#but sometimes i can’t help but think about how i was severely depressed at 18 and doing fuckall in comparison

[nutmeg-cider]

how to reconcile a lifetime of everyone building you an identity around being “the smart one” with the fact that you’re turning out to be the dysfunctional disappointment of the family

[lahooozaherr]

I Will Always Find You

Chapter 1

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Kidnapping, dead parent mention, good relationship with parent, drugging (implied)

MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI. AGELESS/BLANK ACCOUNTS WILL BE BLOCKED.

My tag list (instructions & requirements)

Chapter Summary: You’re a princess attending a diplomat event on Naboo with your father, a senator. He enlists his old friend, Greef Karga, to hire the best he knows to be your bodyguard for the week. Meeting the Mandalorian sparks a mutual fascination between you and him.

A/N: This takes place between season 2 and Book of Boba Fett although I do take some liberties with canon. The Razor Crest still exists because obvious reasons. Space birth control is a thing. Trying to bring out the sassy Din I know exists. It’s been over ten years since I’ve written and posted fanfic so please be gentle with me!

Song Inspo: Safety Net by Arianna Grande

Inspo Playlist

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Read it on AO3

Present Day

Wherever you were, it was dark and humid. Sometimes the sun shined through the small, barred window of the room you were placed in. It had been a few days, or at least that’s what it felt like to you, but you hadn’t kept count. Twice a day, meager rations were placed into your room quickly by someone you never really saw.

You couldn’t help but think how this was such a pathetic way to die. Slowly, but surely, you were losing any hope or will to live and any fight left in you also diminished quickly. The timing of all of this was awful. Saying goodbye to the Mandalorian had left a hole in your heart. Life would just never be the same after him.

If only you had told him how you felt. The thought of that had only made you more depressed, given your current situation. That last goodbye, full of unspoken feelings and confessions that wouldn't leave the confines of your beating chests, was all you could think about, aside from your duties as princess, your relationship with your father, and wanting so badly to help his burden as senator. And all of that amounted to this? What a cruel joke the universe had played on you.

The jingling of keys jerked your attention towards the door. A man you don’t recognize walks in, he is probably the same person who's been bringing you your “meals”, if you can call them that. You remained on the small, creaking bed that had been the only piece of furniture in the room besides a makeshift privy.

“We’re leaving later today,” he leans forward with a cloth and wraps it around your eyes. You don’t bother to say anything, the small bruises on your body are enough evidence that asking questions will get you no answers anyways.

After wrapping the cloth around your head and securing it around your eyes, he grabs your wrists. You hear the click of fasteners and drop your hands to your lap. Finally, you hear his footsteps exit the room and you’re alone again.

What was the point of this? To make sure you can’t tell where you’re being taken? It’s hard to care anymore. That flame of self preservation has been increasingly low and dull the more the days drag on.

You had been kidnapped, you know that much at least. Not by who, though. It had happened on a random stop for fuel and supplies on the way back to your home planet. It was during your walk through the market near that stop, telling your father you’d be quick. The planet seemed safe enough but you’d guess that judgment was wrong, evidently.

The whole event was a blur after you had been grabbed back into an alley, made to smell a cloth and pass out. Since then you’ve been met with sneers and silence from the few you’ve seen of your captors. They didn’t harm you but they also didn’t care how they handled you, thus the bruising. Wherever you were, you could tell it at least housed several of them. This must be where they kept you before they decided what to do with you. For all you knew, they could have taken you to an entirely different planet while you were unconscious.

You’ve wondered if you’d be found. Would the Mandalorian find you? Or is he really long gone? Your father had to have at least tried to contact someone.

You sink back into yourself on the thin mattress, slipping back into a dreamless sleep.

—————————————————————————

Two weeks earlier…

It wasn’t long ago that Din had to leave Grogu with the Jedi. Grief had been a foreign emotion to him until then. So he dealt with it the only way he knew how: distract himself seeking quarries. Greef Karga had plenty of bounties for him under the table while he rebuilt Nevarro.

He made his way towards Karga’s office, weaving through the bustling city Nevarro had become in recent months. Merchants sold their goods and civilians worked together to build and improve their infrastructure.

The communication Karga sent to Din had been vague.

“Come see me when you’re done with this job, I have a new, interesting one for you.”

Din had originally scoffed at the statement. Interesting? Probably more like a headache. Karga was regularly roping him into weird and sometimes, very inconvenient, jobs. But he’d always at least hear him out.

Entering his office, Karga turns to him and smiles, “Mando!” The two clasp arms and shake, their usual greeting to each other. “Please, sit.” Gesturing him to the seat in front of his desk. He sits in his own chair and folds his hands out in front of him.

“I’m assuming you got my message!”

“Yes, saying you had an interesting job. Define interesting?”

Karga laughs, “you know me too well Mando. But I promise, this isn’t the usual ‘interesting’ I bring you on for. However, it is still very important.”

Din crosses his arm and leans back into the chair, tilting his helm to signal him to continue.

“A diplomatic gathering is happening in Naboo, one that I’m attending. A very good friend of mine, who is a senator, is requesting a bodyguard for his daughter. He asked me for my best and most trustworthy guy, and that guy is you.”

Din lightly hums, “a body guard while they’re in Naboo? Doesn’t that seem a bit much?”

“I see what you’re saying, my friend, but there’s more to it. We’ve caught word that a warlord seeks control of their territory and….lineage. It’s very important to him that his daughter’s protection is made a priority.”

“Lineage? Because they’re royalty?”

“That’s correct. She’s a princess. She will also be attending the events, their plan is for her to take on more of a senator role and take her father’s place one day.”

Din mulls the details over in his mind for a moment. Karga was right about it being interesting, but it’s nothing he couldn’t handle. If anything it was interesting that Karga had a friend who was royalty.

Karga continues, “you will be paid, very well if I might add. Your lodging and transportation will also be paid for. You and I will travel together.”

“Why not? Sure, I’ll do it.”

Karga claps his hands and stands up, “excellent! I’ll have my ship prepared and we’ll leave in due time.”

—————————————————————————

Naboo has to be one of your favorite places to visit. Your home planet had its own fair share of greenery, lakes and culture but it wasn’t as much as Naboo. Your family’s bloodline were far off cousins to the royalty here and thus you always had somewhere to stay when you were here.

For the entire week leading up to the trip, you thoroughly prepared yourself. You had classes and meetings to be attending soon and you wanted to do your best to properly represent your homeland. Your father had done well to provide you with everything you’d need, from learning etiquette as a senator but as well as politics and diplomacy.

A spacious room had been provided for you, already filled with some of your possessions and needed materials. You sat at a small vanity in the corner of the room, touching up your hair and makeup. Meetings didn’t start today but you’d be making rounds with your father regardless.

“You can do this,” you mouthed to your reflection in the mirror. You didn’t 100% believe yourself though. There was immense pressure to take on the responsibility, though you knew your father would never force you. You wanted to help him, the most selfless and hardworking man that you looked up to more than anyone else in the galaxy. More than that, you wanted to improve your leadership skills for the sake of your people.

But a nagging feeling you’ve tried to squash in recent years always crept at the back of your mind. Is this what you really want? It was easier to keep that thought in the dark and to not question it. But that became more difficult the older you grew.

Would your father be disappointed in you if you chose another path in life? Probably not. But he was also aging, and that worried you always. Losing your mother a few years ago had seemed to fast track that aging. He is a compassionate and caring leader, and an adoring father, all in spite of losing the love of his life. You struggled with the thought of leaving him to deal with everything on his own.

Suddenly you hear your father knocking at your door, “can I come in?”

“Yes father!” You call out to him. The door to your room slides open. You can see him from behind you in the mirror. His smile is bright and warm, as always when he looks at you. Keeping eye contact with him in the mirror, he comes up behind you and places his hands on your shoulders.

“You remind me so much of your mother.”

“You always say that,” you smile back at him.

“And I mean it, every single time,” he lays a soft kiss to the back of your head. “Are you almost ready? We have some people waiting for us.”

You furrow your brow, “really? Who?”

He smiles, “it’s a surprise, you’ll see.”

—————————————————————————

After landing the ship in a nearby port, Din and Karga soon found themselves walking through the expansive, wide halls of one of Naboo’s palaces. This one was reserved for events like this. Senators and other political figures got to stay in the provided lodging of the palace, very convenient for the activities of that week.

Much like the rest of Naboo, the palace was beautiful. Lush gardens lined several courtyards within its walls, perfect for gathering with others or even just oneself. The halls were made of a shiny granite, any steps across it left a small clicking noise that echoed in the comfortable silence.

The two came upon a small, more private courtyard. Complete with a stone bench and small fountain in the middle. To the far side there was a door to someone’s quarters, Din had figured.

“Alright, we should be meeting them here,” Karga says while looking around the area.

“This is exciting for me,” he beams. “This year I was finally invited, with a good word in from my friend. This will be great for relations for the society Nevarro is becoming.”

Din is half listening, taking in his surroundings while still as a statue. It didn’t matter so much to him, this was just another job. Another thing to keep him busy, to keep him from missing Grogu.

“Karga!” The voice comes from another man who looks about Karga’s age, emerging from the door in the courtyard. “My friend, it’s been too long!”

The two share a hearty laugh and hug, patting each other on the shoulder respectively. Pulling away, they lock hands and shake.

“Likewise, Senator,” Karga turns and gestures towards Din.

“Mando, this is the Senator, my good friend and our client for this week.”

The Senator reaches his hand out and Din reciprocates, shaking it, “so this is the Mandalorian I’ve heard so much about! I’m so grateful you took the job.”

Din nods and steps back into position.

“My daughter should be out here in just a few minutes. She’s been very nervous about this week. My own nerves are eased knowing I can trust her in your care. Karga has told me a great deal about you, and anyone he trusts that much has earned mine as well. You’ve been made aware of our situation, I hope?” He queries Karga, who nods in response.

“Of course, I made sure.”

“I’m very grateful. I will spare no costs to make sure my daughter is safe.”

Din notices the glimmer of fear in the Senator’s eyes. Karga shared more details about the warlord threatening them on the way to Naboo. He found it odd that this warlord had chosen, what seemed to him, a random planet. Despite its royalty and trading, it was a more distant planet in the outer rim not too many others knew about.

“Then what is so special about this planet?” Din asks, really more so thinking out loud.

“Probably because they seem weaker, and have similar resources to Naboo. They are smaller and lesser known, for a warlord that’s an ideal place to set roots and control,” Karga replies, nonchalantly. “It’s not exactly that they’re weak, but they’ve chosen to keep more to themselves. But times change and relations have to be made to keep their economy running. That draws attention.

“What does the daughter have to do with it then? Why target her?”

“Well, negotiation for starters. Ransom. A threat directly to their lineage. If she’s killed, there’s one less direct descendant to take on their leadership when their current senator is retired or passed on. Although, I doubt the plan is to try and kill her right away.”

“Right. Makes more sense to hold her hostage, I guess.”

Karga sighs, “You’re probably right. And without much of an army at this time, they can’t afford to take them with them.”

____________________________________________

Leaving the door to your room into its adjoining courtyard, you notice your father standing with two other figures.

“Father?”

All three men turn to face you, your father’s smiles, “There you are! Gentlemen, this is my beautiful daughter.”

With part of the gown you’re wearing bunched in one hand to give you room to walk, you descend the small stairs and approach them. Smiling and bowing your head slightly, the two other men do the same in response. “It’s nice to meet you…” shooting your father a clueless look.

Your father clears his throat, “my dear, this is a good friend of mine, Greef Karga.” Karga nods in acknowledgement, holding his hand out for you. You take it gently and allow him to give it a small squeeze before returning it to yourself.

“I’m sure you don’t remember me, the last I saw of you, you were still an infant. You have grown into such a lovely young woman.”

“Thank you, that’s so kind. It’s nice to meet you again.”

Your father quickly interjects, “And the surprise for you, my darling.” He points to the steel clad figure standing next to Karga. “The Mandalorian I have hired as your bodyguard this week.”

Distracted might be an understatement when you first spotted him. Compared to you, he was tall and intimidating. His armor is made of beskar, shining in the sunlight. You were immediately intrigued by him. Mandalorian culture came up in your studies plenty of times, and you had a vague knowledge of it stored in your memory.

The Mandalorian is silent, only giving you a small nod, and you respond in kind. Very fitting for someone like him to be silent and emotionless. You wanted to know more about him. Aside from the bodyguard detail, you understood why your father kept this as a surprise, he knew better than anyone what interests you and your thirst for knowledge.

Your father claps his hands, “Shall we show you two around?”

Karga waves ahead, “By all means!”

Karga and your father walk ahead, leaving you and the Mandalorian to follow behind, side by side. You wanted to keep staring at him but tried not to, you didn’t want to seem rude and you certainly couldn’t tell where his eyes were. Yet.

Approaching another set of small stairs, you habitually gather a corner of your gown to free up room for your feet to step down. Karga holds his hand out to you once more, this time to help you.

Once at the bottom of the small staircase, Karga points at the Mandalorian, “Mando, learn to do that for her. It’s proper.”

The Mandalorian tilts his helmet at him, your face starts to heat up, “Oh please it’s really not necessary!”

He laughs and returns to your father’s side, walking ahead. Both of you follow behind them, now in a sort of awkward silence. You mull over in your head what you could say but you’re afraid of sounding….immature? Incompetent?

