arms. He’s carrying you bridal style again. Seems to be his favorite. You close your eyes, not ready to see it.

Gavin uses the key you handed over to him and unlocks the door. Very carefully he maneuvers the two of you inside. Having been there several times (more like practically living there during those projects), you already know where he’s going. You can walk there in your sleep.

When he stops, you’re hesitant about opening your eyes. It’s not that you’re afraid of being injured or scared... you just don’t want to see the aftermath of that paranormal attack. But after some gentle coaxing form Gavin, you open your eyes to see...

nothing has happened. Your set looks like it hadn’t been through World War III. It’s back to normal. Tears begin falling.

Gavin panics as per usual. “I’m sorry. Did I get anything wrong? I can fix it. Just tell me what to do.”

You shake your head, telling him these are tears of joy and that you’re completely relieved you don’t have to explain this to anyone. Trying to pull a joke, you mention something about them locking you up in the funny house. Unfortunately it backfires as Gavin takes it literally. “It’s a figure of speech.”

“Oh.” Gavin’s now blushing.

The awkward moment stays awkward until you hear someone.

“Man, is it getting hot in here or what?”

Trust Minor and his ‘perfect’ timing.

“Don’t mind this idiot.” Ah trust Willow to keep him in line. She drags him out by the ear with him whining the entire way out.

As if it couldn’t get any more awkward.

While you’re working with your editing team, Gavin assigns himself a mission. He somehow manages to track down that spirit, entity, whatever that not only caused you so much trouble but injured you as well. What happens next... well that’s up to your imagination.

But somehow Gavin persuades it to never cause trouble, not harm anyone, and to stop any property damage. How he managed to injure it? Who knows.

This man makes the impossible possible.

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 12: Curtain call (Part 5)

Warnings: violence, death

Author notes: although it  may seem like it... It is not the end yet...! There are some things that still need to be done... I’ll let you guess what, and do comment about your thoughts!

I sighed and dropped the empty weapon to the ground. The fight was over, but there was still no trace of Taikin-san nor his son. I ran a hand through my hair and groaned. It was sticky, and I had blood all over my clothes and face. For my last day as a killer, this sure was a massacre… I crouched down next to the corpses and searched them. I wanted an average gun or two, they suited my skills more than submachine guns and were usually more discreet. Nothing. I pouted and let myself slide down, suddenly feeling exhausted. I had fought so many people, following the information the Fox had given me. He would not dare lie to me… Would he…? No, it was impossible, but it seemed my opponents had foreseen my moves. Why, I had been predictable, after all, and had attacked without even a strategy, blinded by anger. I had to calm down and think. Think… Thoughts. My mind was not empty, someone was still around. Although the painful thumping in my head made it hard to distinguish exactly what was being thought, I could still locate the person. I explored the warehouse. It was a single large room, so the only place where someone could be hiding was the containers.

In the back, placed in the middle of other boxes, there was a large one, made of a different material from the others. I placed my hand on it and knocked slightly. It was bulletproof. My eyes were drawn towards the lock closing it. It required a digital code I did not own, and, without guns, I could not even shoot it open. Even with guns, I would have taken the risk to damage it, anyway. Suddenly, my phone rang, again. A different number, but the person had to be the same.

"The code is 1231."

I had given up on determining who the mysterious sender was and simply entered the pin to unlock the container. It worked. The heavy door opened to reveal none other than a crying Sakunosuke-kun, who threw himself in my arms as soon as he saw me, despite all the blood I was covered in. I cracked a smile, and hugged him back, relieved to see him alive.

"Nē-san!" He cried, clinging onto me "Nē-san…!"

"I'm here, Sakunosuke-kun…" I patted his head as gently as possible "It's all over now… Let's get out of here, alright?"

He nodded and I picked him up in my arms. In spite of the danger we could face if I could not fight back, considering how my hands were taken, I judged that child needed warmth more at the moment. The boy nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck as I walked us towards the exit.

A gunshot echoed in the warehouse, and I barely had time to crouch down to dodge it. In the direction of the attack, a single man was standing. He had surely been hiding all this time, and I had not noticed him, too absorbed by my fight. I smirked and put the kid down.

"I'll be back… Scream if anything happens." I told him before turning my attention to the man "I was looking for you everywhere…! I thought you had been killed, Taikin-san…~"

"Too bad, I'm still alive. For a detective serving justice, you really don't hesitate to spill blood…!" He replied with the same tone.

