#but this is a much calmer post than my usual rants so I guess it's fine

[unma]

Uh, mentions of suicide (not attempted, but considered) and suicidal ideation under the cut I guess. And lots of talk about my depression. And a bit of oversharing. Did I say this blog wasn't for venting? Well, I'm unpacking these things as I write them so please be kind with me, okay?

Still thinking about my memory and how it's gone from me being proud of remembering the most specific stuff to barely being able to remember anything past a certain point save for really specific mostly intensely painful (usually mental) periods of my life.

I don't think it's memory issues (or at least the kind where I'm simply incapable of actually recalling things or putting moments into long term memory). I just think that there isn't much for me to remember in my day to day life outside of the internet.

I spend most of my time moping around, looking forward to the day where I'll be free of everything that has plagued me. The optimism younger me had about leaving this life behind and becoming a new me is gone, replaced with a me that has accepted the reality that it would be a long struggle to get to that day that I'm happy. I already had to pull myself out of the pit that was wanting to actively end it all, and now I wallow in despair wondering if it'll happen anyway.

it was only weeks ago (or perhaps months? Time has begun to blur for me since forever ago) that I found out I had friends who were glad I wasn't dead. IRL friends, in specific, as I wasn't too open about my struggles online, for obvious reasons. I mean, I was also gone from this blog for a year or 2 due to related matters, so obviously no one online would know about any of this since I wasn't here.

Back on track, I had a classmate of mine call to see if I was still okay and doing fine. I wouldn't call him that close of a friend—he's the type of person who's an asshole on purpose but friendly enough, so you can tell when he's taking a piss and when he's being genuine, but he doesn't pull it off nearly as well as a much closer friend of mine—but he was one of the few I'd let know that I wanted to die. Even though I'd made it clear ages ago that I wouldn't ever pick up a knife, he was still glad to know I was okay. And upon mentioning that to others who knew about my woes, they all responded that they too were glad that I was doing okay. It felt nice to be cared for.

So it's a shame that the only way I can talk to any of these people is online.

There isn't much for me to look forward to offline. My family's awful, as you can probably tell from today's posts, I hate most of the people I know in church (not to mention that being agnostic and having a horrid experience with the church growing up makes that place a living hell to be in) and there's nowhere for me to go outside. Not to mention it's way too hot. No really, I tried to go for a walk outside today and didn't even make it an intersection before the sun made me turn back. And I'm the one who used to wear hoodies in the blaring sun before I moved. It's way too hot here in the summer.

Every time I try to improve something about myself, be it my posture or not spending all my time in my room, I'm reminded ever so swiftly of why I'm like this now. At some point I resolved to sit in the living room often, but every evening my dad would come home and yell about something that had gone wrong, and because I was the only one nearby I'd be the only one subject to that yelling. And then I remember the reason I never left my room was because child me realized that greeting my mom when she came home from work was never worth it because she would 100% send us to do chores. And she wondered why no one ever greeted her when she came home anymore.

There's a lot of things the internet has done to me that would make me wish I got on here when I was older. But it pales in comparison to how much good it's done for my life. How much it's shaped me into a much better.

And the fact that I'm still alive, I guess.

I think often about how my dad once told me he knew me better than I knew myself. Back then I thought "Do you know your son doesn't want to live anymore?" I still wonder if he'll ever find out. If he'll ever realize that the pressure he and my mom placed on me to get better academically, even as I was one of the best performing students and simultaneously already struggling to keep up with the stress from maintaining those scores. I wonder if they'll ever understand that the hate I feel for them is not childish rage at not getting my way—not a rage that will fade as I grow older and wiser in life—but a deep hatred that will never fade until I'm free of them forever.

I wonder if they'll ever realize that they were horrible parents. Even now they're constantly blindsided by the effects of their own bad parenting. Effects that I, the oldest child, continued to point out to them when they first showed up. Things that I very clearly told them needed to be corrected.

Perhaps the fact that I had to point out that they were failing at being proper parents to my younger sister constantly as I grew up is just another sign of my shitty upbringing. One in which I was forced to learn to be mature at a young age. To be the smart one. Above breaking the rules, above being playful and immature. Perhaps it's no wonder in the end that I simply stopped caring, when fun was something I continually had to fight for, and stress was simply the norm. Even now, as I think back on my past, most of what I remember was the time and effort I spent. How proud I was to pull an all-nighter to finish handwriting my Business Studies notes, as if my rides to school were not already spent frantically catching up on my CRS notes.

My school-assigned advisor once told me that I had to deprioritize writing to spend more time focusing on school-related work. I wonder what he'd think if he found out that writing was perhaps the main reason I decided there was still a point to life. I wonder what my mom would think when she agreed with him.

Oh well, it's not like there's a point in dwelling on that.

Point is, well, there really isn't much for me to look forward to or do, other than eat and sleep. Not to mention that most of the things I can do suck or actively make my mental health worse, which is fun.

As for the point of explaining that? Well, I think the reason I can't remember anything is because there isn't anything to remember, or at least anything good. What's the point of actually remembering things if all there is to remember is enraging conversations and anxious waits for things I dread? Perhaps the reason I don't remember much about my life is simply because I stopped having things to be happy about. Outside of the internet, anyway.

If I have any consolation, it's that I can still vividly remember a lot of my time online, where I had fun and made friends and learned to be myself. And when I put it like that, it feels pointless that I've even slightly worried that I spend too much time online, when there's no reason for me to reduce my time online.

That's all my pondering for now, I guess. Really long post, yeah, but today's event made me think about... a lot of things, I guess.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

"You told someone who you are."

The pleasant afternoon patrol had taken a turn with the sudden accusation.

Ladybug felt a chill go down her spine as the words hung in the air. The spotted heroine turned to her cat themed crime fighting partner. She could see that his usual kind eyes and care free smile were absent from his face. This was serious Chat noir.

"W-what makes you assume that?" Ladybug asked, not outright confirming or denying the allegation.

The cat walked closer, his eyes watching her expression like a detective interrogating a criminal.

"Its a lot of things Ladybug." His comment exuded assurance. It wasn't false bravado either, Ladybug could feel it in her gut, chat noir was pretty sure. "For one, the sudden shift in attitude."

"Im pretty sure my attitude has been pretty consistent." Ladybug dismissed.

"Yes, for the last few weeks it has. But considering your rant at the movie theater, and right after that fight with the group of akumatized girls, your mood took a sudden shift back. It was almost as if it never happened."

"I just found a new way of coping with things, it has done me well. Besides, I am not 100%, I am still stressed. I just have a healthier way of dealing with it now."

The cat nodded, he could tell she wasn't lying to him.

"That does check out." Chat noir admits. "But I wouldn't be accusing if I didn't have more then that."

Ladybug held in her sigh, seems she wasn't done dancing in this minefield of questions.

"Next would be your messages."

"My messages?"

"Your communicator goes off much more frequently as of late. And you take the time to answer them."

"Our real phones are connected to our miraculous. Cant have people be suspicious. Isn't it best to answer when possible?"

Ladybug was seeing chat noir accept her reasoning. Perhaps he will relax about the whole thing. Until she noticed a shift in demeanor.

"Yep, makes total sense. So tell me, why would you want to tell me all about the akuma we fought yesterday?"

That wasn't good. She looked at her communicator and sure enough she saw the text she had thought she had sent to Alya yesterday.

'You're not going to believe the fight we had to day. The akuma was intense. I will give you deets later."

Ladybug realized she had message chat noir around the same time that day, a mix up of messages wasn't impossible. She mentally cursed.

"I.... meant to send that to Su Han.... he was going to be helping me figure things out and..."

"You and I both know he doesn't know how to work a phone, let alone text." Chat noir stated.

Ladybug realized she was caught.

"Chaton Im sorry I didn't tell you sooner..."

"Don't you 'Chatton' me! You aren't sorry you didn't tell me, you are sorry I found out." Chat noir shot down her apology.

"How was I suppose to tell you?" Ladybug shot back. "Hey Chat noir, I just wanted to let you know that I broke our rule about keeping our identities a secret because I was going through an emotional break down from all of the stress!"

"Yes! That would've been better than finding out that my supposed partner doesn't trust me at all!"

"We've been over this, We can't know each others identities. It is way too dangerous for either of us to know right now."

"THATS NOT WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT!"

Ladybug paused.

"I tried to reach out to you, I tried to help you. I saw you were hurting and wanted to be there for you. But... but I guess you never thought of me as someone you could depend on did you."