“I-I’m sorry,” you begin. “Please don’t worry about something like that.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t respond right away and it makes you even more nervous. Finally, he replies, “Do you plan to wear more outfits like that?”

You felt flustered, quickly. This is the first time you’re hearing his voice, although modulated because of his helmet. Your curiosity only grew.

“Uhm, yes…”

“Then I will help you,” he says, with a hint of softness that somehow filtered through his helmet.

Your now racing heart doesn’t relent and you find yourself seriously questioning why.

—————————————————————————

Karga and your father might as well have their own bubble, leading your group while they engage in deep conversation and play catch up.

Unfortunately this left you and the Mandalorian in a sort of awkward silence. Well, awkward to you at least. He’s probably fine, probably prefers it that way. You had hundreds of questions you could ask but none that were appropriate after only just meeting him. You searched your mind for ways to break the ice.

“Do youuuu…..get jobs like this a lot?” You decided to shoot that one out.

“No.”

Dammit. Of course. New question.

“What kind of jobs do you usually get, then?”

“Bounties.”

Maker, this was almost painful. Intimidating might have been an understatement for you. Something in you wanted to fight for his attention, his actual attention. Not what he was paid to do.

Your small group would come to stops here and there, your father guiding your guests and showing them where everything is and what’s what. You’d occasionally pass others who would nod in your direction and carry on. The palace was peaceful and quiet.

“Are you ok?” His voice startled you out of your thoughts. You glance his way without turning your head.

“Yes. Why?”

“Your heart rate is spiking.”

Oh no, he can tell? Because of his helmet? How embarrassing.

You let out a deep sigh, “this is my first time meeting a Mandalorian. Admittedly, I’m trying to come up with a conversation without prying too much.”

“That makes you nervous?”

“You’re tall, silent and intimidating. Of course.”

A small chuckle escapes his helmet in response to your sudden casual attitude, taking you by surprise. Did you somehow pull a laugh out of him?

“I’ll give you that.”

You smirk and let your eyes wander. Maybe this won’t be as hard as you had thought.

—————————————————————————

The way you look at him is…..different. Din is a trained warrior, he’s skilled in being able to read others. You wear your emotions and thoughts on your face pretty clearly. What he’s not exactly prepared for is the kind of emotions you’re displaying. When he first met your eyes (unbeknownst to you) he saw you look him up and down, curiously. A small smirk on your lips and your eyes change from inquisitive to….excitement? Was he reading that right?

At some point, your father’s tour tapered off. Karga suggested going into the nearby market for food and your father insisted. All four of you are now seated outside of a restaurant. Din, of course, did not eat. So that left him with more time to sit back, cross his arms over his chest and observe you.

It was hard to get a word in edgewise with your father and Karga. It felt like they had never stopped talking, having years to catch up on each other. He’d watch as you sat silently, your eyes would flit between the two of them, him and around you. Here and there you’d stop to stare at him for a minute, observing him right back. But you didn’t have the shield of a helmet to hide the eyes you gave him.

After finishing your food you started to become visibly impatient. You finally find a small moment of silence between those two and interject.

“Father, I’d like to wander around the market for a while if that’s alright with you. I’ll meet back up with you tonight?” You shoot him a look in your eyes that Din can definitely understand. Please let me go. I'm so bored.

He smiles back at you, although cautiously. He seems to hesitate, pausing before saying “Yes. Of course. Of course!” You stand up from your chair and stretch, Din also rises from his seat and stands.

“Don’t give the Mandalorian any trouble,” he winks at you, giving your hand a small squeeze before letting go. You give him a small tch with your tongue, rolling your eyes and turning to leave. Your father and Karga laugh heartily before resuming their previous conversation.

Din catches up to you and you let out a big sigh, “I’m sorry, any longer and I would have fallen asleep!”

“Karga has that effect on people sometimes.”

“You’re lucky though, you have a helmet, you could sleep and no one would really know.”

Din hums, amused, “don’t tell anyone.”

You couldn’t help but cackle back at his unexpected quip. You know for sure now that there’s a living, breathing person under there.

—————————————————————————

You’d noticed the Mandalorian does an excellent job of making himself look broad and strong. He was definitely a man of few words, so you tried to pay extra attention to his body language and mannerisms, which was still almost scarce on its own.

His armor glinted in the early evening light. Night life was starting up in the small area of town you were in. Some shops remained open alongside merchant stands and food vendors. Perfect timing on getting away from your father and Karga, otherwise you’d probably be dozing off.

But that still meant you were left in another silent moment like before. Only this time, the Mandalorian followed you.

You want to say more and break the silence, but your mind draws blanks on what to say. You finally settle with, “So! Uh, can I call you something? Maybe your name?” He’s silent for a minute before responding, “Mando is fine.”

Ah. Yes. Mando. Very creative.

“You don’t tell anyone your real name, do you?”

He glances at you on his side and nods.

“No, I don’t try to.”

He walked beside you as you took your time looking through merchant tables down the street of the city. The choices of items were almost endless. Clothes, books, and trinkets.

“So….besides standing around and brooding, what else can you tell me about yourself?”

He does a double take at you; you’re starting to run a record for most unexpected things ever said to him before. “Brooding?”

You laugh before turning to face him, the black T of his visor peering down at you. You had gotten close enough to him to really take in how broad he really is. A tension slowly built between you.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m just so fascinated by you”

“Yeah? Why?”

“I wonder just who you are, under that cool demeanor.”

He lets out something between a scoff and a laugh.

He’s used to the mixture of camaraderie or fear others tend to have towards him. But this? His brain almost short circuits, having to take a few minutes to process what you said. His helmet system alerts him to his own pickup in heart rate.

He settles on saying nothing, as usual, and you’ve already learned to not be bothered by that. You take it as an answer itself, sort of. You turn back to the table you’re standing at, browsing the small piles of clothing.

It was like the more the ice melted away between the two of you, the more you felt attuned to him. Maybe it was real or just your imagination, but if felt like you could start to tell where you think he’s looking at. You’d see his hands move in particular ways, clenching his fists at his sides or casually hooking his thumb into his bandolier.

The evening sky grew darker and the streets were lined in lanterns and lights. Music played somewhere in the distance, the crowd slowly died down. You decided it was time to head back, with Mando following after you.

You both turn down a quiet pathway. The silence between you had grown more comfortable. Fatigue has started to settle in your bones. You yawn and drop your shoulders, “just seven days. Seven days of dressing up and making appearances.”

“Do you have to dress like that everyday?” He asks, not that he exactly minds. The way you dress yourself is proper, ethereal. It was one of the first things he noticed about you. Which makes sense, because you’re royalty. Right, that’s why he noticed.

“I have to represent my family, and my home, so yes. I have to look my best every day.”

You pause for a moment, your eyes staring off into the distance as if you were mentally somewhere else.

“It’s like my armor,” you add, softly smiling to yourself.

Mando notices the distant look in your eye, and the sound of your voice. A sudden sadness had seemed to creep in. Something about seeing you like that pulled at his heart.

As if returning to yourself, you snap your eyes to meet his visor and smile.

He recognizes that look, the feeling emanating off of you. That was your wall, your learned defense mechanism. He knows underneath his armor, he’s a grieving man. A man who is not sure of his path anymore. An apostate.

He wonders who you are, under the well pampered, royal facade. Underneath the manners and gowns.

He mentally agrees, the fascination between you two is mutual.

—————————————————————————-

You’ve really got to start putting on that charm you know you have.

Wait, why are you telling yourself that?

For fun, of course.

If you’re going to be stuck doing this for seven days, you might as well have fun during it. Is striking up a flirtatious banter with the Mandalorian so bad? You’re curious.

Everything about him says “don’t fuck with me.” You’d noticed the glances he got, from the town to even inside the palace. The way crowds parted for him and others looked on and whispered.

You don’t think father thought that through when he hired the Mandalorian. All in an effort to protect you from potential dangers and he has, now, brought more attention to you. But you can’t necessarily blame him. Mando seemed more than capable and his reputation precedes him just from the looks he’s getting everywhere you go.

He had a swagger in his walk and gave off an aura that says he knows he’s a walking deadly weapon.

And all of that combined was exciting to you. It made your heart stutter. Maybe you should ponder that, but you put that thought aside for later.

You have felt his gaze since you met. At first you’d thought you were being paranoid, or maybe self indulgent, you weren’t sure of which at the time. But you’re more certain of it now. Especially when you sat across from him at dinner. But that’s what he’s getting paid to do, right?

Now, as you walk alongside him back to the palace, you’re mentally bashing yourself. You told him you felt like your gowns were like armor and felt ridiculous. There is no comparison of your clothes to his cold beskar. After a smile, you change the subject, opting for the bolder route.

“I’ve felt your eyes on me all day.”

Mando remains silent, looking ahead. You half expect him to scoff. Instead, he stops walking. You stop in front, facing him. In the nick of time, you two had made it to the garden area outside of the door to your suite.

“I could say the same for you.”

Your stomach flips, even though you already knew you weren’t exactly hiding when you watched him. He leans back on his legs and crosses his arms, waiting for your reply.

Right, yes, a reply. Hurry, and think of something to quip back at him.

“Is that wrong?”

He hums, considers your question, “no, just more obvious.”

“Yes, well, not all of us have the luxury of anonymity right now,” you nod your head to him, he shrugs.

You raise an eyebrow and smile, “so you admit it? You’ve been watching me all day.”

His stance freezes, and now you know you’ve got him, you smirk.

He steps closer to you, just enough to barely brush against you. His form is wide and tense, “it’s my job.”

There’s a small tone in his voice. Darker, smooth and matter of fact.

Your eyes drift from down up and focus on where you expect his eyes to be, you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. This is suddenly a contest of confidence, and you muster any bit you’ve got left in you.

“In that case, Mandalorian,” your voice drifts, breathy and low, you run a finger across his chest plate as you strut past him, “I will just have to give you more to watch.”

You peer at him over your shoulder and smile. “I’ll see you back here in the morning,” he says. You notice his stature becoming more relaxed. One hand on his hip, knee popped out, he watches you disappear inside.

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank you @veggiestreehugger so much for beta-reading this for me 😭❤️

[maslin-a]

Shigaraki Tomura/Reader

hints of depression

dark content

I don't know how to make notes, yes sorry

in general there will be rape and bullying and very sad topics

not for persons under 18

I don't speak English, so I use a translator yeah sorry about that

Breathing heavily, you ran forward, sometimes looking back. Every time the silhouette from behind disappeared from view, you stopped and nervously looked around. Your strength was already leaving you, and each such action gave you a chance for a break. Fear enveloped my entire body. I wanted to cry and scream from resentment and injustice. Stumbling, you cursed the day when Dabi came over to “just chat about this and that,” and you still agreed. Who knew that this would end up causing such a reaction from the head of the League of Villains?

You first met him about six months ago. Sitting under an abandoned bridge in some forest, you looked at your feet. There was no longer any strength for any hysterics or banal tears. Everything was going wrong and I simply didn’t have enough strength.

Bend your knees and sigh. You were thinking about how to end your suffering. You are weak. Always been like this. And you understood this. All the people around you constantly told you this. You recalled out loud all the words that your loved ones said to you.

- I think they are right...

You winced. For a second it seemed to you that a homeless person or some kind of crazy person was standing in front of you, but having a better look at the person standing opposite, you realized that he was an ordinary guy, or rather, not quite ordinary: there was some kind of plastic hand on his face, he was dressed very simply, but it’s clear that it’s dirty—both the clothes and the guy himself looked shabby, but you can’t say he’s homeless.

- Who are you? — you asked him in a whisper.

The guy looked at you silently. It was difficult to notice, but the guy looked at you appraisingly.

“It’s a quirk,” the guy said briefly.

- What? - You are perplexed.

— What quirk? — The guy seems to have already started to boil.

- *your ability*

- Not bad... Very good... - the guy fell silent again, lost in his thoughts.

You didn't dare say a word.

— You want to die, right? — the guy suddenly asked.

— Something like that... It’s better this way than to suffer all your life and...

- So yes or no? I don't care what happened there.

- Yes..

- Wonderful. Since you still have no meaning to live, I will give you this meaning. If you work for me, I will need you.

— I guess I have no choice?..

- Well, I can help you end your miserable life, or give it meaning.

- Then I agree.

After that you started working for him. A little later, or rather in the not-so-distant future, you found out his name and Tomura’s approximate age. Working for Shigaraki turned out to be very difficult: for any offense or disobedience you were severely punished, so severely that sometimes there was no living space left on you. Shigaraki's favorite torture was hide and seek. The guy would choose some abandoned building and give you some time to hide. Most often it was 4 seconds, sometimes, when he was in a fairly high mood, he would give 5 seconds. When he found you, he gave you another 2 seconds to run away from him, and then it was more like catching up.

And now you were running away from him. And the situation that caused everything to happen is completely unimaginable. For the first time in a long time, you met with the entire League. Before this, you only knew Kurogiri. You were given special attention by Dabi, a strange guy who kept trying to “get close” to you. Understanding perfectly well what awaits you, if you let him get even a millimeter closer to you, you will get in trouble, you tried to stay away from him. Shigaraki never took his eyes off of you when Dabi was around. Giving up, you supported the conversation about medicine and later regretted it. Slamming his hands loudly on the table, Tomura came up to you and, taking you by the elbow, led you somewhere.