"What are you saying, 'too bad…?" I snorted "I'll have the pleasure of killing you, now…! You disgusting criminal…"

"Then come…! I'm waiting for you!" He invited me over.

I raised an eyebrow.

"You saw what I did… Do you truly think you stand a chance against me?"

"You shouldn't underestimate your opponent… I am a member of a shooting club…!"

"Is that so…? Interesting…"

I crouched down to avoid his next bullet, then sneaked between the containers and made my way towards him while using my surroundings to protect myself against his shots. I had him in my field of view, and he was surely aware that I was there, too. I reached for my guns, but my holsters were empty; I had thrown the useless weapons away, earlier.

"Hoh~? You dare come unprepared?" He chuckled.

My phone vibrated.

"Where are you looking at~?"

Once again, I dodged his attack, and jumped on him to pin him to the ground. It was not enough to neutralise him, however, and he pointed his gun on my forehead. I was utterly defeated...

"I think you lost, this time, detective." He snickered "Meddling in my business…"

"Before you kill me, Taikin-san…" I said "I am curious…"

"I suppose I could answer your question before I kill you, after all… What do you want to know?"

"... How much did you underestimate the Agency to hire us, thinking we would never find out about your schemes…?"

"Huh?"

From a pocket of my jacket, I pulled out a knife and sliced his hand from his arm, before planting the blade into his neck, right into his carotid artery. His last expression was one of pure shock, but I did not mind too much. I left his corpse there and went back to his son, now an orphan. He was sobbing because his loving father had died, but I could hear he was aware of the horrors he had committed. I hoped he would never come to know about his deceased brother… He had never gotten to grow up with him, there was no need to ever tell him about that child…

"It really is over now…" I smiled at him, wiping his tears away with my thumb "Let's get you back to your mother now…"

"Mmh…"

Outside, the sun was falling towards the sea, painting the sky in beautiful crimson shades. Sakunosuke-kun had fallen asleep… The seagulls cried right above our heads, welcoming us out of that morbid place. The case was over… My existence as a criminal was over, but so were my hopes to enter the Agency. I had killed the culprit instead of giving him a fair trial, that was enough to seal my fate. But whatever would happen, I would not kill anymore.

A silhouette was leaning against the wall, visibly waiting for me. I grinned at the person.

"I knew it was you."

"I'm not going to charge you for the extra information I provided you during that… Mess." The Fox crossed his arms "Although you did cost me three burner phones and my sanity… Do you know how hard it was to hide from those guys? They are such brutes…!"

"Why, it wasn't that difficult, seeing how you skillfully hid that knife in my jacket while I was resting, at your place." I conceded.

"I really could have killed you then, right?"

"How would I have known which pocket the knife was in if I wasn't already aware…?" I asked smugly.

"Raaah you…!" He whined "Let me tell you, you're annoying, the worst client I've ever had…!"

"Fox…"

"You're never satisfied and always act so condescending…!" He pointed a wagging finger at me.

"Hey, Fox…"

"It's not my fault you're more witted than me…! Next time, get your information by yourself…!" He exclaimed.

"Fox!"

"What now…?!"

"Thank you." I smiled at him.

"You — Wait, what…?"

"Thank you." I repeated "Without you, I wouldn't have been able to win."

It was impossible to suppress an entire organisation alone, but I had not been by myself. In the shadows, that genius informer had been assisting me. And I was most grateful to him.

"W-Well, you're welcome…" He mumbled "Just did my job… Besides…"

He sighed heavily.

"I received a message from my mentor… He told me to help you whenever you needed, even for free…! I couldn't refuse…"

"Your mentor…?" I blinked.

"I inherited his casino when he stopped his activities. But I can't tell you his name…"

I could not help the laugh which escaped my throat, a real, sincerely amused one, which managed to bring tears to my eyes. I had been outdone, this time…!

"It's Uemura-san, isn't it?" I asked, trying to calm down.

"What…? How did you know even that…!"

"He was an informer for the Port Mafia, after all…" I recalled "And I had gone to him before asking for your services."

"So you didn't even think about me first…?! I'm upset…" He pouted.

"But I truly do not regret working with you." I admitted "You even surpass him, now…"

"So… That means I'll have to assist you more, from now on…?" He grimaced.

"Unfortunately, I didn't keep my words to Uemura-san… I am unable to join the Agency with… That." I showed him the scene "So it's the first and last time…"

"That's too bad…" He muttered "You're an interesting person…"

"I thought I was the worst customer?" He smirked.