"Chat noir... its not that I couldn't depend on you... its that you couldn't get the whole picture. I couldn't tell you, you wouldn't have been able to understand."

"But Rena Rouge could?"

The question pierced her heart like a bullet. Chat noir waited for her response, but it was clear that words were not going to come out. So he spoke.

"The ladyblogger? Thats the person you decide to confide in. The one that posts facts and information on us on a daily basis?!"

Ladybug tried to say something against but Chat noir continued. But his tone calmer.

"I guess it makes sense though."

"It does?"

"She was the first person you picked to assist us. Though I only found that out recently. She would need to be someone you trusted to tell them your secret. So maybe you do know her well enough to know she won't rat out your secret."

"She is more trustworthy then you know." Ladybug defended.

"Of course, you're the guardian now. You would trust the people you've picked, or you would never pick them." Chat noir continued.

"Yes. That is true. I trust the people I picked."

Chat noir nodded.

"Okay then. So that answers the next question"

"What question?"

"Why you didn't trust me to help you."

"Chat noir that is not equivalent to..."

"You didn't pick me to be chat noir. That was master fu. Is that the reason you still want me as Chat noir? An obligation to our memory wiped masted? The one that wanted to keep me in the dark longer? Are you keeping up his traditions? Cause if you are then you are doing a great job! Its just like before. No, its worse then before." Chat noir ranted.

"That is not true and you know it! I couldn't be ladybug without you. You are important to me. Yes, I didn't tell you I told someone my identity. But that doesn't mean I don't trust you! Your are my partner."

Chat noir turned around walking away from her. He took a deep breath, exhaling all of the anger, hurt and pain in one action.

"Chat noir!" Ladybug called out.

"Im not going to quit being chat noir if thats what your worried about." He said without looking at her. "If you want me to give up the miraculous, I will accept without question."

Ladybug noticed how formal the cat hero had become. It unnerved her. His expression and tone were serious, as if he was actively suppressing his emotions. It felt so... wrong.

"I don't want you to quit." Ladybug answered. Her voice softer, filled with concern and worry over what was going through the cat hero's head.

"Then I will stay as Chat noir."

Chat noir began waling to the edge of the rooftop.

"Wait... Chat noir. I am sorry... About everything. I should have told you what I did sooner... I should have..."

"I think thats enough of a patrol for the day. Let me know if you need anything else, Master Ladybug." Chat noir replied, ignoring her apology.

Chat noir jumped from the roof, leaving Ladybug on the rooftop, to grieve the death of their partnership.

[huggybug]

i’m sending this to some of my favorite blogs, so i’m sorry if you this more than once, or if it makes this feel any less special. i promise it’s the most sincere. i just want you all to know.

how do you deal with the hate? or do you deal with it? the way you and other writers overcome the nervous feeling of posting something, knowing that there’s people out there who just love attacking people for no reason, really makes me admire and envy you guys. i think a lot of people—almost everyone to be exact—really overlook what writers do for their fans, not only that but also the things that are said to them. what’s said to writers can be very harmful, especially in terms of their mental health, self image, the list goes on. they seem to forget that actual REAL people run these blogs. it must be really hard dealing with what you guys go through. i’m so sorry that you all have that in your lives. i just wanted to say you do what i could never do. you are very strong. i’m sorry if that’s weird. i just wanted to let you know ❤️❤️

oh my gosh this is so sweet🥲 sorry but i might rant on this a little so consider this your warning.

i honestly don’t get any hate about my writing (shocking tbh) and i just want to say how grateful i am that everyone who follows me (or who comes across my work) respects it enough to not send hate i guess??

but when i do get hate, it’s usually on things i’ve said, typically when answering asks. if you follow me you probably know what i’m talking about but there’s been a couple times where people just flood my inbox with hurtful things and it’s forced me to reevaluate my presence on here and what i come on here to do. i’ve realized that sharing my opinions or speaking on things i really don’t have the right to speak on is unnecessary and only causes more drama. i’m here to write and talk about hockey players… i’m not here to discuss the ins and outs of scandals in the nhl. some blogs do talk about that stuff and obviously i can’t stop them but i think it’s a lot calmer when you stay quiet on those kinds of things, you know?

anyways sorry about the rant but thank you for sending this, it really is so nice and you’re totally right when you say writers don’t get enough credit for everything they do. not even me but like everyone tries to put out as much content as they can and not everyone’s speed is going to be the same which is totally okay! the pressure that ‘fans’ or followers put on is sometimes a lot so here’s to all the writers, y’all are doing amazing don’t worry about anyone saying otherwise!!

[tarnishedxknight]

{out of dalmasca} I realize that I have never explained why I prefer Basch with long hair and why I’ve always imagined him keeping longer hair despite his drastic and messy hack in the canon game. I do think it looks better aesthetically speaking, but that’s not the main reason why. A bit of a rant about hair below, haha. Enjoy. XD

We’re all familiar (those of us in the fandom, of course) with his canon game hair, atrociously cut, perma-stiff, barely moving with the wind except somehow often oddly indoors???, and quite honestly apparently hairsprayed? Does hairspray even exist in Ivalice? Because if not, his hair isn’t just a crime against nature and fashion, but also in defiance of the laws of physics. Yes, we know it, we love hate it, it has been the subject of many a joke and meme, I present to you... TheBasch™:

*sigh* Sweetheart, what even do you call that? Aesthetically, it’s an absolute abomination. In my head, Basch has semi-normal, average medieval fantasy man hair, one of many reasons I use CH in T:TDW as his live action FC:

So this is around the length I imagine him with and that’s his usual hairstyle, maybe minus the braids, but yeah. Half-ponytail, tied in the back with a leather strip, and yes, messy with strands hanging down. All dungeon imprisonment and sweaty adventuring aside, assuming he has access to proper bathing facilities, Basch keeps himself and his hair very clean. He’s just... a clean guy, when he can help it. So his hair is clean and all that, but... messily styled. Because there is no style. He puts it back in a half-ponytail without the use of a mirror, and just... that’s how it is. He doesn’t take it down again until he retires to bed, and he doesn’t do too much about strands that don’t make it into the ponytail. I’ll come back to that later.

Although this is 1047% better aesthetically speaking, the reason I imagine him with this hair is actually to do with his mental health. First, I will clarify that I imagine him with this length of hair and general style post-Nalbina-dungeon. Before that, I hate it, but I accept his canon hair. But after he’s busted out of the dungeon, the game chooses to have him almost immediately hack off the two years’ worth of hair growth (which honestly to me looked like way more than would grow in two years) to reset him back to his canon terrible hair. I... kindof reject that, and I say he keeps the long hair.

The reason for this is kindof nebulous in that I don’t have a clearly definable reason why, but I do have an explanation. It’s a coping mechanism for him. A security blanket, if you will. A way of protecting himself mentally. How does one do that with hair, you ask? Well first of all, it isn’t deliberate. He doesn’t even realize that that’s why he’s keeping his hair long. It’s just that he feels calmer, more grounded, and strangely enough, safer with the feeling of having long hair around him. Like... around his shoulders and framing his face. That’s why he doesn’t overly pay attention to the loose strands that don’t make it into the ponytail. Leaving it completely down would be a problem during combat, because it would constantly be getting in his face, so the half-ponytail fixes that, but the loose strands against and around his face still give him that feeling of mental security. They don’t obstruct his vision enough to be a problem, but they do the trick well enough with regard to his mental health.

Again, I don’t have a reason for him wanting to do this, and if he was asked, he would probably not be able to give much of a response. He doesn’t know. It’s a subconscious feeling of comfort that he gets from the feeling of his hair around him. It makes him feel more closed off, I guess? Not in a bad way, but just... the world seems a bit smaller and more under control with that feeling of something draping around his shoulders. I know it makes no sense at all, but this is actually something that people in real life sometimes experience when they’ve had a lot of trauma. It’s almost in the same vein as wearing oversized, baggy clothing or maybe something with a hood. That’s another type of just... draping yourself in something to kindof put this buffer between yourself and the world. Of course neither oversized clothing nor long hair really protects you from anything, but like I said, it’s an issue of mental security, a coping mechanism.