According to Shigaraki, today you had to pay for your behavior. It was not difficult to guess what awaited you.

It began to rain suddenly. And so, from accumulated emotions and fear, my legs began to tremble treacherously. You slipped and fell. It was painful, offensive, I wanted to scream and cry. You no longer had enough strength to do anything, but you stubbornly tried to get up. As a result, having accepted your inevitable fate, you turned over on your back and began to wait for the guy. A little time passed when he was already standing next to you. Taking your hand, Tomura forced you to stand, and when you were already standing on your own two feet, he pressed you against the wall. Cold, wet and dirty, you did not resist at all. Shigaraki did not stand on ceremony: he forcefully sat you on his knees, unzipped his fly, and began tapping his dick on your face. Already knowing what awaited you, you obediently opened your mouth, while closing your eyes. Tomura grinned.

- You're acting like a whore! So she just opened her filthy mouth to take my dick...

Shigaraki put his penis in your mouth and, moving his hand to your neck, squeezed with force, sticking out his little finger so as not to kill the girl ahead of time. You whimpered but shook your head in agreement.

- Come on, work your dirty mouth to please the one you are obliged to please! — Tomura pressed down on your head with force.

No matter how much experience you had, it was very difficult to take it. You began to move your head, swallowing the cock to satisfy Shigaraki. It was unbearably painful and disgusting. When you couldn’t bear it anymore, you started scratching him.

Slap in the face. Tomura grabbed you and pulled you to your feet. Pressed against the wall again, you tried to make as little noise as possible. At this time, Shigaraki had already torn his underwear and entered sharply. The pain was unbearable. Even more unpleasant than when he pounded into the throat. Shigaraki began to move quickly and jerkily. You wanted to scream from the pain spreading through your body, but you understood that this would only get worse.

- Hurt? You deserve this pain. You should feel everything that I felt when you chatted with this garbage. — Shigaraki grabbed your face and brought you closer to him. - Pathetic whore!

It's disgusting and offensive. You understood that you were really pathetic, but you couldn’t do anything about it, and even if you tried, you would make it worse, especially since you already tried and got it badly. There was only one thing that bothered you: everything he said. Is he... Jealous of you? He was jealous of you and Dabi. If he’s jealous, it means... He loves... A smile appeared on your face. Noticing that you were smiling, Tomura was taken aback.

- Why are you smiling?! You must feel disgusting and unpleasant! You must hate me!

“You’re in a lot of pain right now too...” you said barely audibly. - If the fact that it hurts me makes you feel better, then fine, I’ll endure it all...

- What?!

Tomura tossed you aside. Pulling on his clothes, he came up to you writhing on the ground and, sitting on top, grabbed you by the neck and began screaming.

- Why are you smiling?! Stop it! You must beg me for mercy! You should cry and scream, not smile! Stop it! — the guy stopped shouting and continued absolutely calmly. “I’ll wipe that stupid smile off your face forever!”

Tomura moved his hand towards your face. When the fingers were almost touching you, you whispered just two words

- Love you…

The last two words, and the body began to turn into ashes. Tomura watched with absolute incomprehension as your body turned to dust. When he realized what had happened, the guy began to shake his head to the sides and scream.

- No no no no no! You shouldn't have died like that! Why did you say that?! Do you want me to suffer even after your death?! I hate you! I hate it! I hate your stupid eyes! I hate your stupid hair! I hate your stupid smile! I hate you!

A sharp stream of wind lifted what once was you into the air, and the ashes scattered across the sky. Tomura rose to his feet and wanted to run after the ashes, but stopped. There is still something left of you on your hands. Raising his hands up, the guy let go of the ashes, which were immediately picked up by a stream of wind, and they scattered across the sky.

- I hate you! - Tomura whispered, smiling sadly.

Shigaraki turned around and went back. You'll have to explain where and why you disappeared... And you'll also have to look for new people for the League... Kurogiri will have more work... Toga will pester you with questions... And Dabi will make jokes and sarcastic remarks as usual...

And also loneliness...

He will be lonely again...

[dropintomanga]

Medalist - The Best Manga (Almost) No One Is Reading

“I want to strongly believe I can do it. I hate how much I know about the no-good side of me. I want to be more like the girl Coach Tsukasa believes in. I want to be someone I can believe in!”

Sometime last year, I was overhearing talk from manga bloggers/reviewers about a certain under-the-radar Kodansha title that deserves more attention. I later found out that it was licensed in the U.S. and also won several awards in Japan. This manga is about a sport that I’m not knowledgeable about (but has gained a lot of attention due to a anime series I’m sure people know called Yuri!!! on Ice!!), figure skating. This past week, I got to read the 1st 4 volumes of Tsurumaikada’s critically-acclaimed Medalist and finally saw what I was missing.

I don’t know a damn thing about figure skating, but I sure as hell know a great manga when I see it. And Medalist is just that.

Medalist focuses on the journey to become a competitive figure skater in Japan through the eyes of a child and her coach. The main character in question, Inori Yuitsuka, is a 5th grader who’s noted to be bad at everything in life so far except ice skating. However, she skates in secret as she has little access to skating rinks and she’s also considered to be “too old” to start competitive training. It isn’t until she meets her future coach, Tsukasa Akeuraji, that her life changes. Tsukasa had aspiring dreams to become a pro figure skater, but wasn’t able to due to starting at a later age. He becomes depressed over life due to not achieving anything significant in his figure skating career. When Tsukasa meets Inori, he realizes that she’s the same as him and decides to help her realize her dreams of becoming a pro figure skating medalist no matter what.

The art in this series is incredible. The figure skating scenes are well-done, but what really shines are the character interactions. Inori won the Magademy 2023 award for best female character and I can see why she won. She’s a kid who’s trying her damn best to challenge her insecurities via her passion for ice skating. I can’t help but be moved when Inori says something important to get her point across.

Tsukasa is a relatable character to those who feel lost at their hobby. As someone who feels like they started “late” for a competitive interest where it’s best to start young, I get where Tsukasa is coming from. This applies to my now-daily interest in Japanese mahjong. I’m well-past the general demographic (18-34) for the game in the U.S. as I started playing at the age of 38. There’s obviously certain barriers (mostly life responsibility-related), but I recently experienced the joy of helping a beginner get through a game in-person. I think, like Tsukasa, I want to at least help the next generation of mahjong players get started and find their paths to become better players.

Inori and Tsukasa’s relationship is amazing and well-written. Every great athlete needs a coach to bring out the best in them. However, if the coach/athlete relationship is based on how much an athlete wins, it will not go well. This becomes complicated when it comes to coaching children. With the exception of Inori being a 5th grader, Medalist focuses on aspiring 3rd grade figure skaters who are, for the most part, level-headed. But they all have personality quirks that can get in the way of achieving greatness. This manga does a great job in illustrating the coach/athlete dynamic when it comes to very young children. It’s something I don’t see in most media.

One of my favorite moments is in Volume 2 where Inori boldly tells her mother that she will get 1st place in a preliminary showing at a major cup and attempt techniques that appear to be hard for her. Inori’s mother didn’t really approve of Tsukasa getting her daughter into the world of pro figure skating at the start. But once she saw Inori look like an absolute gem in the making on the rink, she laments that she never thought of Inori’s feelings out of a fear of being hurt inside. I don’t know about any of you, but in my experience, my mother told me not to push myself so hard because of my mental limitations. She has told me not to try super-challenging jobs due to my depression. I think maybe she was trying to make sure she didn’t get hurt by my struggles and look like a bad parent to others. Part of it was also my own fault since I looked at the labeling I was prescribed a bit too seriously. 

So yeah, seeing Inori’s mother know that Inori can actually do something meaningful with her life got me emotional. I do feel that some parents are really overprotective over their children and what they should be doing in life. I don’t blame them because failure over things that aren’t the norm will always be scary. Plus, not every dream will come true. Yet I know what every child wants from their parent is to believe in their ability to become whatever it is they want to be/do and that they’ll have their support no matter what. I wish more parents opened their eyes enough to see that.

I could go on and on about Medalist, but I’ll stop here. This is a fantastic series to read for anyone interested in relating to ambitious children and being there for them in realistic ways. Medalist is a bold story that details what it takes to create a winning environment for children, parents, and the communities around them. 

[dietdrpepper4me]

Hello. My name is Marie. I’m not really sure how to do this because blogging is pretty foreign to me, but I wanted to introduce myself. Some things to know about me are that I am 18 years old, a senior in high school, and I hate my life. I’m genderfluid and use whatever pronouns.

Now to the important stuff. I have bulimia and have had it for basically my entire life. I typically switch between starving myself and binging, which is why I am still obese. Several people in my family have eating disorders including both anorexia and binge eating disorder. On top of that I also have pretty severe depression, anxiety, and more.

My problem is that I am currently 200 pounds and I am miserable. At one point I weighed 240 pounds and for the last year I have been gaining and losing the same 15 pounds. My weight typically ranges from 190-205 depending on my eating habits. I am honestly so overwhelmed and constantly suicidal because of my body. All I think about all the time is food and weight loss. I’ve tried losing weight in a healthy way and I’ve tried extreme dieting or extreme exercise. No matter what I do I either can’t lose the weight or I can’t keep it off. I don’t know what to do with myself because I am at a point where I feel so hopeless that I think it would be more realistic for me to just kill myself since losing weight is impossible for me. I’ve tried starving myself but it’s like I can’t stop eating all the time. I feel like I physically cannot pull myself away from food sometimes and half the time I’m not even hungry.

I’m just looking for some support and advice because I am so unbelievably frustrated and I want nothing more than to finally feel like I’m not constantly at war with myself. Please feel free to interact with me in any way. If you want more information about me let me know. Thank you in advance for any help.

[ctrl-alt-deleting-yr-face]

i’m breaking down because i’m processing one of the major things that’s been keeping me depressed because of a poem written by my friend leaf @leafgorge so uh i’m just gonna vent for a minute. not really venting and more just writing my thoughts down to process them all better. tw for mentions of suicidal thoughts, sh thoughts, possible ed, depression

i’ve been in a deep depression for several weeks now

i’ve been breaking down and not sleeping and struggling to eat and just constantly paranoid

constantly worrying about the state of the planet and if i’ll make it to adulthood and if i even deserve to exist in this world

it’s been reaching a point where my thoughts have been. very dark

i’ve wanted to hurt myself despite my mom saying it’s wrong. i’ve been willingly skipping some meals and just sleeping off my hunger instead. i’ve been forcing myself to research things that bother me as a pushment. just wasting away in my room berating myself for being tired and miserable instead of doing anything to help

i’ve been watching my bones slowly become more visible on my body and all i think is “yeah, i deserve it.”

i’ve been becoming suicidal despite being extremely triggered by the topic. i’ve been telling myself that i’ll really end it all if something goes wrong, even though i know it would cause more harm than anything else

i’ve felt like i can’t talk to anyone. i tried to and the person in question wouldn’t listen when i tried to talk. it only made more stressed

and thus i haven’t had the ability to process my thoughts. i haven’t figured out what’s been hurting me. what’s been making me feel so fucked in the head.

until leaf put their poem out

it hit me that. that’s what’s been bothering me as well. i’m just scared

i’m scared of this world and the discrimination in it and i’m scared that i and many of my friends who are also queer or poc or disabled will fall victim to hate crimes or be killed

just because we exist

i just wanna live my life as a normal kid. but i’m scared to. i’m scared that any day i could wake up and my partner could be gone. or my best friend. or anyone i know

i’m so afraid of death and the prejudice in this world that i can barely handle living in it

i’ve felt like i’m not gonna make it to 16, let alone 18

but i want to

i desperately want to

but every day is so hard to push through and sometimes just the thought of waking up in the morning makes me feel sick

i have people who love me. who care about me. and i love them all too. more than i could ever express through words or pictures or anything

i love all of you more than anything

i wanna keep living for all of you. i wanna quit wasting away for all of you.

for noah. for arson. for jella. for rein. for leaf. for vickie. for francie. for isaiah. for rai. for cryptid. for starry and sydney and pebble and moon and all the friends i’ve made irl and online

i want to get better for all of you. i wanna be stronger for all of you.

i’m just scared that i’ll see another person who i loved so dearly die yet again

i’m so scared. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know who to talk to. all i know is i wanna keep living

i don’t want to die

i just need to figure out how to take that first step.

[stoned-kitties]

I fucking hate poetry.

Don’t get me wrong, I used to love poetry. When I was severely depressed, I used to lay in bed and scroll through the poetry tag on tumblr and feel every word I read. It made my bones ache and my chest heavy but I was comforted by the fact that someone else could put my feelings into words better than I could.

I’m better now. Days are brighter and it’s easier to get out of bed in the morning.

3/29/17

I started writing this right before shit went downhill and my entire life fell apart before my eyes. I am not better. I don’t feel anything anymore.