"Customer…! But as a… Collaborator, you're not that bad…"

"I'll take that compliment~"

We left each other respectfully and I watched as he walked back to the shadows. As to me… What could I do, now that I had failed the entrance test…? I hoped that, at least, Dazai will keep giving me sleep… What if he refused to see me because I had failed his expectations…? I did not want to think about it and simply carried the boy to the Armed Detective Agency, where they would be able to take care of him.

I gently put him in front of the door and knocked so someone would find him. There was nothing more I could do for that family… The moment I turned around to leave the building, someone called my name.

"Ogawa."

I was embarrassed — no, even worse, I was ashamed. That person had trusted me despite our differences… I did not want to turn around and show him how tainted I truly was, both physically and emotionally. I stayed stunned in the middle of the corridor.

"Are you really going to leave him there? Won't you take him to his mother?" Kuninida asked me.

"... I cannot…" I murmured.

"You know, there is a stain on your pants…" He noted.

My cheeks heated up violently, and I wanted to bury myself in a hole. If only I had left earlier, instead of staring at the peaceful boy's face… I clenched my fists.

"Is that so…?" I did my best so my voice would not sound cracked.

"Well…" I heard him grumble "It's normal, after all… It was such a mess in that warehouse. It's a miracle that the boy survived whereas that shooting occurred. All of that for drugs, can you believe it?"

I glanced over my shoulder slightly.

"What… What did you say…?"

"The group working for Taikin-san suddenly got greedy and wanted to get the drugs for themselves, which resulted in a fight. I thought you knew?" He explained.

I decided, finally, that I would face him. Upon seeing the blood on my clothes, his eyebrows did not even twitch. He was aware of my deeds, and yet… Was it not odd, coming from him…? He had always obsessively respected his ideals. I had killed people while working for the Armed Detective Agency… He could not possibly be covering for me nor accepting my actions…?

"W-Well… I'm not sure…"

"This is the official version, what we will say to Yumiko-san, what the people will know. You were… Outstandingly discreet, I must say…" He readjusted his glasses "There were some losses, and I have a lot to blame you for, but all in all… You kind of… Did a good job. That's the least I can say."

"Kunikida…" My facade of confidence shattered "Thank you… I… I am so sorry… I killed our culprit… I went against the law and your moral… I don't deserve… I don't deserve your words…"

"Why, that's for sure…!" He huffed "While you were away, we found and arrested the bomber, and you know what happened? A man came and stopped us…! He said we had no right to take him away, since a detective had made a deal with him to pay for information…! You ought to explain that, Ogawa…!"

"Where to begin…?" I managed to smile, wiping my tears away "I had no more money…"

"All of that to get us a forged warrant…" He sighed "But thanks to that, we could solve the case… As we're talking, Dazai is arresting Nozaki the Grand for cooperating in Taikin-san's schemes. Once Yumiko-san is freed from hypnosis, she will recover, then will be able to raise Sakunosuke-kun."

"... What about the maid who wanted to sue me…?"

"She will most certainly give up when her teacher gives her name to the police." He shrugged "There is no need to worry about her."

"So it's all over…?"

"All over. Thanks to you, detective." He smiled at me.

"I… What…? Why…?"

"In fact, it is still too soon to call you that but… I gave the director my approval for you to join us. I thought you had to know…"

"But… I brought nothing but troubles… I used illegal means to investigate, let a bomber go, eliminated our culprit… Truly, I didn't do a single right thing…!"

"You did." Kunikida assured me "You dedicated yourself to the case, because you truly wanted to protect the kids… Even if you partly failed… What matters is that you worked with these people's best interests in mind. And it suits the Agency's requirements to enter it."

"I… I was aware it was a test of some sort…" I confessed "It wasn't out of pure… You know… Out of good will…"

"Dazai told me you were aware and I took it into account, don't worry about that. There is always an entrance exam for our new members, to test their values and whether they are able to bear the title of detective. And I, the jury, decided that you passed." He told me.

I knew better than questioning his judgement. He who was so righteous had accepted me in the Agency, as a member… It was not a sweet lie, coming from him… These were words I could trust, and words I wanted to live up to. They made me proud of my person, for the first time in my life, and I wanted to cherish them. From that moment on, I would become a detective, and I would become a better human.

[kingofthewilderwest]

Do you think Mabel gets too much hate? I noticed when a female character acts selfish she gets hated on but when a male character does the same it’s praised

We’re free to love or hate any character with or without reason. That said, I feel sad seeing Mabel hate and agree Mabel receives too much hate. I feel like the rhetoric claiming she’s unforgivably selfish is skewed. I think people have decent criticisms regarding Mabel’s character and how she’s presented. However, I don’t think they sufficiently describe the full picture.