Since the majority of writing I do for Basch takes place after his stint at Nalbina, he’s got the longer hair. It’s a trauma response from what he experienced in the dungeon. Regardless of what he tries to tell people or deny to himself, that imprisonment changed him and left him with both physical and mental scars. He’s managed to repress a lot of it and he hides the effects of it from most people, but his long hair is a side-effect of that trauma and he doesn’t even realize it. I headcanon that he’s got a little bit of a fuller beard post-Nalbina too. It’s his armor against the world, in a mental health sense.

And there you have it, folks. More than you ever wanted to know about Basch’s hair. XD

[doubletriplepowerbomb]

Caveman part 3

Part 2

Okay hi. I know it’s been forever but I’ve written up to part 5 so I’ll be posting part 4, 5 and 6 during this week!! 

Word count: +4600

Warnings: none, swears... the usual

Tags: @jenn0755 @zappyzoodle @disturbthepearls @lost-in-the-stories @lithesxx @racingandreigns @rocketgirl2410 @vebner37 @therianfurry46 @littlelunaticfringe @finnbalorlover21 @winged-time-criminal @mrsnegan25 @xfirespritex @wefunloveruniverse @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @scuzmunkie @buckyaboveall

Four days went by since the kiss. Baron hasn’t spoken to me since that night and Roman has only talked about tutoring. I shouldn’t be as upset about this as I am but I couldn't help it. I finally kissed the guy of my dreams and now he acts like nothing happened. I can’t even tell my best friend about it. 

Baron came into study hall late that day. After weeks of him avoiding me, he scanned the room for an open seat and plopped down right next to me. “You look upset.” He asked quietly. He kept his head down and his eyes didn't meet mine at all. “Are you okay?” Although his words were caring, they seemed to bite me. I’m sure he really didn't care to ask me these questions but he did anyway. 

“Not really, no.” I responded, keeping my words as soft as Baron’s were. 

“Is it my fault?” He asked. 

Here’s when I finally realized what was happening. Baron asked because he thought it was him that was making me upset. I couldn’t tell him the truth; that it was actually Roman that was making me feel this way. He’d never speak to me again. “Why’d you stop talking to me?” Was the only thing I thought to say. I really didn’t want to lose my best friend right now. 

“Lindsey, you know how much I hate Roman,” I cut him off there. I didn't mean to, but I just did. Why the hell am I always defending Roman? I really need to stop that. 

“Why should that matter? I’m your best friend and just because you don't like the guy I’m tutoring you feel the need to avoid me?” I snap. I really didn't mean to snap, but I couldn't help it. 

“You aren’t just tutoring him, Lindsey. You know that it isn’t just tutoring. You’ve loved him since the 6th grade. You’re getting involved with him, there are rumors about you all around the school, you spend everyday with him in the library- I’m not the only one who notices that. You kissed him.” He kissed me. I wanted to correct him, but I knew better than to do that. “Don’t gimme that look, whatever, he kissed you. It doesn't matter. He’s bad news.”

“You know that’s all you ever say. He’s bad. How? What does he do?” I asked. I was starting to get annoyed and Baron was too. Our voices were way louder than they were at the beginning of this talk. 

“Ms. Walsh, Mr. Corbin… please. If you two are going to speak so loud and disturb everyone else, please go outside.” 

“Sorry, Mrs. Packer.” Baron apologized and walked out of the classroom, leaving in the center of staring students. 

Fuck. “Sorry.” I apologized quickly after and ran out behind Baron. I kept my head down and hoped I wouldn’t make eye contact with any of them. 

I followed Baron out to the courtyard. I expected him to stay inside but I guess he knew he was about to scream. The second he heard the door behind us close, he whipped around and began his rant. “He’s using you, Lindsey. He’s getting good grades and now he has a stupid little doll to play with too!” He spat. 

Out of everything Baron has said to me, that was the worst. “Stupid little doll? You didn't just call me that, did you?” I really was expecting Baron to retract his previous statement. But not only did he stick with it, he ran with it. 

“Yeah. A stupid little doll. Don’t look at me like you’re the victim, I know damn well why you’re actually upset. Don’t forget, Lindsey, I’ve been your friend for years and I know you!” His voice was now way above his normal volume, I was right about the courtyard thing. 

“Oh yeah, and why am I upset?” I surpassed Baron in volume. He makes me so mad sometimes. 

“You’re upset because Roman kissed you, he shoved his tongue down your throat and you got nothing out of it. I saw you in the car with your little dumbstruck look. You can’t act like you don’t care. Roman made you feel all special and now he’s doing what he does best, ripping hearts out! He made you think that he cares about you and now he’s proving that he doesn’t!” 

I didn’t have a response, I just let him scream at me. Maybe Baron was right. Roman doesn’t care about me. 

“And the worst part about all of this is that now I have to deal with your dumb ass. You’re all heart broken over a dumb jock, now I gotta clean it up. You’re such a stupid person and I really thought you were smarter than this! But you’re no better than those blond idiots in all those high school movies we used to watch!” I was done taking it. He was crossing the line now. 

“Then fuck off! If you feel so burdened to deal with me, then leave me alone! I didn’t ask you for your advice, I didn't tell you to fuckin’ ask how I was, and I didn’t even bring this up. I asked why you started avoiding me and you blamed it on the kid I tutor! This is your fault! Not mine, Corbin!” 

I couldn’t tell you where in my response my voice started to waver. Or where my eyes started to tear. But by the end, I was crying and I hated myself for it. Maybe this was all because I was gonna get my period. Maybe this was when I finally realized that I might lose my best friend. Or maybe I was crying because I already lost him. 

I didn’t feel like Baron was right though. Usually, after we fight, either him or I feel awful and beg for forgiveness. I didn’t have the feeling of regret in my gut, I was mad and upset that Baron didn’t see Roman how I did. And look, I know what they all say, you’re best friends know you better than you do. And if they don’t like the guy, he’s no good. But this was different. 

Baron noticed my tears but didn't let up. He kept screaming. About what exactly, I didn’t know. It just seemed that now he was yelling at me about everything that I’ve ever done that bothered him. I really didn’t think this verbal beatdown was gonna let up anytime soon, until I saw someone running towards us out of the corner of my eye. Teacher? I hope not. Security Guard? Not likely. Student? Definitely. But who? Roman? No way. Wait, that is Roman…

-

Where is she? I had finished the first half of my sandwich, something that I don’t usually do before Lindsey comes in. I knew she was here today. I checked my phone. No text. So I texted her and I figured I’d finish my first sandwich. If she didn’t come in or text back, I’d go look for her. 

She still didn’t come in after I finished the rest of my first sandwich and there was no text so I walked out into the halls to find her. I walked in the opposite direction of the cafeteria and headed toward the language hall, her 5th period study hall was there. 

From down the hall I saw a bunch of people looking into the courtyard and that’s when I saw it. I saw Baron first (the guy’s like 6 ‘5) but then I saw Lindsey standing right in front of him. They looked like they were just talking. I felt something stir in my gut as I got closer and saw what was actually happening. Baron stood towering over her and screaming his head off. Normally, if I saw something like this, I wouldn’t jump to do anything about it. But this time, I had to. 

I picked up the pace and ran towards the door, that something I felt stirring in my gut earlier turned into blind rage and jealousy. I practically broke through the door that was standing in between Lindsey and I. When I heard Baron’s volume, I got even more angry. Nobody talks to her that way. I had the urge to protect her, she was so tiny and cute and sweet and so… mine. Baron was mistreating someone that was mine. I felt rage brewing inside me from my head to my toes. I wanted to kill him. Lindsey is mine and he can’t have her. 

-

I felt Roman’s large hands grab my hips and pulled me forcefully towards his brick-wall like chest. He leaned down and asked if I was okay and I quickly whispered yes. He moved instantly, creating a barrier between me and Baron. “Fuck off, man! Haven’t you screamed at her enough?” He didn’t know I was crying yet. 

Baron’s words stopped short when he saw Roman approaching but he didn’t lose any aggressiveness. “Roman, I swear if you know what’s good for you you’ll fuck off.” Baron growled. 

In my personal opinion, the only person truly able to stand toe-to-toe with Roman, was Baron. Both in size and intimidation factor. Baron is actually a couple inches taller than Roman but because Roman plays football and lacrosse, he’s a little bigger. Roman is most likely heavier too and probably stronger. Baron is no string bean, but Roman holds most, if not all, of the current weight room lifting maxes so many people wouldn’t choose to go up against him. But Baron did and he didn’t look scared. 