9/26/17

I don’t know how I am. I’m not perpetually depressed, I do have good days. I can laugh. I can smile. But some days I can’t get out of bed. Some days there is still a dark cloud hanging over me. Most days I don’t feel anything. I’m making myself numb at this point. I know I’m doing it, I know exactly when I’m doing it. But I don’t care to stop myself. I don’t care to tell myself, “hey, you should probably stop burying your feelings,” because I already know. I already know how bad it’s going to hurt and I can’t deal with it. Sometimes it creeps up, before I have a chance to detach myself. It’s a burning sensations. It starts in the tips of my ears and fingers and toes. It travels through my veins straight to my chest. It feels like I’m breathing fire at first before I can’t breathe at all. And eventually it turns into a nothingness. I feel hollow. I feel nothing. You took everything I had left.

12/09/17

I miss the hell out of you. I miss being happy when you blew up my phone to come over. I miss being excited when I saw your name. It will always come back to you. I will always compare everyone to you. But I just can’t look at you the same anymore. I do still love you. I think a little part of me will love you forever, but it will never be in quite the same way.

4/7/18

You moved. I hardly see you now. You’re 20 minutes away rather than 5. I know that’s not a huge difference, but it feels like you’re really far away. Theres no more smoking in your garage all day. There’s no more fighting over the comfy chair. You don’t call me at 6am to come over and sit in my car with you in your driveway anymore. We don’t fish in your pond, we don’t lay in your bed while I watch you play Forza. You don’t call me anymore. Part of me feels as though all of this happened just because I was right there, close by. Convenient for you. But the other part of me still believes there was something. You put so much time into me, and it’s hard to believe that it all meant nothing. I still miss the fucking shit out of you. I know you love her. I know you want her. I’m trying to move on. I really am. But trying to forget the happiest times of my life isn’t easy. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I really fucking love you.

4/14/18

I found someone new. It may be too early to be writing about this, but he makes me happy. He is loving, and caring, and he looks at me like I put the stars in the sky. He tells me I’m perfect every day. He tells me I am everything he wants, and no one else matters. I hate sleeping in the same bed with someone else, but I sleep like a baby when he’s next to me. He is the first person that makes me forget about you. Everything you did seems so small now. All of the pain you put me through doesn’t matter anymore. I can feel again. And I’m feeling nothing but love.

It’s too late for you and me. I’m accepting that. I loved you with everything I had. I looked at you like you put the stars in the sky. There was a time when I couldn’t imagine a life without you. But here I am, living it. Godspeed.

5/8/2018

I wish you would let me go. You called me at 5:20 this morning and I didn’t answer. I didn’t know it was a cry for help. I never answer your calls and you still tried. That’s how I knew it was important. I should’ve answered.

Sometimes I still miss you. I still care about you. I think I always will. As soon as I saw that that phone call was a cry for help I immediately had to know that you were okay. Why don’t you call your girlfriend? Why don’t you talk to her? Why did you call me? Of all people? And you’re still seeing her today but still want to talk to me about your problem? I want to be there for you. I want to be your friend. I want to be able to do this. But I just don’t know if I want to be part of your life or if I just want you to forget about me.

5/2/2019

I still miss you all the time. Lots of things remind me of you. Sometimes I wish nothing had ever happened between us because I just miss having you as a friend. We are still friends, but nothing will ever be the same as it was. We’ll never be the same as we were. And that’s okay, I guess. I’m happy now. I’m planning a future with the love of my life. Pieces of the puzzle that I never even knew existed are falling together. We are going to have the life we always wanted. And I don’t think that’s something you and I could have achieved together. So this is for the best. I will always, always think of you every time I drive by a Wendy’s or hear a Post Malone song. I will always remember the time I shared with you. It is something that holds a special corner of my heart all to itself. You helped me grow in ways I didn’t think were possible. I will cherish that forever. I hope you have an unforgettable incredible life, and just know that I will remember your name until the day I die.

10/1/2019

We don’t talk anymore. You text me every couple of months to ask for wax. But we don’t talk, we don’t hang out, we don’t do anything. I think this is for the best. Every time I see you, it still stings. I don’t need you anymore.

11/9/2019

I’m so fucking stupid because I found all of our old texts on my computer and I read all of them and it gave me such a fucking knot in my stomach and I hated it every second of it but I still miss you so fucking bad. I still love you and I fucking hate it. I fucking hate you for all of this I wish we had never fucking met you have screwed me over twice in my fucking life and now I’m ruined because of it. I’m fucking ruined. I wish I had never loved you. I love Aaron with my whole heart and he makes me so fucking happy but I don’t love him like I love you. You were everything to me. I will never love somebody the way I love you. Never. It was so special. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. You were my best fucking friend. I spent EVERY! DAY! WITH YOU! for MONTHS!! Sun up to sun down. If you were going people expected me to be there too. If I was going you were expected to be there too. We. Us. Me and you. Always. Nothing will ever be the same. I will never feel that same feeling for anyone else. I felt like I understood you and you understood me. We laughed until we couldn’t fucking BREATHE and we screamed along to songs together and we did all of our adventuring together and I just want to fucking SCREAM at the TOP of my fucking lungs because I am so fucking sad and I HATE myself for still loving you!!!! It’s been almost three years since this ended but I still fucking think about you every single day. Something always makes me think of you. I still remember the day you kissed me in your driveway and I still remember how I felt like I was living in a movie because everything felt so fucking perfect. You dropped the beer on the ground to grab my face and kissed me hard with both hands pulling me closer to you and you said this felt real and it felt right and it should’ve happened a long time ago and you pushed me up against the hood of my car and kissed me and kissed me and kissed me and I never ever wanted it to fucking stop. We slept in your bed and I loved it and I love you and I loved waking up to your stupid sleepy face and asking me “is the sun out yet?” With droopy eyelids and bed head and that image is burned into my memory for the rest of my life because it was the only moment that I’ve ever felt completely at peace. I felt like I was home. You were my home. I knew I loved you before that moment but that was it for me. That was me swallowing the key and signing my life away to you because that’s all I needed. I just needed to wake up to your face every morning. Nothing else in the whole fucking world mattered except you and this moment and I never want to wake up from this dream because it has to be a dream. And that’s all it was. A fucking dream. I will never love anybody the same way I love you. And this is me realizing I have to live the rest of my life with every single memory of you stitched into my brain. I will never forget it. I will never forget us. I will never forget you. I’m so fucking in love with you.

12/16/22

Yeah. I started this five years ago.

If you wanna get technical, it’s been since 2016. I feel just as pathetic about it today as I did then.

There’s nothing left to hold on to other than my memories. I wish the friendship was still there, but this is what friendships as adults are supposed to be like, right? Significant others come first. She’s pregnant and you’re going to be a dad and that’s that, right?

Right.

This will never be the same. This will never change. I’ll probably never stop loving you and even if you did, you probably stopped loving me a long time ago.

I’ll never admit it. I’ll never tell you. This is the end of whatever is left of this.

I guess I’m ready to post this now.

6/27/24

and so it begins again

[jdgo51]

APRIL 27, 2024

Persevering in Love

Jill Allen Maisch (Maryland, USA)

"Do not cast me off in the time of old age; do not forsake me when my strength is spent." - Psalm 71:9 (NRSVUE)

“'The elevator is broken again,” my 93-year-old mother stated for the fourth time during our phone conversation. I contacted her assisted-living facility and learned that the elevator was not broken. The sad truth is that, due to the onset of dementia, she sometimes forgets how to use it.

Over the past two years, I’ve learned firsthand that having a family member whose memory, perception, and reasoning are failing is extremely challenging. Several months ago, after working all day and helping my mother for a few hours in the evening, I felt completely exhausted and tearfully cried out to God, “I can’t keep doing this!” God answered by offering vivid memories of how brilliant, creative, funny, independent, and loving my mother had been. This softened my attitude about caring for her. Instead of seeing it only as an exhausting responsibility, I saw the blessing in being able to provide my mother with the same love and support she had selflessly given to me throughout my life.

As her dementia progresses, there continue to be times when caring for my mother is demanding, discouraging, and depressing. With God’s support, though, I can pause to take a deep breath, whisper a prayer of thanks for having grown up with her as my mother, and persevere in love."' When we think we cannot progress in a situation of our lives; reflect on past things that were good and uplifting. Then proceed to face the challenge before you.

TODAY'S PRAYER

"Thank you, God, for the love and support we too often take for granted. Help us to persevere in loving those who need our care." Amen.

Psalm 71:7-18

"7 I’ve become an example to many people because you are my strong refuge. 8 My mouth is filled with your praise, glorifying you all day long. 9 Don’t cast me off in old age. Don’t abandon me when my strength is used up! 10 Yes, my enemies have been talking about me; those who stalk me plot together: 11 “God has abandoned him! Pursue him! Grab him because no one will deliver him!” 12 Don’t be far from me, God! My God, hurry to help me! 13 Let my accusers be put to shame, completely finished off! Let those who seek my downfall be dressed in insults and disgrace! 14 But me? I will hope. Always. I will add to all your praise. 15 My mouth will repeat your righteous acts and your saving deeds all day long. I don’t even know how many of those there are! 16 I will dwell on your mighty acts, my Lord. LORD, I will help others remember nothing but your righteous deeds. 17 You’ve taught me since my youth, God, and I’m still proclaiming your wondrous deeds! 18 So, even in my old age with gray hair, don’t abandon me, God! Not until I tell generations about your mighty arm, tell all who are yet to come about your strength,"' I can always recall your presence and your hand in meeting challenges. I can praise you for always being there for me. Bless everyone! Joe

[realmermaid333]

How I Imagine Annie Cresta’s Hunger Games went!

It is always interesting to read people’s opinions on what they think happened during the 70th Hunger Games, whether or not they think Annie was a career, whether or not she was reaped on she volunteered, etc. 

After thinking a lot about it and considering lots of different storylines and possibilities, I have developed what I think happened based on my interpretation of Annie and clues we get in the books. I am very against the idea that Annie is some frail, innocent, damsel in distress, so I am not particularly fond of storylines where Finnick saved her by sending her tons of sponsors. Mentors can’t really do that as far as I know, sponsors are super expensive especially as the game goes on longer. She would have needed to be very charming and popular among The Capitol to get bets and money like that. And even then, most tributes don’t get tons of sponsors, look at Katniss and Peeta, they didn’t get tons of sponsors, and they were the star-crossed lovers of Panem!

I think Annie would have had very average training scores. I think she would have been a little awkward and quiet in her interview, so it isn’t like people would be rushing to bet on her and get her money for sponsors. And I don’t think Finnick and Annie were in love when she was in the games, I have seen some fics make it so Finnick went super out of his way to get her lots of sponsors, but I don’t think that could have happened at all. We have to remember that Finnick was like the “playboy” of Panem, if he liked Annie, no one would be allowed to know that. 

I think Finnick and Annie cared about each other and they were kind of friends, I think  Finnick was fond of her and really wanted her to win, I can imagine he was very sad when he thought about how she might die. Maybe one or both of them had a small crush, but I do not think they started to like each other non-platonically until months after she won the games. With Finnick saying that Annie “crept up on him”, and with how different they were as people (especially then, at 18 and 19, before they had character development together), and how they differently they each were viewed by Panem, I think they may have even disliked each other for a while. I think they annoyed each other a lot after she won. 

But, back to Annie’s games. I do not think she was a Career, I think she joined the Career Pack, but I do not think Annie trained in the academy, or that she volunteered. In my fic, I write Annie as being of lower socioeconomic status, living with her sister, Bethany Cresta, her mother, who I have named Brooke Cresta, and also has her aunt Ariel (I have not given her a last name lol). I also write her as having a father who was abusive, and her mother being someone with severe mental health issues, I think she would have had depression and paranoia (possibly paranoid schizophrenia) that got worse throughout Annie’s teen years. This family history of mental health issues, trauma, and being on the poorer side of District 4-- would have left Annie with a predisposition for developing PTSD with psychotic features, after experiencing the trauma from The Hunger Games. (I also believe Annie Cresta is autistic and I have autistic-coded her in my writing, I can make a post on this too if anyone wants :D)  

I believe that Annie was good at spear fishing and used those skills to help her win The Hunger Games. Her and her sister illegally fished sometimes to get extra food for the family, so Annie was already good with spears and was able to train before the games in spear throwing, which I think she would have caught onto pretty quickly. In my fic, I write Annie’s district partner as an 18 year old Career tribute named Merwyn. He and Annie become close and he helps her get better at spear throwing, I think Finnick helped her a little too but I think he would have been too busy with the Capitol selling him to people that he would not have been able to be super present. Her and Merwyn bond in the few weeks they have before the games, and they promise to keep each other alive for as long as they can so one of them can go home. 

I think it is important for me to add my two cents on how I think the Career system works in District 4, so I can explain how I view Merwyn. District 4 seems to be like the weakest link when it comes to Career Districts. It seems that 1 and 2 are the most likely to win and 4 is 3rd, or maybe even 4th place, with the number of victors it has. I think District 4 is a Career District because they are 1. Favored by the Capitol a bit because they supply seafood, which makes many of The Capitols luxury dishes, 2. their tributes would be good swimmers, able to use spears, and able to tie nets and get their own food source in the games easier than many other tributes, and 3. Correct me if I am wrong, but District 4 citizens are seen by The Capitol as like exotic mermaids, I remember there being many comments, from Caesar Flickerman I believe, in the Catching Fire book where he described District 4 in this way. So The Capitol may also favor them in almost like a fetishizing way. 