Anecdotally, I don’t think this is a case of sweeping sexism because Ford also receives more criticism than I think warranted. My perspective on how much hate each character proportionately receives could be incomplete, though.

But anyway. Let’s talk Mabel.

First though: please don’t try to debate this with me. If you don’t like my opinion, no worries. That’s chill. I’m just not interested in using my recreation time debating this. Thanks! :) However, if you want further clarifications, analyses, case studies, etc. I’m happy to talk more, because this is NOWHERE close to exhausting my thoughts on this topic.

Mabel’s Selfishness: The General Critique

I think everyday anti-Mabel criticism tends to use points like:

When other characters act selfishly, they’re called out and the narrative punishes them. But when Mabel wants something, she gets it, and it’s a reward (The Deep End, The Time Traveler’s Pig, Escape from Reality).

Mabel never learns how to give up something important and deal with that loss. Even when she lets something go, it’s not something that would have been good in her life. For instance, her failed puppet performance is “dodging a bullet” rather than losing something meaningful, since Gabe’s just a puppet kisser. In the end, she doesn’t have to live with sacrifice (Boyz Crazy, Sock Opera).

Mabel even selfishly causes the apocalypse by giving Bill the rift. She’s never held responsible for that (Dipper and Mabel vs the Future).

The narrative reinforces that Mabel is a good person even when she’s not (The Last Mabelcorn).

People particularly look at Mabel in S2 over S1; many claim that’s when her character began to feel selfish and insufferable. 

This isn’t everything, but I have tried to characterize the rhetoric fairly based upon what I’ve seen.

I find these discussion points understandable. Mabel can be self-focused and sometimes ignores others’ feelings. Alex Hirsch admitted in DVD commentaries that he focused on Dipper learning lessons because he put himself in Dipper’s shoes. And some of Alex’s writing intentions could’ve been clearer, like instances where the twins resolve conflicting desires. We could talk about how the show could be improved or the character is legitimately not-selfless.

At the same time, I think how fandom uses these talking points isn’t 100% fair to Mabel’s character or the show’s full narrative. 

I want to point out that Mabel hate for her selfishness covers two fronts: one claim that Mabel is selfish, and another claim that the surrounding plot doesn’t handle her selfishness satisfactorily. I think there’s fair constructive criticism when it comes to narrative framing (even if I disagree), but I don’t think the same dialogue is good rationale against Mabel’s personality. At times I see the two concepts conflated. The narrative may annoy you if you think selfishness isn’t addressed in plot, and contribute to you disliking the character, but claiming “Mabel is selfish” because of that is flawed logic. 

In this analysis, I’ll cover both fronts. I’ll tackle the four points I mentioned above and explain why I find them too harsh. I’m not going to cover all my thoughts (yes, my original draft was longer!!), but I will argue:

Mabel reverses her selfishness - and that’s the big choice sealing the climax of multiple episodes. She doesn’t get off “consequence free” either (Boyz Crazy, Sock Opera)

Mabel sacrifices for others. The narrative does show that Dipper and Mabel meet in the middle, not that Dipper feels guilty enough to ameliorate his sister’s wishes (Sock Opera, Escape from Reality)

Mabel giving the rift to “Blendin” mirrors Dipper offering a puppet to Bill. Both twins are emotionally compromised and believe they’re making a harmless deal with an inconsequential item. Neither would’ve made these choices in calmer circumstances. Sock Opera doesn’t have Dipper deal with his culpability; relax up on Mabel (Sock Opera, Dipper and Mabel vs the Future)

Mabel’s selfishness is addressed, handled, and resolved. The moral of The Last Mabelcorn isn’t defending Mabel’s goodness; it’s Mabel embracing imperfection. Mabel learns she’s a bad person and changes her perspective of herself multiple times in canon (The Last Mabelcorn, Lost Legends)

I could also have talked about how selfishness isn’t required to be resolved in her character arc, all the times Mabel does nice things for others, how she doesn’t always obnoxiously hog the spotlight, and other things, but I want to cap the length of this essay.

So let’s begin.

Can Mabel learn from selfishness if she’s consequence-free and never handles meaningful loss?