“I don’t care what’s good for me. You’re screaming at a sweet girl who probably didn’t do anything to deserve it. So it’s you who better fuck off, or you’re gonna be late for class.” Roman’s words were calm, a lot calmer than his first statement. With that, Roman turned to face me. “We got studying to do, Lindsey.” Between his words with Baron and his words with me, Roman’s tone changed from a deep growl to his low bass whisper. 

I was really convinced Baron was gonna swing. And I mean, why wouldn’t you? Roman’s back was turned. It’s the perfect time to hit him. But Baron didn’t swing. He didn’t even raise his fist. He just huffed and walked back inside, adjusting his beanie before entering back into the halls. 

Roman’s hands went instantly to my cheeks and he wiped my tears away with his thumbs. “Please don’t cry, sweetheart. I don’t like seeing you cry.” Roman removed his hands from my face and pulled me into his chest. His strong arms held me firmly in place and I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. “Let’s go inside, yeah? We’re missing lunch.” 

When we arrived at our usual spot in the library, there were almost no eyes on us. Thankfully, the show really began right at the beginning of 6th period so not too many people were able to stop and watch the scene unfold. Apparently, Roman was waiting in our usual spot and after eating his first sandwich, he began to wonder what the hell was taking me so long. He also informed me that he had a sub in math class today so he didn’t have anything to work on, so he wasn’t too nervous about how much time we’d have. But nevertheless, he wanted to find me so he began his journey through the halls while he scarfed down his second sandwich. 

“I got really nervous when I saw him yelling at you. You’re really… little, you know that.” I smiled at his concern.

“Yes, Roman. I know how small I am.” At 5' 5”, I wouldn’t necessarily call myself short, but with Roman standing 8 inches above me at 6’ 3” and Baron standing a hell of a lot taller at  6’ 5”, I often get clumped into the “short” category. 

“I just wish I got out there before he made you cry. I should’ve left right when I realized you were late, instead of eating my sandwich first.” Is he being protective? Does he feel guilty for not coming to save me earlier? “Are you sure you aren’t hurt? I didn’t really get to ask you back there.” Definitely being protective. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” was really all I managed to get out but my brain was pounding. Why did he feel the need to come out? Did he save me because he cared? Does he care about me? Well anyone would come out to save a friend. He called me sweetheart. Woah, I totally missed that one. I was aching to know why he even felt the need to come find me. So I figured, we have nothing to do today so why not ask… right now? 

“Roman, not that I don’t appreciate you coming to get me��� because I really do, but why did you?” He looked momentarily confused before answering. 

“Well when I went to look for you I saw you and that gorilla in the courtyard. When I saw him standing there with you I got annoyed ‘cause he’s always causing problems. Then when I realized he was yelling at you, I knew I had to go get you.” Roman’s answer was simple but, of course, it didn’t satisfy me. 

What was I expecting? ‘I came out to save you because I love you?’ C’mon Lindsey, get real. 

I guess he noticed my facial expression. I still looked confused, I still felt confused. Roman looked confused too. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just really protective over you,” he mumbled. Protective as a friend or protective as more than that? “I just really hate when people are mean to you, I guess.” 

“You say this like it’s happened before.” I said. I couldn’t say what was in my head. Roman did just admit to being protective and I wanted to know why. 

“Well, yeah. When I got suspended.” Roman said easily. He seemed sure that I knew about that. 

“What? What do you mean when you got suspended?” 

“You didn’t hear? The kid I beat up was talking about you and I didn’t like it.” Throughout his sentence, Roman’s voice got quieter. His jaw clenched and he tensed up. It was as if he was remembering what the kid said and was getting angry all over again. 

I put my hand on his shoulder. “What did he say?” I asked while my hand moved down his arm. I smiled to myself at the small small goosebumps my hand left behind. 

“He was talking to me about how hot you were. He kept saying how hard he’d fuck you. He was talking about you like you were some kind of slut.” Roman’s voice remained a quiet growl as he told me what happened. After hearing the kid say how hard he’d fuck me for the fourth time, Roman had enough. Without warning, Roman punched the kid and they had a fist fight in the hallway. Over me. 

I didn’t know what to say, but my mind was going wild. HE GOT INTO A FIST FIGHT OVER ME. Mutual acquaintances don’t get into fist fights for each other and ‘just friends’ don’t either. I waited a second before changing the subject, I needed to cool down. My mind was all over the place and I was freaking out, I hoped not in an obvious way. I wanted to know more about it, I wanted to ask him why he cared. But I knew I couldn’t. I didn’t want him to close off again, I just got him talking. 

“Today though, when you turned your back to talk to me didn’t you know Baron was right there? What if he hit you?” I saw that Roman’s expression change slightly after I changed the topic. Was he disappointed? 

“I did that because I knew he wanted to hit me. He wasn’t gonna to hit me if I stayed facing him, so I gave him a chance. I don’t know if Baron is miraculously strong or something but one hit probably wouldn't have done much, plus I was expecting to get hit so I figured it wouldn’t kill me.” Roman explained all this so easily. He is actually quite smart and if he thought about math with the same depth as a fist fight, he probably wouldn’t need me. 

Although I changed the subject I was really having a hard time with what he had said earlier. So I continued to ask him questions and we kept our conversation casual as lunch came to an end. 

I spent the rest of the day replaying Roman’s words over and over in my head. ‘I’m just really protective over you.’ ‘The kid I beat up was talking about you and I didn’t like it.’ I was really starting to convince myself that maybe he did actually like me. Maybe he even wanted me. But each and every time my mind went wild with it’s fantasies, Baron’s voice was there in my head to bring me back. 

-

Ok. Deep breath, Roman. Figure out what you’re gonna say to her. I was beyond panicked on my way to her house today at lunch I told her too much. I admitted to her how protective I get over her. I didn’t want to. It was her eyes, I swear. Her stupid, sparkly eyes: they were staring into my soul and I couldn’t stop talking. She makes me crazy, but in a good way. She makes me crazy but I’d go crazier without her, ya know? What the hell am I saying? Nevermind, man. Think about what you’re gonna tell her. 

“Lindsey, I’m not looking for anything serious right now.” No, that's terrible. 

“You’re hot but I can’t have you attached to me.” Wow, douche. 

“I like someone else…” What are you trying to do? Rip her heart out? 

“Friends with benefits?” Nope. 

“Lindsey, I am irrationally afraid of feeling anything, therefore I cannot form any type of relationship with any person. For the fear that I will feel is much stronger than any attraction I can ever have.” Nice, dude. Real broad and… subtle, even. 

“Fuck!” Perfect. I’ll walk up to her front door, and yell fuck in her face. 

I pulled into her driveway and I still had nothing. The worst part was that I didn’t even know what I wanted to say, let alone how I was gonna word it. Did I want her? Did I not? Maybe feelings wouldn’t be too bad. No. Hell no. Like Dad said, feelings are for little girls.

I took a deep breath before getting out of my car and I tried to clear my head before getting to her front door. You got this, just tell her and don’t lie. 

She opened the door and I lost it. She looked up at my face and smiled before letting me in. Don’t look in her eyes. Her stupid, sparkly, perfect eyes. But it was too late, I looked at her face and got lost in her eyes and her smile. 

Okay, this is okay. I like her face. Just tell her when the time is right. 

-

“Oh fuck.” Oh god I hope he didn’t hear that. I opened the door and couldn’t stop myself from speaking out loud. He was wearing flannel pajama pants and a tight black tee shirt. I don’t know what it is, but I think guys always look so fucking hot in those pants. He had to have noticed I was checking him out.

But he didn’t. My eyes made their way up to his face and he looked pretty out of it. Maybe I shouldn’t bring up the kiss right away. 

His eyes met mine and I felt my face heat up. “So what do you have for me today?” I asked, keeping my voice level, as I let him in. He looked possessed as he walked past me 

-

I wish she was mine.

-

“Huh? Oh!” Roman snapped out of his little spell and put his backpack down to dig through it. “Functions and stuff… I think.” 

-

Smooth. Fucking idiot. 

-

Roman finally found his folder and sat in his usual seat at the table. I tried to calm down before sitting down next to him so we could start the problems and finish this as soon as possible. 

Oh my god he smells so good. 

We had been doing problems for about 30 minutes now and I was really fucking up a lot. Functions were so easy and I had already gotten 3 questions wrong.

This was the first time I’ve ever felt nervous while tutoring Roman. With every mistake I made, it felt like my face went up in flames. I was second guessing myself. 

Roman was making me stupid. 