So, it would make sense that a District with these advantages would use them. I don’t think they volunteer for The Hunger Games because they like the Capitol or because they see The Hunger Games as an honor, but because it is better to send a prepared, strong, older kid, than a small 12 year old. It also wouldn’t make sense to me if they felt that way about the games, since District 4 was one of the more rebellious districts and one of the first to join in on the uprisings in Catching Fire. So, I like to imagine that Merwyn sees what he is doing as making a sacrifice to protect other kids in his district and hopefully win to bring more food home. I do not think he was bloodthirsty like many careers are. 

So finally, after I have given you this long ass background info--- if you have read this far I love you muah!--- Here is how I think it went down. 

I will be using Merwyn as the name for Annie’s district partner. 

Annie was 18, it was her last reaping and she did not think she was going to be reaped. To her surprise, she was picked, and no one volunteered for her. She was prepared to die, she accepted her fate but promised to try to get back to her mom, sister, and aunt. Merwyn, also 18, volunteered for a young 12 year old boy, and was then the male tribute 

 I think Mags mentored Merwyn and Finnick mentored Annie (it was probably also Mag’s last year being a mentor since she was 75 years old at the time and I imagine in the future Mags chose to stay home with Annie each year when Finnick left for his mandatory Capitol duties). 

Merywn and Annie become chatty with each other once their nervousness eases. They become close friends. Merywn was really good with spears, he helped Annie learn and practice spear throwing. Annie and him become sad as the games grow nearer since one of them will have to die, but they promise each other that one of them is going to win. 

Merwyn talks with the Careers and becomes acquaintances with them in training so Annie and Merwyn will have them as possible allies in the games, something I don’t think Annie would have liked the idea of. 

I think at the beginning of the games, it was just Merwyn and Annie. They survived the bloodbath and only got as involved as they needed to be to get their hands on a few backpacks and some spears. A week or so into the games they ran into the Career pack and decided to join them to avoid trouble since District 4 is supposed to join the careers. 

I am sure Annie would have disliked the other careers, she would have hated how they hunt down the smaller kids and how they are so violent. Annie would not like killing but she would do it in self defense if she needed to. I think there would have been arguments and altercations between the careers, particularly between Merwyn and some of the other boys. I think they would have all disliked Annie because they underestimated her and saw her being sensitive as her being weak. They’d want her dead, but of course could not attack her as long as she had Merwyn on her side. So after a while Annie and Merwyn tried to break the alliance, which led to a bloody battle between the six of them. 

Annie killed a few of the other careers with her spears, but not the one with an axe who ended up beheading Merwyn. This led to Annie feeling extremely guilty, wishing she would have thrown her spear at the right person. Then maybe Merwyn would not have died as awfully as he did. This would make sense with how much Merwyn’s death seems to haunt Annie, not only did she watch her friend die in such a horrid way, she felt like it was something she could have prevented if she would have killed the “correct” person. 

Annie escaped the last Career tribute, Merwyn’s attacker, and managed to run off by herself where she spent the last few days of the games. I think she would have been in shock, she would have almost died of dehydration because she was so stuck in a trance she was not able to move to get water or do much of anything.

I like to imagine that she got a sponsor from “Finnick, Mags, and District 4″ that was a piece of the seaweed bread from home, thanking her for her loyalty to her district partner, I think District 4 would really value that. I believe this would be the thing that brought her out of her trance and gave her hope, the sound of the silver parachute as it descended from the sky. 

Annie survived not just because she was a strong swimmer. I don’t like that people make it seem like her surviving was simply because she got super lucky for some reason, like that isn’t how almost everyone wins the games, luck. I guess I can’t blame them cause the books made it sound like that too (darn you Suzanne!). She was not a completely helpless wimp who only won because of the flood, I think that is highly unlikely. She fought a bit! She killed like most tributes are forced to do at some point! 

Annie promised her family she’d try to make it home, and she had a promise to a dead boy. A promise that she’d win if he didn’t, and she was not about to let Merwyn down. The boy who was beheaded, the boy she watched die, the boy who’s death she felt partially responsible for. Annie had the will to live. 

So, she was in survival mode, she was running on adrenaline and the fish she was able to catch with her only spear she had left. She hid from other tributes, she was absolutely terrified, but she tried her best. And when the dam burst and flooded the arena, she was the strongest swimmer, the other 4 tributes left died in the flood, and she survived The Hunger Games. 

[wallflowerimagines]

Angst idea? Karl finds out reader stopped taking antidepressants and was about to off themself?

Hey anon, I am willing to write this, but if you live in the US the national suicide hotline is : 800- 273- 8255

Be safe. You matter. You always matter.

Tw: Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, Medications, Depression are all discussed under the read more. Unhealthy coping mechanisms from Heisenberg. 18+.

Karl Heisenberg x Suicidal! Reader

Sometimes you feel like no matter how hard you try, nothing works.

You're doing everything right-- taking your medication, talking to a therapist, hell you're even being social, but... it's the same. Everything is the same.

It doesn't get better.

So you just... stop taking your meds. They're not working anyway, so why take something that just makes you feel even more different and weak?

And it's not even like you get worse afterwards, which just reaffirms your negative thought process-- you are broken. Unfixable. The medicine did nothing to help, and now...

What now?

What are you supposed to do, when you are fundamentally broken? Bad to the core?

...you get your affairs in order.

Your main concern is Karl. You do love him, and you want him to be happy, no matter what happens to you and your body. If he somehow managed to find you bloodied and broken, it will hurt him, and that's the last thing you want to do.

You decide it will be an "accident". You complain about having trouble sleeping, and get some pills to help. Karl accepts this, and you get something for your "problem" without him becoming suspicious.

You keep up the ruse for the next couple of weeks, taking one pill a night to help with the "trouble" you're having. And then, the stars align: Karl has to head out to pick up some supplies.

You almost cry. You hug him tightly, pulling him in for one last kiss. He might not know it, but you want his last memory of you to be full of love. Nothing that you are about to do is because of him, and you want him to know that.

Karl seems... suspicious at your behavior. He tells a joke or two, suggesting that you might be trying to get him out of the house for something, but you do your best to assure him that there's nothing wrong.

You're just tired. So, so tired.

And then he leaves, and it's time.

It takes a while for you to gather the courage. You consider writing a note, but that doesn't fit the narrative of an "accident". No matter how much you want to, you can't. You don't want him to suspect anything.

So, after a while, you get settled in bed, open the cap on the medicine bottle, and shake out as many pills as you can swallow.

And then, just before you shove it all in your mouth, Karl walks into the bedroom.

You both freeze. There's a half second where you can see him absorbing the sight in front of him. His expression sort of... Goes blank.

Then, he lifts a hand, and thin sheets of metal peel off the bedpost and clench around your wrists, then pin you to the wall. The pills tumble out of your palm.

Karl is shit with emotions. You know this. But it still gives you this genuine shock when he starts screaming at you.

Heisenberg is PISSED. It's mostly to hide how terrified he is, but he can't stop himself from screaming at you.

Why would you do this? How dare you do this? You're his partner! His other half! His best friend! What the fuck were you thinking??

What did he do wrong?

It's also one of the only times you see him cry. He doesn't take off his sunglasses like he normally does around you, but there are angry tears streaming down from his eyes as he screams his throat raw.

He doesn't let you leave your room at all until he can secure you some help. He doesn't talk to you either. No matter how hard you beg, scream, cry, nothing you could possibly say can convince him to let you out of the cuffs.

He can't trust you not to hurt yourself, so he doesn't leave your side if he can help it. When he does have to leave, your hands are pinned up to the wall once again.

The man hand feeds you, takes care of all your physical needs, but nothing you can do will convince him to let you go until he gets the appointment with your therapist and you BOTH go to the appointment.

He even re-ups your previous perception and forces it down your throat until then. Karl doesn't care if it "doesn't work for you", so what? Tough shit. You're taking it until you get prescribed something better.

Before this, Karl would occasionally sleep in his workshop, but now he keeps you in a tight hold against him at night. It's like cuddling with a vice grip. You never have a moment alone.

In fact, He will have panic attacks if you're out of his sight for too long. He adores you. The idea of anything happening to you, especially if it's self inflicted, causes him such a deep feeling of anxiety that he short circuits and shuts down.

Basically, Heisenberg turns into a control freak about you and your habits. You are the most important person in his life, and until he is absolutely certain this isn't going to happen again, you will not be left alone.

It's not the healthiest coping mechanism, but you can't convince him to stop. Until he gets confirmation from SEVERAL different sources, that's not going to change.

You two can recover from this, but it will be a long, hard road. Let him stress about your safety, and let yourself get help. That's the only way things will get better.

[smells-like-mettaton]

Tali’s Alphys-Centric Fic Rec List

I’ve been meaning to make this for a while!! All fics are oneshots unless marked as a series or with a chapter count.  Thanks to everyone who recced several of these to me on my 12am begging-for-alphys-fics post dfdksdl. These aren’t in any particular order. The “notes” section is my commentary about each fic. No fics are based on full AUs (ex. underswap, horrortale, etc). The only endgame Alphys ship included is Alphyne, though most of the fics listed are gen. Hope you can find something you enjoy here!

Extra Credit by FriedCatfish

Rating: G // Word count: 1,206 Summary: Undyne loses track of time watching anime. Set before the events of the game. Notes: Cute Alphyne oneshot! Short and sweet, very nice characterization

world comes pouring through by feralpheonix

Rating: G // Word count: 1,655 Summary: Alphys reunites with some old friends on the way home from taking care of business. Notes: 2nd person Alphys pov but it surprisingly works? A small moment with Alphys, Bratty, and Catty, which I literally NEVER see content for so it was really refreshing!! Takes place at/near the end of the pacifist route.

white lies to the dead by MiniNephthys

Rating: T // Word Count: 580 Summary: Alphys walks through Waterfall, talking to someone who's not there. Notes: Queen Alphys ending; Alphys “talks” to Undyne after she’s been killed. Hits me right in all the emotions ;;

Found Soul by LibraLibrary

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,331 Summary: Self-worth is a slippery, fleeting little devil, and the bastard flower that killed you isn't helping. Takes place during the final fight of the True Pacifist run, following Alphys from one purgatory to the next. Notes: Very angsty, definitely make sure you’re ready to handle Alphys’s suicidal thoughts, but a very good read! I love seeing the Lost Soul battle from her POV.

And I Feel Fine by Masu_Trout

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,685 Summary: The fallen human is human is fast approaching The Core, and Mettaton is ready to finally take the stage. Now, if only Alphys would stop worrying so much. Notes: Alphys & Mettaton friendship in the no mercy route, but manages to be surprisingly not depressing. Mettaton POV but definitely still deserves to be here. This fic does a great job of characterizing them both and it’s always great to see Alphys working in her element.

Experimentation by pickledragon

Rating: G // Word Count: 1,531 Summary: Alphys is, above all, a scientist. She may watch anime with religious fervor and make horrible Undernet shitposts in her free time, but she is good at her job. She knows what they say about her, behind her back. But when she stands there, time open before her, she resolves to collect data. Each experiment, intentional or not, brings new opportunities to change certain variables and observe others. Alphys is a scientist, after all. Notes: THIS FIC. it’s technically part of a series but it stands on its own (it’s the only one i’ve read by this author). EXCELLENT alphys characterization and writing style. Some Sans & Alphys friendship too which is always stellar. If you didn’t gather from the summary, it’s an alphys starts to remember resets fic.

Memory by Ash_yeet

Rating: T // Word Count: 19,962 // Chapters: 5/20 Summary: It's been two years since monsterkind have joined the humans on the surface, and Alphys is happier than she's ever been. But things can't stay great forever. She starts having nightmares, lapses in memory, flashbacks to things that have never happened. She hopes it will pass... sans is doing his best to adjust to life. When Alphys reaches out to him about her nightmares, he doesn't expect much. He quickly changes his tune. Someone is trying to come back. And they aren't what they used to be.sans and Alphys are trying to move on. But there's one thing they forgot: No matter how hard you try, you can't run from your past. Notes: I’ve only read chapter one so far, but it’s been really good! Looks like it’s going to involve Gaster in some way. Says it’s on short hiatus but was updated in April so doesn’t look abandoned.