Anti-Mabel Argument: Circumstances don’t adversely affect Mabel. This means she never has to sacrifice for her brother like Dipper does for her. For instance, in Sock Opera, Mabel sees that Gabe is a weirdo over-obsessed with puppets. Her failed puppet performance was “dodging a bullet” rather than losing something meaningful, so she doesn’t learn true self-sacrificial love. Mabel never learns how to give something important up and deal without it. So, she never changes.

Boyz Crazy not only is an episode where the climax is Mabel learning to act against her selfish desires, but it’s got an explicit apology in dialogue. “I’m sorry I went bonkers,” she tells Candy and Grenda. “A catchy song made me realize that you were right. Can you ever forgive me?”

While Mabel has to learn this lesson again in later episodes, it’s to note: most GF characters are fairly static, and Dipper also has to learn multiple times not to hit on Wendy. Character progress doesn’t happen all at once. And in the next episode I’ll talk about, not only does Mabel confront her selfishness, but it’s the last time she lets her boy chasing impact Dipper. It ends after this.

I’m talking Sock Opera.

Mabel’s sacrifice in Sock Opera is big. She doesn’t get off “consequence free.” She decides to sabotage her performance before knowing Gabe’s a weirdo. Mabel is fully willing to lose her most viable romance option… for Dipper. She realizes her brother would be willing to give something up for her, and she’s going to reciprocate by giving up something big for him. 

Mabel might’ve dodged the bullet of dating Gabe, but she still gives up something big and will feel it. Sure, she makes the puppet show to impress Gabe. But she’s also entertaining a full audience. She can feel the people booing her, see them storming out and leaving. Mabel is someone who wants everyone happy, so much that seeing everyone happy except Robbie puts her in Crisis Mode. I don’t know about you, but just because I saw some guy kissing puppets, I wouldn’t think, “Yay! I had a happy outcome to this play ordeal!”

Mabel VERY much says, in the dialogue, that her brother would give up something big for her. And that’s what her Big Choice comes down to. Every episode climax in Gravity Falls comes down to The Big Choice. Here, Mabel’s Big Choice… is to sacrificially watch her hard work burst into literal flames.

Mabel apologizes to her brother, “I’m sorry, Dipper. I spent all week obsessing over a dumb guy. But the dumb guy I should have cared about was you.”

In following episodes, Mabel does put Dipper in mind. She gets momentarily distracted by crushes in The Love God, but that’s in a quest to solve her own mistake - a mistake that came from trying to make everyone, from Robbie to Thompson to Dipper, happy. She wants to include Dipper, from the Ducktective finale to her birthday party planning mission. And if you’re focusing on how she teases Dipper, why aren’t you also targeting Stan, who makes the same action without change?

Mabel Hate rhetoric focuses on how Bill was “right” in Sock Opera and she still acts selfishly in the same patterns after that episode. But, the climax is Mabel resisting Bill and demonstrating self-sacrifice, and that arguably does influence her character afterwards. It’s one step in an incomplete process. She might not be ready to handle Dipper separating off with Ford, but that’s because her arc still isn’t completed.

We do see Mabel dealing with meaningful loss like the collapse of her puppet show. She does show sacrificial love for her brother. And, as I’ll talk about more, she continues to grapple with and grow in selflessness through later decisions like Escape Through Reality.

Does Mabel ever realize she’s a bad person?

Anti-Mabel Argument: Narrative reinforces Mabel is a good person even when she’s not. Alex Hirsch wrote with rose-tinted bias because Mabel represents Alex’s twin sister. The Last Mabelcorn showcases that. Instead of Mabel learning she’s a bad person who can’t receive a unicorn’s blessing… the unicorn’s criticisms against Mabel get nullified – the creature’s lying about Mabel’s impure heart. Mabel got affirmed for who she was rather than dealing with her imperfection.

First off: if you haven’t watched the DVD commentary for The Last Mabelcorn, you should. It’s a wild story how this episode got made. Alex Hirsch trashed the script of an entire episode 48 hours before it was due. He crunched to write a new episode - by himself - from scratch. So yeah. A few lines of final dialogue could’ve been tweaked to improve the message, but the fact he wrote as successful an episode as he did in that short of time is incredible. And the message of The Last Mabelcorn is there:

Mabel learns she’s an *IMPERFECT* person. She embraces being imperfect instead of groveling for impossible perfection and meaningless approval.

Maybe that’s not the “Mabel learns selflessness!” episode you wanted, but this is a fascinating lesson, and one I don’t see touted tons in media. I love it.