RED ALERT: A boy is making you stupid. RED ALERT: you like a boy so much he’s making you dumb and nervous! 

“... Then you subtract these and you get 18.” 

“Lindsey, the answer key says 67.” Roman corrected. This was the fourth time tonight he’s corrected me and he still sounded shocked. I was shocked too. 

“Oh, yeah. You’re supposed to add the two numbers, not subtract them. Sorry, I guess I’m just a little…” madly in love with you and obsessing over the fact that you kissed me “…distracted.” 

“Fuck… I knew the kiss would make things weird.” Roman pushed his paper away and turned to face me. “Look, I know you already think I’m a douchebag and this is gonna make it worse but I can’t date anyone right now.” His eyes looked apologetic. Like he knew this was going to crush me. Or maybe it was crushing him. No, it definitely wasn’t crushing him. 

oh.

“My dad said no distractions during football season. He’d kill me, Lindsey.” Roman inched closer to me. 

I fell in love with how my name sounded coming from his lips. Fuck. Okay, Lindsay calm down. It’s gonna be okay. You knew this was gonna happen, he doesn’t want to be with you. I didn’t know what to say. I felt like an idiot. 

You’ve been quiet for too long. Say something! 

“Wait. Roman, slow down.” What are you about to say idiot?  “I don’t want a relationship either.” Yes you do, stupid. Stop. 

Roman’s eyes looked hopeful. “You don’t?” 

No, Roman. I’m in love with you. “Yeah, I’m not looking for anything serious with anyone.” 

-

She isn’t? Honestly I was hoping she’d press a little so I could give in. At least then I’d be able to tell myself I tried. 

“What if we just had a casual thing? No Label. No obligation.” My voice got quieter and I placed my hand on her thigh. I wasn’t thinking, I had no clue what I was doing. 

That’s a terrible idea dude. You, out of all people, are suggesting an open relationship. You’re the most jealous person ever. 

I needed to stop but I couldn’t. Her eyes were begging me to continue. 

-

I felt Roman’s large hand trail up my thigh. My heart rate picked up and butterflies began flying in my stomach. I hated when Roman made me feel like this, I’m completely defenseless.

Roman inched his way even closer to me. I felt hypnotized. “Like friends with benefits?” I whispered. This is gonna rip your heart out, Lindsey.

-

“Yeah.” I whispered back to her while I leaned in even more. Don’t do this to her. Don’t do this to yourself. I knew I needed to stop but I didn’t. I felt drawn to her. My brain didn’t work right when I was around her. 

-

My eyes fluttered shut and I moved in to meet his lips. I involuntarily moaned into the kiss, his lips were warm and full like they were last time. But this time, for some reason, it was better. I missed his lips. I didn’t realize how much I missed them until I was kissing him. 

Roman responded to my moan by lifting me onto his lap. I have to admit I was quite impressed and turned on by how effortlessly he lifted me.

I felt him harden underneath me and I smiled against his lips. I moved my hands from his shoulders to free his hair from the perfect bun it was tied back in. Roman bucked his hips up as I laced my fingers through his thick black hair. 

Everything about this kiss was different from the first one. This one wasn’t desperate or rushed, it was perfect. Or rather, it should’ve been perfect. The situation was far from perfect and I hated myself for allowing this. But I kissed him nonetheless. I couldn’t stop myself. 

It was safe to say that we forgot about the math. Thank god my parents were away. Roman’s hands gripped my waist and he began moving my hips. I kept my hands in his hair and started moving my hips so he didn’t have to. Roman pulled away from my lips and moved to kiss my neck. 

-

Holy shit. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Her hands felt so good in my hair. I instantly knew I would crave this every day. I just wish I told her how I felt. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so mad at myself for wanting her so bad. 

-

Roman’s phone rang at 10:07, it was his father. 

“Oh fuck.” Roman said as he pulled away. He set a distinct ringtone for his father and we had both recognized it. 

We both knew that Roman was in trouble. He looked at me with fear in his eyes and I apologized profusely. 

-

“Don’t apologize, Lindsey.” I said as a lifted her off me and gently placed her on her feet. 

It’s me who should apologize. 

-

“Hey Dad-” I could hear Roman’s father yelling at him through the phone. I couldn’t believe Roman didn’t look phased, I was terrified and he wasn’t even yelling at me. 

“Yeah, I know I’m late but there was a tree down on Fern street so I had to go around.” I raised my eyebrows at him. He thought of that quickly. 

I wonder how many times he’s needed to make up excuses because of girls. It’s pretty obvious that he’s done it before. 

“Lindsey, I gotta go. My dad’s pissed if you couldn’t tell.” He said, throwing things into his backpack. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that he grabbed my shoulders, pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, and ran out the door. 

I stood there in shock as I heard his car speed off into the night. I couldn’t believe I said okay. I couldn’t believe I told Roman I wasn’t looking for anything. I am madly in love with him. When he kissed me and I was so excited for something to come from it. I wanted to call him mine. I wanted to wear his jersey to football and lacrosse games, I wanted to go to prom with him, I wanted so many things and I just threw it all away for friends with benefits. 

-

I can’t believe she just wanted to be friends with benefits. I can’t believe I told her I didn’t want to date her. God, why did I assume that she’d push me. I had played it over and over in my head, too. I’d tell her I couldn’t date anyone during football season and she’d give me that look and I’d fold. I’d tell her the truth, how I really felt. Then I would finally have her. But I fucked it up. I agreed to an open relationship. Why didn’t I just tell her? I wish I had the balls to stand up to my dad, but every time I have a chance I just… don’t take it. 

part 4... coming later this week!

[hotforharrison]

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream ch 7

Chapter 6 <-- Series Masterlist --> Chapter 8

Pairing: Tom Holland/Reader

Summary: He’d been in your dreams almost your whole life, but was it real?

Word Count: 1,715

Warnings: Language, smut and some tears.

A/N: Today is extra bonus day! I posted a oneshot, AND updated both of my series. Celebrate my insomnia!

You found yourself back in the White Room with Tom, both of you still nude. That hadn’t stopped being strange yet. Strange, but definitely not unwelcome. He was gorgeous, and you loved just looking at him in a way you hadn’t had the chance to before.

He got on the bed and patted the spot next to him. You sat down beside him, your bare thigh touching his, and grabbed his hand to hold in yours.

“You look surprised,” he commented, interlacing his fingers with yours.

“I thought meeting you in person might have broken the White Room, like the entire purpose was to bring us together, and it would just...stop after it fulfilled that,” you told him.

“Apparently not.” He shrugged. “It will be strange to wake up next to you, though, instead of by myself.”

“I always hated waking up alone after spending the night with you here, especially after I started boarding school.” You really didn’t want to go back to the life you now unfortunately led.

“We still have two whole days, and after that, we’ll figure something out,” he promised.

“What else is there to do, other than go back there and face the fact that I left campus and skipped a couple days worth of classes without permission?”

You weren’t prepared for the meeting you were going to have with the dean and probably your parents, but you doubted you ever would be. Spending time with Tom was still worth it, would still be worth a lot worse than that.

“You could come back to London with me,” he offered.

The suggestion shocked you. Meeting in a hotel for a couple days was one thing, and really meeting in person one day had probably been inevitable as you’d both grown older, but he wanted to bring you back home with him?

“I don’t even have a passport,” you eventually said.

“I’ll wait with you while you get one. I won’t be done filming for another few weeks.” He squeezed your hand.

“I’m not saying that the thought of running away with you isn’t at all appealing, but like, how would you explain coming home with some random American girl? You don’t even have your own place yet.”

“I’ve already been looking for a place, though. I could just make it more of a priority to find one.”

“What about getting a visa to stay with you? I haven’t looked into it, but I don’t think they just hand them out to everyone who requests one.”

“Maybe you could finish school in London and get a student visa for the time being,” he suggested.

“So you’ve apparently thought about this?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I just hate how miserable you are, love. I hadn’t seen you genuinely happy before yesterday in months. It makes my heart hurt that you’re in such a bad place right now.”

You couldn’t deny that as much as you wished you could. It was 100% the truth. Seeing him had been the only thing that you’d looked forward to in a long time. Now that it was finally happening, what was next? You couldn’t answer that.

“God help me, I’m actually considering this,” you confessed, chewing your lower lip as you thought more about it.

“Good.” Tom did nothing to hide how pleased he was by that fact.

“I honestly thought you’d be fucking me in here tonight for every moment we had together, not having me start making life-changing plans.”