Hot and Cold Blooded (Alphyne series) by perniciousLizard

Rating: varies by fic, usually G but a few T and one E // Word count: 36,516 // Works: 18/18 Summary: This series is a place to put all my Alphys/Undyne stories that aren't part of another series. Notes: this series has something for everyone; you can pick and choose which works to read. Most are feel-good fluff and humor, some hurt/comfort too. Some connect to the author’s Sansby series (which i also can’t recommend enough)

When Life Hands You Enantiomers by Kaesa

Rating: T // Word Count: 2,739 Summary: Alphys has a half-finished tile maze puzzle, reams of useless data, and a bunch of piranhas that can't tell the difference between lemon and orange scent. Sans has donuts. Notes: ONE OF MY VERY FAVORITES. Fun puns, science, alphys & sans friendship, piranhas, the opportunity to actually understand organic chemistry references,, it’s so good and fun

Friendshipping by AyuOhseki

Rating: G // Word Count: 4,564 Summary: Sans finds Alphys's secret Sans/Grillby RPF. This won't get weird or awkward or anything, we're sure. Notes: Hilarious Alphys narration, great characterization, it’s just so silly and warms my heart. I love terrible fanfic writer Alphys

social links by simplycarryon

Rating: G // Word Count: 2,525 Summary: Friendship's pretty neat, or so your video games and anime dictate. But you are not an anime protagonist, and you're not sure you know what friendship is any more. Notes: more solid sans & alphys friendship :D

See You Another Time by decamarks

Rating: T // Word Count: 18,500 // Chapters: 1/14 Summary: “Have you ever thought of a world where everything is exactly the same... Except you don’t exist? Everything functions perfectly without you.” Alphys spent a lot of time thinking about what it’d be like to start over. It wasn’t fair for someone like her to escape consequences. She knew that, yet the thought never left her mind—the thought that maybe, just maybe, she could get another chance; that she could abandon her life, her failures—everything—and start anew. But that would never happen. Sometimes, Alphys wondered. Would the world be better off without her? When unexplainable anomalies appear and begin to warp the world around her, Alphys discovers something she was never meant to know: the identity of the former Royal Scientist, and how he met his demise. Doctor W.D. Gaster vanished without a trace; he was erased from reality after an experiment ended in disgrace. Forgotten by the world, shattered across time and space—it’s like he never existed in the first place.And Alphys can’t imagine a better fate. Notes: This is a monster of a first chapter but definitely worth the read!! So much good stuff happening already. I’m a total wuss but I still love the cosmic/existential horror bits going on so far. Great Sans & alphys friendship and Undyne & alphys friendship so far.  All the amalgamates also feel incredibly well written. Can’t wait to see more of this one

(And here are a few of my own Alphys-centric fics as well)

Seventh Time’s the Charm by Taliax

Rating: G // Word Count: 1,519 // Chapters: 1/7 Summary: Six bad "dates" Alphys has been on, plus one that is actually pretty good. Notes: Alphys is my favorite and I love giving her a bad time. First chapter is a “date” she has with Sans. Next chapter which I have in progress is going to be Papyrus. (Alphyne is still endgame of course.) Set mostly before the events tof the game. Get ready for lots of second-hand embarrassment sdlfkjds

Support Character by Taliax

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,814 Summary: If Sans is determined to fight the human, Alphys is going to make sure he's prepared. Notes: Sans & Alphys no mercy route friendship, based on the headcanon that Alphys was the one to give Sans the powers/magic he uses to fight the human.

it's your best life (if it's the life that you're living right now) by Taliax

Rating: T // Word Count: 4,046 Summary: Through messages saved to Sans's phone, Queen Alphys gets a glimpse at lives that might have been.  With so many possibilities... how did this timeline go so wrong? Notes: Sans & Alphys friendship, Queen Alphys ending, mostly angst/hurt/comfort. I’m really proud of this one and it uses my main headcanon for how Sans knows about resets.

The Trans-Underground Alphys-Carrying, Match-Making Road Trip by Taliax

Rating: G // Word Count: 5,713 Summary: From her secret security camera, Alphys gets too invested in Sans's relationship with the voice behind the door.  This wouldn't be a problem if Mettaton didn't decide to take her ship into his own hands. Trying to catch up with a battery-powered robot is hard work, but telling the truth is even harder. Notes: This is a really silly fic with some hurt/comfort sprinkled in. Has some Soriel and Papyton in the background. Has some Alphys & Papyrus friendship as well which is always underrated in my opinion.

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Dear Evan Hansen

You may have seen some ~online discourse~ about the film Dear Evan Hansen, an adaptation of the 2016 Broadway musical, and you might have wondered what all the hubbub is about. I mean, it’s a feel good story about a senior in high school, Evan Hansen (Ben Platt), who has some pretty severe anxiety and depression. While trying to fulfill an assignment from his therapist to write a letter to himself, his letter gets picked up by another student, Connor (Colton Ryan) - and later that day, Connor kills himself. Connor’s grieving parents and sister Zoe (Amy Adams, Danny Pino, and Kaitlyn Dever) are desperate to learn more from the boy they think was Connor’s best friend - after all, Connor’s suicide note was a letter addressed to “Dear Evan Hansen.” And, as you can imagine, Evan tells them about the unfortunate mistake and sits with them in their grief as they struggle to pick up the pieces of their lives. 

Just kidding! He lies to them, repeatedly, elaborately, expansively for months, constructing an entire false friendship with Connor that never happened, and ingratiating himself into the wealthy nuclear family he never had, in large part because he wants to get into Zoe’s pants! THIS IS THE PROTAGONIST OF THE STORY. Oh, and it’s a musical so there is a lot of singing and crying and singing WHILE crying and sometimes crying and not singing at all. But the #inspiration, you guys. 

Things I liked:

Pretty much everything but the story and Ben Platt’s performance. The supporting cast is stacked, and all of them do a great job at elevating material scraped directly out of a diaper worn by someone who just chewed their way through a copy of the DSM-5. 

A couple of the songs are damn catchy - “Waving Through a Window” and “You Will Be Found” are standouts for a reason - and here’s the thing, Platt sings them well. But as you’ll discover, there’s a lot more to a movie musical than just singing your part. 

Stephen Chbosky, the man behind every deep thought I and a lot of people in my generation had in 2006 after he wrote The Perks of Being a Wallflower, is a pretty good director. I particularly enjoyed the fanvid-type cuts in “Waving Through a Window” in conjunction with the lyrics, and his use of interstitial shots to flashbacks (and sometimes flashforwards!) is a neat little bit of shorthand that I thought was used sparingly enough to be effective. 

Amy Fucking Adams. She’s holding on so hard, so desperately to the idea of who her son could have been, rather than the reality of who he was, and she is full of such deep pain that is masked by an almost endless supply of patience with Evan and relentless positivity. All this made me want was Enchanted 2 even worse than I already did. 

Super into everything Zoe wears - the costuming department did a great job, and now all I want to do is live in mom jeans and baggy sweaters.

Did I Cry? I teared up a couple of times because I’m not a completely heartless bastard and when Amy Adams offered Evan Connor’s college money, my heart broke for the lie Evan had thrust upon her, and Julianne Moore’s song got me good, because she’s just a single mom to Evan who is doing her goddamn best. 

Things I hated more than the time I dropped a frozen gallon container of fruit cocktail on my pinkie toe in my parents’ garage and it turned black and I thought it was gonna fall off:

Ben Platt is 28 years old. He originated the role of Evan Hansen on Broadway, so in many respects it makes sense that he plays the role in the movie, except for the one kinda sorta important thing where he looks like a wizened old crone standing amongst a sea of children doing his best twitching, cringing Hunchback of Notre Dame impression. If you want someone to convincingly play 20 years their junior, hire Paul Rudd. Otherwise, please don’t ask me to believe that this supposed 18-year-old has crow’s feet. 

And that twitching nervous energy is a huge part of the black hole at the center of this film - he’s playing to the cheap seats and walking through the halls of his high school like a wet chihuahua. It’s an excruciating acting choice to watch - he doesn’t just have anxiety, he is on the verge of a nervous breakdown seemingly every second of every day. Like honestly, where is only-mentioned-never-seen Dr. Sherman, because this young man’s meds are NOT WORKING DR. SHERMAN. 

There’s such a lack of self-awareness on behalf of the writing, directing, and performance by Platt. There’s one song, “Sincerely, Me,” that offers the only glimpse of commentary about what Evan is doing, by pointing out the malicious ridiculousness of him writing a series of fake emails as proof of his and Connor’s friendship. 

Also what high schoolers email this much?? I know this was written in probably 2014 or so, but has a bitch never heard of a text? Even a DM? This whole plot is constructed around the premise that high schoolers are just constantly, constantly emailing each other. 

Everything - and I mean EV-ER-Y-THING - about Evan’s relationship with Zoe is so creepy and disturbing that with a soundtrack change, this could easily be a horror movie. He attempts to get her to like him by describing to her all the things her brother noticed about her - oh wait, I’m sorry, all the things HE noticed about her while he was skulking in the shadows following her around for years, watching every move she made, and it ends with him singing repeatedly “I LOVE YOU” because following a girl around and never having a conversation with her or knowing her at all is love, right? This was clearly written by the same people who chose “Every Breath You Take” as their wedding song because Sting is hot and they never actually listened to the damn words. 

And it gets about 10 billion times worse when Zoe goes to Evan’s house alone, takes him up to his room, and sings “I don’t need reasons to want you” and that was the moment I was that person I hate in a movie theater and I pulled out my phone to Google who wrote the music and lyrics to the musical (we were in the back row of the theater no one was behind me THIS WAS AN OUTRAGE EMERGENCY) and of motherfucking course it was written by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, 2 men who heard about meeting an actual human woman from a friend one time but otherwise are unfamiliar with the concept. 

Lastly, enormous serial killer vibes from Evan sending unlabeled flash drives anonymously through the mail with no note in an attempt to right his wrongs. That’s not catharsis, that’s how the next installment in the Saw franchise starts, with Evan in a Billy the clown doll mask showing up on the screen and asking if you want to play a fucking game. 

Also, I know it’s not possible for the narrative to justify this in a way that could be satisfying based on Evan’s actions, but what is with this thing where single working-class mom Julianne Moore is turning down rich people’s money for Evan to go to college? Like, obviously we can’t have that happen in the movie but in real life, fuck your pride! Take those rich people’s money!

I also know how movies work but nothing annoys me more than a giant group of high schoolers all getting beeps and boops to indicate text notifications all at the same time because I don’t know a single person under the age of 55 who keeps their ringer on. That shit is on vibrate AT MOST, and I feel like that’s a millennial thing. 

The emotional climax of the film is obviously Evan’s WAY TOO LATE confession, but the idea that it’s prompted by Connor’s family suddenly getting a lot of internet hate is, frankly, laughable. If Sandy Hook taught me one thing, it is that no tragedy is immune from trolls who live only to cause other people devastating emotional pain on the internet. That shit starts day 1. Apparently no one involved in this production has ever been on Twitter?

Also it feels like there should have been a dog somewhere in this movie and there was no dog, so points off for that too. 

Perhaps Dear Evan Hansen isn’t nearly as deep as it aspires to be. Perhaps it’s a morality play, a simplistic message of “Don’t lie, kids, lying is bad!” Major studio movies wrap themselves up with a nice bow at the end so everyone can feel good about themselves and leave with a happy ending, but the moronic cruelty on display here makes that feat feel impossible. We’re left with Evan in an orchard, reading Connor’s favorite books and staring into the big blue sky with all the self-actualization he’s earned now as a lil treat. And if Evan Hansen looked like an actual 18-year-old, it would be a lot easier to extend more empathy to him and his not-fully-developed prefrontal cortex, but it’s a little harder with this fully-grown, weathered man who was old enough to remember seeing Liar Liar in theaters. 

Dear Evan Hansen, 

Get some actual help and a haircut and maybe you can grow up enough to have an actual healthy interaction with any other living person, ever.

Sincerely, 

Me

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

[anbu-legacy]

In canon Kakashi is too unstable and morally sound for anbu. He cannot live with what is being asked of him in anbu even though he completes his missions with extreme diligence. When he is kicked out it is for his own good. legacy Kakashi has absolutely 0 problems killing even innocent civilian children and babies. I can think of few things worse than that and yet he does it almost blithely and sleeps like a rock after. I'm curious to know if you went with this diverging take as a logical consequence of the things Kakashi would be okay doing had he been doing them for Minato and not hiruzen? Or was it something else which made you deviate from his canon characterisation in this regard? (Hope i'm not overstepping by asking I'm really fascinated with the legacy universe and love the world you've built so I'm curious about the process of it all)

The simplest answer to this is that the section of canon you're talking about came out after Fallen Leaves and ANBU Legacy began.

The less simple answer is... oi, canon.

So, in canon, Kakashi's journey is thus:

Rin is kidnapped by Kirigakure at the end of the Third War, who implants the Three-Tails into her (how??) as part of a Cunning Plan to have it unleashed on Konoha when she inevitably loses control. Kakashi 'rescues' her. Rin begs Kakashi to kill her, because that is clearly the only solution to this issue, it's not like there are MULTIPLE SEAL-MASTERS at home who could unimplant the Three Tails, death is the only option. Kakashi refuses. Convenient Kiri-nin attack. Rin commits suicide-via-Raikiri by jumping in front of Kakashi. Kakashi gains the Mangekyo and we fridge yet another female character, hooray.

Kakashi becomes depressed. (In the anime, people start calling him Friend-Killer Kakashi. Wow, Konoha.)

Minato decides the fix for this is to toss Kakashi into ANBU. Because what 14-year-old wouldn't be cured of survivor's guilt by committing more murder? It's the perfect plan!

The plan does not work. Kakashi does splendidly in ANBU, becoming a captain and taking command of Team Ro, but -- and I'm quoting from Naruto wiki here -- 'his successes were owed to his cold behavior and his ruthlessness in combat, signs that he was still upset by Rin's death'.

(A little aside here: Kakashi is effectively becoming god's perfect killing machine, the blade of Konoha, the tiny angel of death; everything you want in, you know, your elite special forces, and I'm still trying to figure out what Minato's actual goal was here. Did he tell Kakashi that the point of ANBU was to make Kakashi get over Obito and Rin, or did he just say something like 'Konoha needs your services', and has been moving the secret goal posts ever since? Because it's very hard for someone to participate in their active recovery if they don't actually know they're in therapy.)