Mabel spends the episode attempting to be pure of heart through kind deeds. Wendy tells Mabel they should solve their problem the dirty way. Mabel keeps refusing until the unicorns anger her. This is the moment of triumph: she punches a unicorn. Mabel forsakes the route of “pure” good deeds to do what she first considered dirty. That’s the hero moment, dudes! 

Mabel says the unicorns are “worse” than her, not that she’s good and they’re bad. Mabel comes out of the adventure declaring, “Today I learned morality is relative.” That’s because the episode’s climactic Big Choice isn’t about Mabel accepting she’s a “pure” person; it’s about Mabel accepting she can make “impure” choices.

Ford is the person at the end who tries to tell Mabel she’s good. But Mabel contradicts what he says with that “morality is relative” quote. What she takes away is that she’s imperfect, she can make non-sparkly-decisions, and that’s okay. She’s become more aware of herself and her flaws, but also accepts she can make choices others might shake their heads at. 

So. Ford and Wendy might’ve called Mabel “a good person” in key parts of the episode, which is why I say Alex (not in a time crunch) could’ve considered tweaking lines to make the point clearer. But I don’t think the episode depicts Mabel as a selfish jerk who never learns her flaws.

And frankly? If I had to choose between a standard “you’re not perfect” episode and this? I’d MUCH rather have this, where characters learn lessons, but we also get the show’s humorous, slightly subversive, slightly truthful “anti-morality.” That’s a Gravity Falls thing, after all. (For other anti-morality examples: Stan saying Summerween is about celebrating “pure evil,” Mabel deciding it’s good to lie so Stan doesn’t get arrested, Mabel deciding being an asshole to employees is productive, etc.)

So yes, Mabel realizes she’s a bad person, even if it’s not in the way you expected. And that’s still not the end of her character arc. 

Does Mabel ever sacrifice for others Dipper?

Argument: Mabel only agrees to leave her bubble after Dipper promises to drop Ford’s apprenticeship. This apprenticeship would have been huge for Dipper. But all Mabel “sacrifices” is leaving a fake world she’s hiding in, goofing around instead of helping people in literal Armageddon. 

Much of Mabel and Dipper’s relationship is about how they’re opposites. We repeatedly see the best place for both of them is the middle. Alex Hirsch talks about this tons. Whether it’s perfectly implemented is a debate for another day. I do think these concepts can be seen even in episodes like Escape From Reality where there’s been criticism of narrative execution.

I’ve seen people say Mabel “gets her way” because Dipper turns down Ford’s apprenticeship when he sees it makes her sad. Hirsch has said in commentaries Dipper was making a mistake wanting the apprenticeship. Mabel wants to avoid growing up while Dipper wants to grow up too fast.

We don’t have to take Hirsch’s word-of-god for it: the story does show that Dipper was erring with the apprenticeship. Ford intends well, but his bias against siblinghood means he’s polluting Dipper’s values. He suggests that Dipper staying with Mabel is “suffocating.” He suggests that Dipper is “greater” and should be doing something with it. “Dipper, can you honestly tell me you never felt like you were meant for something more?” And later: “Listen to me, Dipper: this town is a magnet for things that are special. And that includes you and me. It brought both of us here for a purpose! Stay here with me, Dipper. Become my apprentice. Don’t let anyone hold you [back].”

When Mabel and Dipper make resolutions in Mabel Land, Dipper says he’ll drop the apprenticeship. This emotionally touches Mabel. But being emotionally touched doesn’t mean that’s WHY she makes amends with her brother. Instead, Mabel reassures him that he can take the apprenticeship if he wants. She leaves the choice up to him and is willing to let him live in another state during their teen years. She finds his needs and desires important.

And honestly? It’s Dipper himself who realizes the apprenticeship is bogus; it’s not because Mabel is forcing her brother to change. “Mabel, I thought you were living a fantasy, but look at me! I actually thought I was gonna stay here and be Ford’s apprentice. Spend my entire teens cooped up in a basement with a lab coat? How ridiculous is that?” He sheds the idea because he realizes it’s a bad one, not because he’s ameliorating someone too selfish to accept her brother leaving her.