He rubbed his thumb over your fingers. “We have plenty of time. I think we’re both more comfortable talking here than back in the hotel room, at least for now.”

“Yeah, it is easier to talk to you here,” you agreed. “So, we’ve established that you’re a bad influence and I’m going to do something abso-fucking-lutely insane, now what?”

He chuckled. “The passport is the top priority for now. I might have already looked into it, and you can get it expedited.”

“What about my parents?” you asked.

“You already know how I feel about that. Fuck ‘em. They sent you off to that bloody hell hole of a boarding school and even took away your fucking phone because they didn’t want you to talk to me again,” he ranted, “and why? Because your cousin couldn’t use a goddamn rubber like a reasonable human being.”

“I miss the life I would’ve had back in my hometown, my friends and all the stuff I was looking forward to for senior year, but I haven’t missed them yet,” you admitted, looking down at the floor.

“I don’t blame you one bit. What they did to you was shitty.” He lifted your chin to look into your eyes. “I can promise you that you’ve always got me, though, even if the White Room disappears forever after we wake up. You won’t have to do any of this alone.”

“Thank you.” You felt tears start to slide down your cheeks. “I’m scared.”

“I know, darling. It’s alright.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and wiped away your tears with his thumb. “Let me hold you for a while.”

You lay down on the bed with Tom, his arms wrapping around you. You buried your face in his chest and allowed yourself to cry it out, embarrassed that you were quickly becoming a snotty mess against his bare skin.

“Shhh,” he soothed, rubbing your back gently. “Everything will be alright.”

You pulled yourself against him tighter. Something twitched against your leg, and you glanced up to see.

“Shit, I swear I’m not getting off on you crying. I would never. You’re just naked, and touching me, and gorgeous, and it has a mind of its own,” he said quickly.

It wasn’t even that funny, really, but you started laughing and couldn’t stop, your tears turning into tears of laughter. Every time you began to calm down, the laughter bubbled up again.

Eventually, you managed to stop, calmer for a few moments.

Then, want washed over you unexpectedly. The only thing you were sure of was that you needed to be closer to Tom in that moment, maybe even closer than you could possibly be. You weren’t sure. You wouldn’t be until you tried, and you needed to try.

You kissed him suddenly, a little desperately, his mouth slack against yours in surprise. He didn’t stop you when you straddled him, rubbing your already wet core against his erection.

He broke the kiss, panting a bit. “Love, you might want-”

You shook your head and pressed your lips against his again, licking into his mouth.

He still didn’t stop you when you positioned him against your entrance and sank down, groaning into the kiss at the painful stretch. It took a few tries to bury him inside you to the hilt. You didn’t move for a while, just kept kissing him as you adjusted to his size. It still stung when you finally moved to rock against him, a few tears dripping down your cheeks.

He broke the kiss, looking simultaneously very aroused and very concerned.

“What’s this about, darling?” he asked.

“I need this,” you told him. “Needed to be closer to you.”

“Well, I don’t think you can get any closer than this. I’m literally inside of you right now. But we can stop if you want to. You’re crying again, and I really don��t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t want to stop,” you insisted, the sting already starting to transform into a feeling of fullness as you moved more.

He remained still underneath you, letting you take what you needed. “What do you want? Do you want me to take care of you?”

“Yeah,” you said, realizing that was exactly what you wanted.

“I’ll take such good care of you,” he promised. “Do you want to stay like this, or do you want me to be on top?”

“I don’t know. You can decide,” you eventually said.

He gently rolled you over without pulling out. “Do you want me to make you cum?”

That was easier to answer. “Yes.”

His hand slid between your bodies, and he found your clit with a fingertip. He circled it slowly as he carefully thrust into you. “Does that feel good?”

“Mhmm.” You wrapped your legs around his, enjoying the additional contact that made you feel closer to him.

He rubbed your clit a little faster, and an orgasm soon washed over you like a rolling tide. It wasn’t as intense and powerful as others you’d had, but the pleasure lasted much longer. You could feel your inner walls pulsing around him as you came.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, and you felt him spill inside you as his thrusts slowed down until he stilled completely.

“Thank you,” you said, still a bit breathless.

“What are you thanking me for?” he asked.

“Taking care of me,” you responded.

“Believe me when I say it was no hardship.” He smiled down at you.

“I have a question,” you started.

“Go ahead.”

“You know how stuff goes into the White Room, like what you wear when you fall asleep,” you said.

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Does stuff go back out?” you asked.

“What do you-” Realization dawned on his face. “Oh. We’ll grab you the morning-after pill just in case.”

“I should probably go to a clinic soon and find a better long-term solution, since we can’t bring anything in the White Room with us.”

“That’s a good idea,” he agreed before changing the subject. “Do you feel better now?”

“Yeah. I’m still a little scared, but I don’t usually do crazy things so…” you trailed off.

“But I’m a bad influence,” he said playfully.

“You are,” you teased, “but like you said, I won’t be doing this alone.”

He nodded. “You won’t.”

“There’s something else I’m wondering,” you admitted.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Am I still a virgin, since we did this in the White Room, but not while we’re awake?”

“I guess it’s teeeeechnically a sex dream?” he responded.

“Good. I don’t regret this, not at all, but a tear-free do-over would be nice,” you told him.

“I’ll try not to disappoint you to the point of tears. I can’t make any promises, though,” he teased.

You chuckled.

Tag list: @moorehollandplz @thollandss @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @jackiehollanderr @adayasgeorgia @dasexydevitt13 @imagine-lovebug

[twdeadfanfic]

Sad Love Life

Summary: The reader and Daryl share their sad love stories during late night watchs, until eventually they come out to each other as bisexuals.

This story was important for me, I based it on a dream in which Daryl and I were friends and were sharing a watch, talking about our love life (though I don’t remember anything and all that I wrote here about Daryl’s past comes from my imagination), and when I told him I was bisexual, he told me he was too. That dream made me so happy. So for my, Daryl’s bi. It’s not mentioned here, but I also think Daryl is demisexual(or asexual), and I think I might be too.

I hope you all like this one-shot, it’s a bit on the long side, let me know your thoughts.

* Link to my masterlist with my other works can be found on the description of this blog. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but tumblr doesn’t show posts with links in the tags.*

-----------

You shifted restlessly in your sleeping bag. You couldn’t fall asleep. It was difficult for you to sleep even before the world went to hell, now that the dead walked around it was almost impossible for you to fall asleep at night, paranoid of walkers sneaking on you and afraid of the nightmares you might have. It usually took you hours of turning and tossing until you fell asleep out of exhaustion.

Giving up you sat up and looked around. Almost everyone was asleep or trying too, besides Daryl, who was sat down watching over the group, and Rick, who was pacing around the perimeter. Around four months had passed since you lost the Greene’s farm but it still hurt to think about what that place could have been for all of you. Now you were forced to camp in the middle of nowhere more often than not. Like that night.

The more you tried to fall asleep, the less sleepy you felt, and you were starting to feel a headache forming. Groaning in frustration, you gave up and silently walked towards Daryl, sitting down next to him. If you couldn’t sleep, at least you’d keep him company while he kept watch, though he didn’t seem to mind the solitude and silence.

“Can’t sleep.” You grumbled.

“Don’t trust Rick and I to make sure your ass ain’t eaten?” You knew he was joking and you nudged his foot with yours. You didn’t trust anyone more to keep you safe than those two.

It hadn’t been easy, get to be friends with Daryl, and at first you hadn’t really wanted to have him around, you were always annoyed at him back at the quarry. Things were different now, and you were glad you both had become good friends. By now you were sure he must be one of the best persons you had ever met, no matter it was hard to get him out of his shell.

“If you want to sleep I could keep watch for you.” You offered though you were pretty sure of what was going to be his answer.

“Nah, I’m good here.”

“Okay, mind if I sit with you?”

He shook his head again. "You should rest though.”

“In a bit.” When you were exhausted enough that you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

For a while you both stayed there in silence, but you felt calmer with Daryl next to you. You looked around at the sleeping group and smiled softly when you saw Glenn and Maggie snuggled together. Sure it might be easy to fall asleep with someone holding you, or at least lying there awake would be more enjoyable.

You caught Daryl glancing at you through the corner of his eye, silent. When he realized you had caught him, he dropped his gaze to the ground without saying anything.

“If you want to tell me something just do it, it’s fine.” You told him softly, but  he shook his head in silence. You had been friends for a while now and still it was hard to get him to tell you what was on his mind most times.