Anyway. ANBU isn't working to make Kakashi get over his death wish, so Minato decides, hey, why don't you look after my pregnant wife instead? Except that he assigns it as a mission, so Kakashi treats it like a mission, which means he stalks Kushina from the shadows like a feral cat for several months.

Which brings us to the Nine-Tails. So, Minato dies. Kushina dies (failed your mission AGAIN, Kakashi!). The Third apparently imprisons most of Kakashi's generation in a bubble of protection to stop them from helping, for which there isn't enough "what???" in the world, so we're gonna skip right on past that.

Next is a whole series of events where Danzou tries to corrupt Kakashi, Tenzou is introduced, we find out about Root, Orochimaru does his various war crime experiments and escapes, Root is destroyed (or is it??), Tenzou joins ANBU, we meet Itachi, Itachi massacres the Uchiha, and so on. This all takes place over several years. After the Uchiha massacre, the Third feels like "individuals with kind hearts" don't belong in ANBU, so he pulls Kakashi out, and instead charges him with teaching teenagers how to commit murder.

And that's canon.

So, Legacy. Here are the key differences:

Rin doesn't die

Minato doesn't die

Kakashi's mother doesn't die

The Third does die

Kakashi doesn't join ANBU until he's eighteen

The Uchiha massacre hasn't occurred

Instead of getting knocked from pillar to post and punted into ANBU, Kakashi spends the ages of 14 - 18 on (mostly solo) Jounin missions, building up his skillset. He has support from Minato and Rin, an entirely new, anchoring, and happy relationship with Naruto, and more time to grow into himself. His ties to Konoha are much, much stronger. In Legacy, Danzou would have no chance of tempting Kakashi (and knows it).

When Kakashi joins ANBU, it's a choice. He goes into it knowing exactly what's going to be asked of him, and if he wasn't sure before, Minato removes all doubt:

“The Special Assassination and Tactical Squad is neither Konoha’s oldest division nor its noblest,” Minato said, with a conversational air, and Kakashi realized this wasn’t a prepared speech. This was just Minato laying out the facts like he always did, grounding the extraordinary in regular context. “Even inside the village, ANBU are feared more than they’re respected. Citizens of our own village still call them baby-killers. Some ANBU have earned that title, under my command. You may.” He paused. “I have given those orders personally. Every order the ANBU receive comes through me. Sometimes the command is to protect the village, or to conduct a high-risk mission into enemy territory, or to assassinate an exceptionally strong ninja. Sometimes it’s to sustain the village’s lifeblood—to accept a mission so foul I can’t offer it to the regular forces, to work for a client whose motives and methods are reprehensible but whose coin will feed and protect our children. You’ve accepted that first kind of mission, and excelled. Can you accept the second?”

“Yes,” said Kakashi, without hesitation.

(From Take the Mask)

The oath Kakashi swore was this:

I am Hatake Kakashi, ANBU. I have no face but this face.

I have no heart, but the heart of Konohagakure.

I have no will, but the will of my Hokage.

Which is a little worryingly vague, when you think about it.

Kakashi knows he will be asked to kill. He knows he may be asked to commit much worse actions for Konoha. As much as he can, he's made his peace with that. There are orders he would struggle with, but ultimately his moral compass points to home.

He's a shinobi first. Personhood comes second.

-- DK

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

So I looked through a detransition blog just out of curiosity, since it was one you reblogged, but now I’m super... freaked out? I have a top surgery consultation in April but now I have this weird fear that I’m faking it or that I’ll regret it afterwards. I’ve identified as somewhere along non-binary and trans (he/they!) for over a year, and I’ve known I’m not a girl for even longer, but now I’m just so afraid that maybe I don’t know myself at all. Do you have any advice on what this is?

Lee says:

Discussing your feelings with a therapist can sometimes help you untangle the anxiety from everything else. It’s reasonable to have some apprehension about a major surgery that can have a big impact on your life because it is a big change- and like any other surgery, it also has medical risk and can result in complications. 

And reading about other people’s feelings about their surgeries can be helpful! I do recommend reading things from people who were happy with the outcome and reading things from people who weren't to get a better perspective on the range of experiences that can exist. Only reading the negative or the positive doesn’t provide a balanced view!

But even if you read other people’s stories, and talk to them about why they feel the way they do about their choices and bodies, nobody else can tell you what you should do for yourself. Even a therapist can’t know for sure if you will regret surgery (or anything else that you choose to do) because nobody can see into the future, see into your heart, and see into mind simultaneously to and determine for certain what it is that you need. 

As soon as I came out as non-binary when I was 15, I started saving money for top surgery. I was someone who ran towards top surgery at full tilt and I didn’t give myself any space for doubt about whether it was the right choice for me because I felt it was the only choice I had-- forwards or nothing. I was pretty severely depressed at the time and had a brief hospitalization the month before I turned 18, and I was sort of pinning all my hopes on top surgery reducing my dysphoria and booting out my depression. So I scheduled my consultation as soon as I turned 18 and was legally an adult and could do so without parental permission. I immediately scheduled my surgery for the soonest available date, and had inverted-T incision top surgery about 3 months after I turned 18.

Now I’m 21 years old, and I’m 3 years and 5 months post-op from my top surgery. 

In retrospect, top surgery was 110% the right choice for me. If I could do it all over again, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Top surgery really did reduce my dysphoria by a significant amount, and that made it easier for me to cope with my depression and other mental health issues. I was proudly parading around the house shirtless as soon as I was able to stop using post-op compression, before my incisions had even healed into scars.

I don’t have any dysphoria about my chest anymore, especially now that I’ve gotten tattoos to cover my scars. I finally feel like I look like how I always knew I was meant to look.

I don’t post pictures of my chest anymore because I have distinguishing tattoos but I’ve posted a few before/after pictures when I was 3 years post-op and I think things have only gotten better now.

I was lucky to not have any complications; I don’t have any nerve pain, and hypertrophic or keloid scarring, and I didn’t need any revisions. But there are some things that are non-ideal compared to if I had just been born with a typical cis-guy flat chest. My nips are a little wonky in color and shape, and I plan on getting medical tattoos at some point to even the edges out. I also have slightly muted sensation in my chest now, so everything is like slightly number than it was before.

When I was pre-op, I did enjoy having nipple sensation that was pleasurable; even though I had inverted t-incision top surgery which preserved the nipple stalk, I still only have tactile, temperature, and pain sensations in my chest. If you put an ice cube on my nipple and my eyes were closed, I’d know it was cold. If you poked me while I was looking away, I’d still feel it. And if you squeezed me, it would hurt. But somehow it doesn’t feel good anymore like it used to. 

I don’t know how much of that loss in erotic sensation is a mental thing and how much is a physical change caused by scar tissue build up around the nerve. But regardless, it is a real loss. 

For me, that loss is well worth it. While I might have been physically capable of experiencing erotic nipple/chest sensation before, I rarely actually did have that experience because it made me too dysphoric and I didn’t like to take my shirt off during sex. Now I feel more fully present and comfortable in my own body and it makes me more engaged so I can focus on my partner and on the other feelings I’m having and how I look isn’t something that is detracting from the experience. 

In general, top surgery has made my life better in a million ways. I love running shirtless with my college cross country team, I like going swimming at the beach with no shirt, and I like the way I look now when I see myself in a mirror after stepping out of the shower. 

When I get dressed in the morning, my day starts off on a neutral note because it’s just me putting on clothes. Sometimes I pause to think about how I can just put on a shirt and feel good about it and move on. Before, I used to be upset every morning because the first thing I’d be reminded of when I woke up was that my chest was there and I didn’t want it to be. I’m Autistic, and binding was Not comfortable for me sensory-wise, so not having to bind was also nice.

I would choose to get top surgery again, but that doesn’t mean that it’s the right choice for each and every person. I am sure it was the right choice for me, and I have no regrets at all, I never want to have breasts again. But someone else might think that not having erotic nipple sensation is a dealbreaker, or they might not be comfortable with scars if they tend to heal with more visible raised scars that are harder to cover with a tattoo like I did mine.

So I can tell you that top surgery has made my life better and I’m glad I got it and I don’t think that there would have been any way for me to be as happy as I am now if I had not gotten it. Top surgery is life saving and life-changing for some people, and I am one of those people. I might be more inclined to tell people that if you think you need surgery you should get it because my surgery went so well and because I’m still identifying as genderqueer, transmasculine, and non-binary, just like I was when I was 15, so my identity is pretty static there.

Some other post-op people may tell you that they regret their surgery, that they wish they hadn’t done it, and they would make a different decision if they could go back in time. They might want to help warn other people to not make the same mistake that they did.  Detransitioned folks often (but not always) have a different perspective than folks who persisted in being transgender and that’s okay- it isn’t a better perspective or a worse one, just a different one. But both trans and reidentified people can feel this way, even though it’s usually more common for de-trans folks to regret surgical procedures that it is for trans folks.

I semi-rushed into surgery for both emotional and logistical reasons but I knew it was right for me. But that isn’t the best choice for everyone and if you aren’t 100% sure that it is what you want and need then there’s nothing wrong with having the consultation with the surgeon to learn more and then thinking things over before you schedule a surgery date (or don’t), you don’t need to immediately schedule a surgery date after the consult. Think of it as an interview and as an information gathering session.

Neither of us can tell you what you should do because neither of us are “right” or “wrong” about top surgery. It’s just a different experience and a different perspective. We all have biases based on our own way of seeing things, and that can inform our advice.

If you know what the risks are, and you’ve given it careful thought and can provide an informed consent, then whether you should get surgery is your decision. I won’t tell you “go get it!” or “don’t go get it!” and I don’t think that any blogger should be telling anons what medical procedures to get or not get. 

Worrying that you’re faking it, that you don’t know who you are, and worrying about regret is something that can be pretty scary and frustrating, but you don’t need to figure it out on your own, and it’s okay to take a little longer to come to a decision and talk it over with a therapist if you think it’s necessary to help you cope with that anxiety.

But yeah, I believe that ultimately you have to trust your gut feelings on what you know to be right for you.

Top surgery 101 links

Finding a therapist

Side note: While we do our best to avoid reblogs from obvious TERFs/truscum/transphobes/racists/sexists/ableists/etc to avoid exposing people to triggering content by boosting the blog’s visibility, and we do appreciate getting heads up asks about reblogs from a problematic OP, if we reblog a post from someone we do not necessarily endorse all of the content in every post they’ve made, and we don’t necessarily agree with all of the blogger’s opinions either. We reblog a specific post if we think seeing that post might be helpful for some of our followers.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

selfie | jjk | 2

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Is this a rom-com, slice-of-life drama with unsolicited social commentary about gender stereotypes, idol music, and the meaningless meaning of the word, “adult”? Yes. But also, Jeon Jungkook shouldn’t be in love with his hyung’s little sister and he is. Shit.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of depression, anxiety, loneliness; fluff, but also frustrating because flirt already, sheesh; loons-to-lovers; non-idol!AU - oppa’s bestfriend!Jungkook x SHINee fangirl!reader

happy lunar new year!! year of the ox - jk’s lucky year <3

–

previous episode.

2. in which the two loons getting somewhere, only for more misunderstandings to happen.

Is this too much?

You stared at the picture and the message. Jeon Jungkook once again. Sending a picture of himself at the gym. It was a while since the last one, so his hair was slightly longer now. Was he growing it out? Oh well, none of your business. You sent your usual reply.

?

You sighed and went back to your journal, only to have your phone aggressively sing ‘3 PM’ from the Animal Crossing New Leaf OST. Directly asking for a video call this time. You thinned your mouth into a line and closed your journal, sliding it out of frame before accepting the call.

Jungkook’s big brown eye filled up the screen, directly on the camera.

“Why don’t you respond like a normal person?”

“Why don’t you start conversations off like a normal person?” you shot back, placing a hand on your cheek and leaning against it. There was stationery scattered all around you, but your journal was behind the charging stand.

Jungkook withdrew his eyeball, frowning. You could see his entire face now, his long black hair tied up into a silly sprout on top of his head. He was still wearing the dark gray sweatshirt from the photo, but he seemed to be in his apartment. All you could see was the wall.

“What about the pic though? Is it too much?”

“Too much what?” you responded irritably.

He waved his hand, shaking the phone with his movement. “You know… Too, ‘Hey I work out and am attractive, pay attention to me’ much?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even looking at the camera. Or wearing a sleeveless shirt.”

He blinked at you. “Should I?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, those are things not to do. Picture is fine,” you added, shifting some pens away so you could rest your head on your forearms.

“Oh.”

He looked uneasy for a second before the camera jostled around as he scurried to a different part of the room. You puffed your cheeks and closed your eyes, not wanting to get motion sick.

“I’ve been playing Persona 5!” Jungkook said cheerfully, making you open your eyes to see him directing the camera at his television where the Persona music was merrily playing. “Just finished Sakura Futaba’s Palace.” He switched the camera back as you smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

“Nice.”

Jungkook seemed to spy your deflated form on your desk.

“What’s wrong?”

You breathed out. “Nothing.”

He frowned. “Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

You shrugged. “Just thinking.” Your eyes flickered to him, smirking a little. “You wouldn’t know about that, I suspect.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. Other than that, he didn’t react to your remark.