It’s also to note Mabel Land tempts everyone. Calling only Mabel selfish when everyone else gets pulled in… seems incorrect. Bill considers it a diabolical, inescapable prison. People like Soos, Wendy, and Dipper who know it’s a prison get drawn to Mabel Land’s temptations. Heck, Dipper gets tempted with an old vice. He might have grown more mature, but that doesn’t mean he can’t trip occasionally (we can apply the same understanding to Mabel and “selfishness,” by the way - someone can both grow and keep tripping). Mabel, meanwhile, wants to use the bubble to help and comfort her visiting friends (which is, for the record, not selfish) and thinks reality should be avoided because both her and Dipper’s lives have been adversely affected. Dipper’s pain is important, too. Mabel has been in this prison longer than Soos, Wendy, and Dipper, and the prison was designed for her - ergo she’s going to be more manipulated by it. Lots of her actions are avoidance tactics because she’s scared of growing up, yes. The court trial is a lot, yes. But we should bear in mind that this is a child scared of growing up and feeling the burn of conflict with her brother. Emotional and psychological context is important. We all get vulnerable. Do our lowest lows define our entire personality?

When Dipper and Mabel make their compromise, both reject temptations. Dipper rejects a bad apprenticeship; Mabel rejects a bad reality. They offer each other solutions where they don’t get what they originally want. They meet in the middle, and this is the best way for both to move forward in the aging process. They’re both satisfied and confident with their choice. It’s not Dipper giving up everything for Mabel, ameliorating her because she’s sad. It’s about the twins learning they can make it through life together, through thick and thin.

Potentially muddled thematic framing does not erase the resolution the twins make. It does not erase that Mabel’s depicted as someone willing to give up major things for her brother.

Okay. But that rift thing. How can you excuse the APOCALYPSE??? JUST TO HAVE MORE SUMMER!?!

The point is that Mabel is emotionally compromised and outmanipulated.

She’s a terrified twelve year old going through a Very Rough Day. She’s terrified about the future, she’s learned bad news after bad news, and she’s afraid her life as she knows it will be wrenched apart. It feels like everything she loves - from her best friends to her brother - will be distanced from her. 

Would you have handled this well as a kid? Adults have issues with this, too.

When she meets “Blendin,” she’s told that trading one inconsequential item will save her future. It’s self-focused, but it’s important to understand: she wouldn’t have made this choice in calmer emotional states.

Compare this to Dipper making a deal with Bill in Sock Opera. The twins literally make the same mistake for the same reasons, duped by the same villain.

Dipper: Decides to give Bill one of Mabel’s belongings, a puppet, without her knowledge. Mabel: Decides to give Bill one of Dipper’s backpack items without his knowledge. 

Dipper: Irritated with Mabel because she isn’t helping unlock the laptop.Mabel: Frustrated with Dipper because it feels like he’s abandoning her to be “special” with Ford. 

Dipper: This is an inconsequential bargain. Bill is just unlocking the laptop. He’s just taking a sock puppet - Mabel has plenty of those.Mabel: Nothing bad will happen. Just a few more weeks of summer. And she’s giving an item Ford allegedly won’t notice is missing.

Dipper: The laptop counter is ticking. Only a matter of minutes before the data gets erased.Mabel: Summer is ending in a week. Separation from Dipper is imminent. 

Dipper: Not thinking clearly due to sleep deprivation.Mabel: Not thinking clearly, emotionally compromised from a walloping bad day.

Hirsch and company have confirmed that only this combination of factors convinced Dipper to make a deal with a demon. Mabel wouldn’t have shook “Blendin’s” hand in less severe circumstances. It’s ironic that, in Sock Opera and Dipper and Mabel vs the Future, rhetoric attacks Mabel in both episodes.

So yes, Mabel gave Bill the rift. But yes, Dipper jeopardized the town’s safety by letting Bill into his body.

I know that, at this point, people might argue there’s a narrative difference. Dipper learned from his mistake but Mabel didn’t. However, I disagree. There wasn’t dialogue in Sock Opera where Dipper explicitly confronts his transgression and works it out with Mabel on screen. Same thing with Mabel and the rift. I know fans wanted it addressed that Mabel started the apocalypse… and frankly I would’ve enjoyed that too… but it doesn’t make Mabel’s writing as a character suddenly, “OH NO SELFISH SELFISH! AND THE NARRATIVE IS LETTING HER GET AWAY WITH BEING SELFISH!”

It’s no different than how writing handles Dipper in Sock Opera. And again, give a terrified kid a break instead of calling a large emotional low “irrevocably selfish.”

By the time Take Back the Falls comes around, Mabel encourages everyone to work together to fight Bill. Mabel risks her life to save the town and her family. Mabel works together with Dipper and puts the people she loves first.