Eventually, when you had given up on the idea of him telling you what he was thinking, he began talking.

“You were with this guy at the quarry…Richard? He didn’t want to go to the CDC but you did, and you both parted ways like nothing…”

You were taken aback, you hadn’t expected Daryl to bring up something like that. You could only blink at him in surprise and he shrugged, looking away from you and seeming self-conscious. You let out a long breath as you thought about his words.

“It…it wasn’t like nothing.” It had actually been a long night of fighting about it. “But I knew that going with all of you to the CDC was the safest idea, and I wanted answers.” The ones you had found weren’t enough and were terrifying, but at least it was something. “He didn’t agree, thought we’d be better on our own. None of us was going to change our mind, so…” You shrugged.

“But it was like you didn’t care about what happened to each other.” Daryl pressed, and you knew he didn’t mean anything bad and you were glad he was sharing his mind with you, but still, you were feeling guilty and embarrassed.

“It’s not that, I did care, I hope he’s okay wherever he is.” However, you hadn’t thought back to him in quite a while, if you were honest. “But I told you, we had different ideas so we decided it was best to part ways…” Or you had decided it, you hadn’t been sure Richard wasn’t just going to grab you and push you into his car, but you guessed he hadn’t wanted to cause a scene in front of everyone.

Still, you were feeling guilty and you began to fidget. Daryl seemed to notice it. “I don’t mean it as something bad…just asking…” He shrugged shyly. “I always thought he was an idiotic prick.”

That made you snort quietly. “We hadn’t been dating for long.” You had met each other just a few months before the apocalypse. “But yes, I’m pretty confident he was an idiotic prick.” Both you and Daryl chuckled. “He wasn’t that bad before, but he turned worse and worse as the world went to shit, always telling me what to do and what not, trying to control me, behaving like I was a useless damsel in distress or some shit.”

You rolled your eyes, annoyed. You had put down more walkers than him yet he behaved towards you like you couldn’t do anything by yourself. He wanted to be on top of everything, to have people following him, he had hated how first Shane had been a leader to the camp, then Rick, despising the men, always trying to turn you and anyone he could against them. But you had known the value of both Rick and Shane, and Richard wouldn’t be like that in a million times. The reason he hadn’t wanted to go to the CDC was to get rid of Shane and Rick, you knew it, and to have people following him, but you hadn’t wanted to be part of that.

“Pff…didn’t you save his ass in the woods once when he walked right into some walkers?” Daryl raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yep.” You scoffed. “And he didn’t lose time to get angry at me and tell me how much I had embarrassed him in front of everyone.”

“Asshole.”

“Pretty much an asshole.” You chuckled again and Daryl smirked. “But not the biggest asshole I ever dated, though. Neither the second.”

Daryl looked at you amused, “Really?”

“Yep.” You laughed quietly. “I don’t have the best dating history, you know.”

“Who was the biggest one?” Daryl asked and you were surprised to hear him asking a personal question, but you didn’t mind it. You liked the idea of getting to know each other better, he was a good friend after all.

“You really wanna hear my sad love life, Dixon?” You half-joked and he shrugged. “You’re gonna tell me about yours?” You honestly couldn’t imagine Daryl being in a relationship but who knew.

“You can tell me or not, don’t care.” He mumbled, dodging your question, and with the way he was turning and looking away for you, you could see you had made him uncomfortable. It hadn’t been your intention, and you felt bad.

“I’d like to, venting about it seems like a good  plan to spend the time.” You smiled at him, hoping he wasn’t upset. “If you really don’t mind it, I think I just got in the mood to rant about Richard.”

Daryl glanced at you through the corner of the eye and you thought he wasn’t going to say anything, but then the corner of his mouth twitched into a tiny smile.

“Go ahead.”

*

“But you knew he had more girls?”

“Yeah…”

You had spent the last couple of nights telling Daryl all about the awful guys you had dated. Honestly, you’d never thought you’d talk about something like that with Daryl Dixon of all people, but it was good. Sometimes it was fun, other times it still hurt to talk about it, but it felt cathartic.

“And you didn’t care?” He was frowning at you now.

“It’s not that I didn’t care…it’s…complicated.” You let out a sigh. “I was young and dumb, you know.”

“Was he older than you?”

“Yeah, but not like the one I told you yesterday.” You had dated someone ten years older than you when you were in your late teens and now the memories made you cringe. Daryl just hummed without saying anything.

“I just though…I don’t know…He always told me how I was the best one, but that the others blackmailed him to be with them or some shit, but that he wanted to be with me no matter what…” You huffed at how silly you had been. “Or then he’d tell me that he wasn’t sure if I truly loved him and how I had to prove it to him. But I was never enough to be the only one, it seemed.” You shook your head, disgusted and upset. That one still hurt, you felt you had been an idiot, but you had been in love nonetheless.

“We don’t have to talk about this anymore.” Daryl offered, noticing your distress, and you gave him a weak smile.

“No, it’s fine, I like it…I never told anyone the full extent of it, you know…” You had been too embarrassed to share it, but you felt Daryl didn’t judge you. “I just feel so stupid now, but I couldn’t help myself, I was young and in love with that prick.” You let out a sigh. “I don’t know why I’d care that much about being number one and the one and only for that prick.”

“He does sound like a prick…” Daryl mumbled.

“He had his good things…he knew how to be pretty charming…” You shrugged, you knew you had been an idiot. “Anyway, about one year and a half later he moved away with this girl, younger than me, pretty, I was so brokenhearted…” You’d cried for weeks, didn’t get up from the bed, and now you shook your head in embarrassment. “He still called me and all that, at first I tried to ignore him but…Anyway, here comes the fun part and by fun, I mean worst.”

“Wasn’t it bad enough? You’re worse than a shit romance novel.” Daryl joked and you nudged him with your shoulder, but you knew he didn’t mean anything bad.

“We’re getting very novel-like, mind you. Well, he comes one day, calls me saying he wants to meet, and then he tells me that he’s getting married cos his girl is pregnant, but that he really hopes to keep seeing me cos he likes me more, and kisses me and yeah, well…it wasn’t fun.”

Your heart had been shattered and you thought you would never be able to put it back together, but you did. Daryl looked at you as if shocked. “What a damn prick.”

“Yeah…yeah he was…”

“So you didn’t see him more after that?”

“Well…” You fidgeted, embarrassed.

“Seriously?”

“I told you, I was stupid and young…I kept seeing him when he came to the town but it didn’t take me more than a couple of months to tell him I didn’t want to see him anymore…” Still, you had been brokenhearted for months and months. “I couldn’t take it anymore and I started to see how he really was.”

“Took you long enough.”

“I know…”

Daryl didn’t say anything else and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you had been wrong, maybe he did judge you…maybe he thought you were a homewrecker bitch and an idiot, maybe you were. You felt a lump in your throat and you swallowed hard.

“It’s just I can’t see you acting like that…” Daryl said quietly. “Dunno…I thought you’d have punched someone like that in the face.”

You snorted. “Yeah well, back then I wasn’t like I am now.” You had grown a lot, both before and after the apocalypse. You all had grown after the apocalypse. “And I was an idiot in love.” You let out a sigh. “But yeah, I bet you had never done something stupid because of that, so whatever.”

Daryl shifted uncomfortably and you knew better than to press it. During the nights you had been telling him about your love life, you had asked him about his too, trying to learn something more about him, but he never told you anything. You had begun to wonder if he had ever had a relationship, but you didn’t want to press him and make uncomfortable. By now you had given up on the idea of getting to know more about that part of his life.

You stayed silent, you didn’t feel like thinking or talking more about your relationships for the night. Besides, you didn’t have many more to tell…

“There was this girl…uh…” Daryl began talking and you looked at him surprised. Was he really going to tell you about a girl he had dated? You held your breath, hoping he’d continue, he seemed to be looking for the right words, frown on his face.

“She was friends with one of the girls my brother was hooking up back them…with more than one, probably. I must have been like seventeen or eighteen, I used to go with my brother and his friends to this bar each night, where the girls were. So there was this girl…I didn’t think she’d have even noticed me, but one night she began talking to me. I didn’t know why. But she kept doing it, night after night…like she was interested in me…so yeah…”

He really was telling you and you couldn’t believe it. It made you so happy that Daryl would open up and share it with you, you couldn’t help your smile as you listened to him. You could guess how hard it must have been for that girl to get Daryl out of his shell.