“Thinking about what?” he asked, leaning back into his gray couch. His long hair flared out, sprout blooming against the cushions.

Your eyes shifted to the pens all over your desk. To your tablet, where you had been practicing digital drawing for a little while now. Just little drawings of cute animals, no people yet. To your journal, where you had been writing your diary entry.

“Lonely.”

You said the word without thinking. It was the title of your diary entry. You hadn’t meant to say it, but it was the only thing on your mind right now. Your eyes flickered back to Jungkook, who was watching you carefully. You sighed, feeling the need to explain yourself.

“All my friends are busy with school and their jobs. Oppa is always at work or with his girlfriend. Parents are always working.”

You could feel the distance between you and your high school friends. They were chasing your dreams and you were chasing nothing at all. You weren’t distant from your brother, but you were respectful of how much time he wanted to spend with his girlfriend. She might become his future wife someday, after all. Would you have a future husband one day? You wondered what he would be like.

You shook your head and shrugged. “But I did it to myself by taking a gap year, so it can’t be helped.”

“It’s okay to feel lonely.”

Slowly, your gaze shifted back to Jungkook. He was getting up from the couch, holding the phone up as he walked to what looked like the kitchen.

“I mean, you can’t help what you feel, right?” he said as he set the phone in a cupboard and went to the fridge. “Feeling lonely isn’t some kind of crime, so you don’t need to lock it away or anything.”

Jungkook picked up a take-out container and opened it, stiffing the contents. He seemed to be debating if it was edible or not. How long had that been there? You wanted to ask but then again, you didn’t want to know. Jungkook shrugged and dumped the mysterious contents into a bowl.

“I’ll talk to you whenever you want.”

You scoffed. “Why would you do that?”

Jungkook placed the bowl in the microwave and set the timer. The machine hummed as he turned around.

“To prevent you from feeling lonely.”

A butterfly danced in your chest.

You chuckled. “Why would I want to feel annoyed instead of lonely?”

Jungkook shrugged, taking out some chopsticks. “At least you have someone to be annoyed at instead of being alone?”

Two butterflies danced in your chest.

You huffed and rested your cheek on your forearms.

“Have you been talking to your Confidants?”

“What?”

“In Persona 5.”

“Who?”

You slapped your forehead. “Listen up, you monkey…”

“I’m an ox in the zodiac.”

“I mean your monkey gameplay…”

You began to explain the importance of Confidants in Persona to Jungkook.

-

That’s how you ended up in video calls with Jeon Jungkook several times a week.

He would usually start the call by sending a selfie, to which you would respond with your usual question mark. He was going to university for graphic design and worked at an electronics store part time. You, on the hand, were doing nothing. Well, not nothing, because you were clumsily learning digital art, but unless you were showering, you were always by your phone. Checking idol social media, especially SHINee. Sometimes your brother and his girlfriend asked you to accompany them to dinner, but you always declined, because being the third wheel was weird.

Also, watching your brother in love was weird.

Bleh.

“They always make out in front of me,” you were telling Jungkook as he asked why you weren’t at dinner earlier with your brother and his friends. Your brother had taken his girlfriend, of course. “It’s weird.”

Jungkook winced. “Yeah, I get what you mean. But I was there.”

“So what?”

Jungkook raised his hands. He was in his bed, rolling around in gray sheets. “Maybe you care?”

“I’d like to be spared watching oppa’s PDA, thanks.”

As usual, you were at your desk. This time your tablet was in front of you. You pushed the pen around, indecisively drawing lines and undoing your last action, twisting your mouth to one side, not really looking at Jungkook. He wasn’t doing anything of note, anyway.

“You don’t like PDA?”

You shrugged. “It’s whatever. I don’t really care.”

“What are you drawing?”

“Nothing good,” you sighed, putting down the tablet pen. The little cat character looked back at you, its expression the same bored and dispassionate face you usually had. You hadn’t really decided on a color for it yet. Maybe gray. That’s how you usually felt, anyway. You knew the collar color was going to be aqua though. A nod to your SHINee obsession.

“Show me.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

You looked up to Jungkook’s smile. There was a radiance about it. You felt the two butterflies dancing in your ribcage once again, fluttering, fluttering. His two front teeth where just ever so slightly too large for his mouth. It was endearing, like seeing a bunny. You looked back down at the little cat you created. Maybe you would make a bunny for Jungkook.

Pfft.

Why would you do that?

You laughed, confusing Jungkook as you placed your hand over your mouth, eyes squinting as you chortled to yourself, trying to imagine Jungkook as a silly little bunny. Probably one that worked out too much and drank banana milk every day. Probably loved to take selfies too. A cool bunny who wrote sunglasses sometimes and was probably altruistic and interesting.

Not like you.

Your laughter died down, eyes on the cat. You picked a cat to represent you because it was lazy and didn’t do much. Spent all day sleeping and staring outside, but never actually trying. Curious about things, but never committing.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asked, lifting the camera and holding it above him. You saw his long black hair flare out around his head. He was casually handsome, the kind of attractive that didn’t need much to be that way.

That’s weird. Why would you think something like that?

“Your face,” you replied, missing the usual bite you usually had behind your words. “You need a trim.”

He raised his eyebrow, pursing his lips. “You don’t like long hair?”

You pointed at the phone even though he probably couldn’t tell what you were pointing at. “The ends of your hair are splitting. It’s not going to grow well at this rate.”

“Are you a secret barber or something?”

“I’m a human being who cuts her own hair,” you replied impassively, sitting back in your chair.

Jungkook looked surprised. “Really? Since when?”

“Since the last time oppa attempted to cut my hair in high school.” You cringed at the memory.

Jungkook looked apologetic and ready to burst out laughing at the same time. “He tried his best.”

“He did not,” you retorted, remembering the botched bangs and blunt shoulder length cut. It was horrible. You went to the salon afterward and had it trimmed into a short pixie cut, because you would rather be bald than look like an overgrown coconut.

“The pixie cut was cool though.”

“Eh.” You shrugged. “Too hard to cut it by myself. Need some length to hide my mistakes.”

“Your hair always looks nice though. A little messy.”

You touched the top of your head self-consciously. Maybe you should start brushing it before accepting his calls. You didn’t really brush it that often because, well, who was going to see you? You basically only brushed it when you noticed a tangle.

Jungkook was smiling at you. His dark brown eyes seemed sparkly because of the overhead lights in his bedroom. The butterflies in your ribcage circled each other, looping round and round. You made a disgruntled face, reaching up read the current time at the top of your phone.

“Don’t you have class early tomorrow? Go to sleep.”

And then you pressed the end call button.

For some reason, relief and disappointment washed over you. Relief because there was a palpitating anxiousness you felt when you looked too directly into Jungkook’s eyes. Disappointment because maybe you shouldn’t have hung up so abruptly. That was a little rude.

You noticed you had a text. From Jeon Jungkook.

Good night.

-

Jungkook placed his phone beside him after he sent the text. He thought about sending a selfie too, but maybe that was too much. She had just seen him seconds before, anyway.

Why had she hung up like that?

He smiled as he remembered her laugh. He liked her laugh a lot. She hid it behind her hands and her eyes always squinted when she did so, nearly making them disappear. It looked a little bit like a cat when it was purring in satisfaction. Jungkook wondered what made her laugh like that. It must have been a thought, because he could see her face changing as she observed him. When she stopped laughing, her face was different too, becoming introspective.

She looked pretty today too.

Her hair a little messy, combed through with her fingers. That’s how it looked best, he thought. She had a natural prettiness, the kind that needed no help to be that way. Every action she did seemed cute, from the way she held her pen, to the way she twisted her mouth to one side when she was working on something, to the way she touched the top of her head, lips parting in thought.

If she wanted to be a model, she probably could.

At least, Jungkook wanted to take her picture.

He frowned a little. He’d been consistently sending her selfies before calling her and she always responded with a question mark. Maybe she wasn’t used to taking selfies? Or maybe, and what was more likely, she probably didn’t even care about them.

Jungkook exhaled, flopping to his side. Should he give up? But then he remembered her face right before she looked at the time. It was like she was staring at the screen, at his face. And for a split second, he swore he saw her upper lip upturn a bit, shyness in her gaze, a bit of pink flushing her cheeks. Was it just the lightning or something? His mind playing tricks on him?

“Bleh.”

Jungkook made a weird noise and plopped his face into his pillow.

-

Jungkook stopped calling you.

You wondered why. You had been kind of rude to him last time. Maybe he was mad at you? Maybe he wanted an apology? But you weren’t really sure what to apologize for. And it was weird to call without a purpose, right? And besides.

You didn’t really need to apologize to Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t even really your friend. He was your older brother’s friend.

You chewed on your lip, staring at the last picture he sent you. He wasn’t your friend. He was�� well, what was he trying to do? Why was he talking to you? Maybe he was bored. Maybe he was nosy. You did say you followed his art Instagram, so maybe he was enthralled with the idea of knowing he had a fan or something?

But you weren’t a fan, per se.

Well, a little bit. He was really talented.

But not that much!

Because Jeon Jungkook was kind of annoying. He still hadn’t returned Persona 5 to your brother. Not that your older brother noticed, at all. He never finished Persona 5 and it was mostly your game now, with how many hours you had sunk into it. Jungkook hadn’t even known about Confidants until you told him. Hmph. Didn’t he look up game guides? Well, he should. Confidants were really important to the game. They helped you with useful abilities during boss fights by developing relationships with the other characters.

You stared at the last selfie Jungkook had sent you.

You kind of wished he was looking at the camera.

Maybe you needed a Confidant. You certainly didn’t really know how to develop relationships with anyone, except maybe your older brother. But that was because he was your brother and familial responsibility. Well. Not true. Your brother was really nice to you.

That’s why you folded his underwear for him, even to this day.

Sigh.

Jungkook did like SHINee though.

At least that was one thing in common, right?

-

next episode: 3. in which only a major event can bring these two loons back together – SHINee is back!

--

masterpost

[saintqueer]

Hi, saw that you are in therapy. How do you approach the subject of 1D in therapy? I'm embarrassed to bring up how much I'm invested in them to my therapist tbh and also worried she's gonna a tell me to drop them cause it's not healthy.

Hey friend! I honestly was pumped when I woke up to this ask yesterday because it’s a really good question. One that I think a lot of people worry about. And is probably pretty prevalent for a lot of us in fandom spaces as a lot of us are mentally ill and/or neurodivergent (and yeah I don’t think that’s a coincidence). I just recently got back into therapy after a few years away. I went consistently from when I was 18 to 24. And I just got back in at 27 because, surprise, life is still hard. But I can tell you that I was not expecting to be going back into therapy with a full-blown 1D hyper-fixation. Yet here I am! 

I’ve always been very susceptible to fandom and, what I like to call, the art of obsessing over things. And I’ve mostly felt comfortable talking freely about those things with friends/family and therapists. But it has become more difficult as the outstanding circumstances of being unemployed, in a pandemic, being unable to get my ADHD meds, and being severely depressed have caused my ‘obsessive tendencies’ to become a lot more intense, focused, sensitive, and longer-lasting which is why I’m using the term hyper-fixation currently to separate it from the general fandom experience. 

It’s come to feel a lot less like a fun extracurricular and more like a coping mechanism that I can’t picture functioning without. Maybe this is similar for you, anon, as you label your investment as “unhealthy.” But I hope you can step back from judging yourself for a moment and acknowledge that this might be a coping mechanism for you. We can sometimes be all too quick to judge coping strategies as healthy or unhealthy when we are simply just trying to do what we can to get by. I am aware that my current hyper-fixation might not be the quickest or most obvious way of healing myself. However, I know that I am indirectly processing my trauma through it which is, for right now, far easier for me than confronting it directly. 

So, yes, in therapy I’ve brought up my 1D obsession, touched briefly on Larry, and spoken at length about how much fan fiction I’ve been reading. My therapist hasn’t really dug further and we just end up moving on to the next thing. He always ends up being more curious as to what’s underneath it and far less concerned about me “being too invested” in something. Any therapist worth their salt would NEVER in a million years tell you to drop something you are passionate about. You are allowed to love things, you are allowed to be a fan, you are allowed to be crazy-obsessed. I highly doubt that she will tell you any differently but if she does, perhaps try finding someone new. Both of my parents are psychologists as well (fuck my life) so I am well-versed in the theory behind psychotherapy and it would never be advisable to tell a client to drop something that brought their life joy even if there were unhealthy aspects to it. You aren’t doing heroine, ya know?

Anyways, if you’d like to then tell your therapist about 1D! What you love about them, how they make you feel, why you feel so invested in them and their music and their story. Explain what resonates or upsets you. That will likely reveal a lot of things about you that might enable her to help you further. For me, the goal of better understanding my hyper-fixation is not to love the thing less by any means. But to make your individual happiness less dependent on said thing. Right now I’m so sad all the time that simply a singular tweet from Louis can give me a huge boost of happiness I would not have had otherwise. My goal is not to rid myself of my hyper-fixation but rather change the nature of it so that I am happy more often even on days when nothing exciting happens in the fandom. A tweet from Louis will still bring me joy but I’d prefer it not to be a glass of water in the middle of a fucking desert. 

So, anon, I hope that helps in some way! Feel free to come back anytime. Also, big props on being in therapy! It’s truly one of the best moves you can ever make.