Lost Legends: Fixing remaining narrative holes

After S2 ended, Mabel’s selfishness is head on tackled. That’s the ENTIRE point of Don’t Dimension It in Lost Legends. I suspect Alex Hirsch read Mabel criticism and intentionally reacted through Lost Legends. In this story, Mabel acts out of self-focused energy and doesn’t realize her actions have negative consequences to others. It puts the Pines family in an interdimensional conundrum. Once Mabel runs into other Mabels from other dimensions, she comes to terms that she’s self-absorbed and needs to be attuned to how others feel. Mabel realizes she put everyone in this mess. She apologizes to her family and resolves to be better.

It’s great.

I’ve still seen people criticize it. And that’s where I think Mabel hate rhetoric definitely goes too far. I suspect there’s bias in how people responded to that comic. By the time Lost Legends came out, criticisms for selfish Mabel were rampant and people were set in their perspectives, so seeing a character arc about Mabel’s selfishness got unfairly nitpicky responses. 

I’ve seen people say things like, “Well, she only learns when she interacts with herself, not with others!” But that’s a cool way of presenting story! Mabel sees herself in a literal mirror and takes away truth. Sometimes we don’t see our flaws until it’s right in our faces. This is Mabel’s in-the-face moment. The “I’m selfish” revelation doesn’t have to be with Dipper to be relevant toward how she treats Dipper. She takes away the full lesson she’s self-absorbed and needs to fix that. She immediately makes sure to talk to Dipper about becoming a better person. She owns responsibility toward how she’s treated her brother - and mentions the entire summer as the scope of her fault.

“I’m sorry for being selfish this summer,” the comic ends. “I guess it took me dealing with myself to realize what you put up with. It’s time for us to start some new adventures! And this time I won’t always hog the spotlight.”

There are other criticisms about Lost Legends, which I feel boil down to “I don’t know, still doesn’t satisfy me, not enough.” It makes me wonder what would get people satisfied. Does every possible angle of how someone could learn selfishness have to be covered thoroughly? No franchise can cover that scope. Isn’t there still lots of takeaway with Mabel? Don’t Dimension It alone is an episode’s worth of material, the same amount of content which most fans deemed enough to wrap up Dipper getting over Wendy, Pacifica being a brat, and Gideon being creepy on Mabel.

Mabel’s selfishness gets addressed, multiple times, and gets a final-final resolution in the comics.

Final Thoughts

I think it’s an interesting point you make, anon friend, that male characters get praised while women get condemned. I haven’t talked about gender aspects or other selfishly-acting male characters like Stanley (whose selfishness people perceive as lovable). I said earlier I don’t think it’s rampant fandom sexism, but there still could be a point there. Maybe you’re right it’s a factor. It wouldn’t be the first time gender perception’s done that.

I think there’s also point to be made that Dipper is the protagonist. Mabel’s a deuteragonist. It’s more common to write life lessons for the protagonist. That’s fine. Dipper learning more lessons than Mabel and Dipper giving up a little more than Mabel is a result of being a protagonist, not narrative excusing Mabel for her flaws or letting her waltz around scott free.

So yeah. I think Mabel’s gotten too much criticism for that flaw. Constructive criticism is almost always interesting in fandom dialogue, but rampant hate movements make me sad. Talking about how narrative structure could’ve been improved I find cool; pinning it on the character’s humanity bothers me. I think lots of the dialogue turns into criticizing Mabel unfairly as a person, and given as other GF characters have glaring flaws, it feels imbalanced and uncomfortable that SHE gets disproportionate attacks. 

This is Mabel we’re talking about. Mabel Pines, who’s SO selfish she tries to rescue Mermando when that means she’ll never see him again. Mabel Pines, who’s SO selfish she knits everyone sweaters during the Apocalypse. Mabel Pines, who’s SO selfish she calls out Dipper when he’s leading on Candy. Mabel Pines, who risks her life in multiple daring moves to save the town, parachuting through the sky into the demon’s lair… acting as a decoy to distract Bill Cipher… and more. Mabel Pines, who spends an entire episode trying to make everyone happy, down to Robbie, whom everyone else didn’t care enough about (but Mabel did!!!). Mabel Pines, who encourages Soos to date women and find a romantic connection he’s satisfied with. Mabel Pines, who fights in Globnar and risks her life, just so Soos can have a happy birthday and forget about his dad. Mabel Pines, who decides it’s better to be friends with her enemy Pacifica than fight petty battles. Mabel Pines, whose love for her brother helps even the thirty year rift between Stan and Ford mend. Mabel, who couldn’t give up on Stan and found a way to restore his memories when all others thought it lost. Mabel. Fucking. Pines!