“So…I don’t know if you want to say we got together or whatever…I thought she liked me…” You could see how uncomfortable Daryl was, his cheeks blushed, and you wished you could make him feel more at ease but you didn’t know how. On one hand you felt like telling him he didn’t need to tell you, but now that he was actually sharing it with you, you wanted to hear it.

“But, she didn’t like me. Didn’t know why I even thought she did.” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head. “What she liked were my brother’s drugs. He used to deal back then. So one day she told me to get Merle’s stash for her…and yeah, well, I did. When Merle found out…he wasn’t happy.” You didn’t want to even imagine the fight those two must have had. “And once she realized I wasn’t going to be able to get her more of Merle’s stuff, she didn’t even look at me again…so yeah…I was an idiot too.”

“Daryl…”

You looked at him but he was looking away, cheeks red, arms around his knees as if shielding himself. You wanted to hug him or something, but you didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable. You were brokenhearted at someone doing that to him. You had wondered how hard it must have been for that girl to get Daryl to open up, and she had only taken advantage of it. You were enraged at her, you wanted to slap her, yell at her…You couldn’t believe someone would use Daryl like that after getting him to lower his thick walls, after getting to know the sweet, great man he was…

“That girl was a damn prick, as stupid as mean.” You huffed. “She didn’t know how lucky she was, she didn’t know what she had!” You couldn’t help how mad you were. Daryl just scoffed, shaking his head. “I mean it, Daryl, she didn’t deserve you. At all.”

He looked at you at that, frowning and as if trying to see if you might be messing with him. He seemed to decide you were genuine, but he just shrugged again, looking away. You didn’t know how to make him feel better, you didn’t know if you could.

“At least we know we aren’t the only ones who are idiots when they are in love.” You joked softly, waiting for his reaction with bated breath.

Daryl scoffed but a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he looked at you. “I wasn’t in love or nothing.” He grumbled.

“Okay.”

You didn’t press it more, grateful he had shared that with you. It seemed you weren’t the only one with a sad love life, and you hoped you were helping each other to mend your past broken hearts as you shared your stories.

*

Next day you were back at sharing Daryl’s night watch, both of you in silence. Neither of you had talked again about the stories you had shared last night. You kept thinking about Daryl’s, grateful he had shared it with you but also sad and mad at the girl who had used him like that and taken advantage of Daryl’s big heart.

You weren’t sure if Daryl maybe regretted telling you, or if he was now awkward and uncomfortable, but you didn’t mention anything else about it, just in case. He was silent and thoughtful, yes, but you didn’t think that more than usual.

“You ain’t telling me nothing today?” He asked you after a while, surprising you a bit. You looked at him but he was looking away. You didn’t know if he was really interested or if maybe he just thought you might be bored there.

“Don’t have much more to tell, I’ve told you about almost every awful guy I’ve dated I think.” You said and Daryl just hummed.

You chewed on your nails as you considering telling him one last story, this time a little bit different.  You were mostly sure Daryl wasn’t going to react badly to it, but still, you knew how Merle had been and Daryl was his brother after all…but both Dixons were different, and Daryl had come a long way since stepping away from his brother’s shadow. And after all, he had shared something private and deep with you yesterday, it might not seem like it but you knew it had been hard for him. You knew he had to trust you to talk to you about something like that, and you were grateful you had his trust. You wanted to share something deep with him too.

“You know how I’ve told you only awful love stories?” You asked and Daryl nodded. “What if I told you about one that wasn’t awful?”

“Okay.” He shrugged.

“It doesn’t really have a happy ending, though.”

“Didn’t expect any less from one of your stories.” Daryl half-joked, looking at you with a tiny, half smile.

“Mean.” You nudged him playfully. “Anyway, I was in my second year of college and I met this new girl. She was like, super smart, had gotten there with a scholarship and all, and I thought she was so pretty, like one of those girls you think doesn’t exist out of a magazine or something like that.”

You smiled sadly, the memories were bittersweet. “Anyway we began talking and soon we were friends. But I…I didn’t like her only as a friend, and the more time I spent with her, the harder I fell for her. So one day, we were celebrating we’d passed our exams and I kind of kissed her out of the blue. But, she freaked out and left, didn’t talk to me in days.” You’d been so scared, berating yourself, thinking you had lost her and her friendship forever.

“Until a few days later she came to my place and I opened the door and she kissed me and it was just…” You let out a dreamy sigh, smiling like an idiot at the memories. “She’d never thought she might like girls, had never let herself think it. But once she did, she realized she didn’t want me only as a friend either. Lucky me. And so well, we began dating. Best damn relationship I ever had, I think.”

You sneaked a glance at Daryl, trying to see his reaction at what you were saying. He was looking at you and seemed a bit surprised, but you didn’t know if in a bad way or not. When you caught him staring he looked away, though he kept glancing at you through the corner of his eye.

“Daryl, if you want to tell me something, go ahead.” You told him softly.

“Just…didn’t know you liked girls…” Daryl mumbled.

“Yeah, well…didn’t feel like I had to go around announcing it.” You weren’t ashamed or anything, but the other people in your group didn’t introduce themselves saying hi I’m hetero or anything like that, so you didn’t know why you should have.

“Didn’t mean it like that…” Daryl said quietly. “Just…you’ve been telling me about all those guys you dated…”

“It’s not my fault most of my awful dates were boys.” You chuckled awkwardly. “I like both boys and girls, I’m bisexual.” You shrugged, trying not to make a big deal of it. Daryl didn’t say anything, making you feel a bit insecure. “You think there’s anything wrong with it or something?”

“Why would I?” Daryl looked at you weird and you shrugged.

“Dunno…some people don’t really take it well sometimes...”

It could go from them thinking there was something wrong with liking girls, to others thinking you were either hetero or a lesbian but confused, or that you wanted it all and wanted to be special and different, or whatever shit you had ever had to hear, or to them deadpan telling you bisexuality didn’t exist. As if you didn’t know how you felt.

“Yeah, well, some people are idiotic assholes,” Daryl said, making you snort, giving relieved, grateful smile that he returned, the corner of his mouth twitching into a tiny one. “Why you didn’t get a happy ending with that girl?”

“Well…when we graduated she got this really good grades cos I told you, she was damn intelligent. And she was offered a scholarship to study in a super good post-grad school in another country, it was a dream come true, right what she wanted, a super good chance. But I couldn’t go with her.” You couldn’t afford it and you needed to start working as soon as possible to pay your loans, your grades were neither brilliant.

“She said that then she wasn’t going to go, that she would stay with me. But I couldn’t have her missing that, not because of me, she deserved it, she was bound to do great things. I wasn’t going to hold her back from all that. So I ended the relationship, told her to go…” You realized you were almost crying, your voice breaking, and you let out an embarrassed chuckle, sniffing and rubbing your eyes. “So yeah, no happy ending…well, a bittersweet one.”

You were surprised to feel Daryl’s hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly, comfortingly, and you gave him a grateful smile, placing your hand on top of his.

“God…I hope she’s okay…that maybe this madness hasn’t reached wherever she’s living now.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Daryl offered, even though at the CDC you had been told the infection had spread worldwide. He might not look like it, he might fight it, but Daryl was just the sweetest.

*

Next night you joined Daryl again and for a while you both stayed silent. It wasn’t that unusual but still, as you stole glances at Daryl you noticed him even more thoughtful than usual, seeming nervous and fidgety.

“You okay?” You asked him and Daryl nodded in silence without looking at you. You still felt there was something off with him “Daryl, if you are worried about something, or anything, you know you can tell me.” You told him softly as he shifted as if uncomfortable.

“Ain’t nothing.” He turned slightly away from you, and you didn’t press it.

For a while he didn’t say anything, but then he began talking again, his body still slightly turned away so you couldn’t see his face. “It’s just…I’ve been thinking…what you told me yesterday…just…nothing.” He trailed off, looking more uncomfortable and unsure than you had ever seen him.

It was making you feel bad for him but you didn’t know what he was trying to say or how to help him, though you guessed it might have something to do with another bad love story like the one he had told you a couple nights ago. You wanted to give him some support and you reached out for his hand, but he flinched it away roughly. You were about to apologize but he gave you a side way glance and relaxed a bit, slowly sliding his hand closer to yours until you felt his fingers gently drumming over yours, nervously.

After a little while of silence, you heard him swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, and then he began talking again. “I hadn’t really had anyone before, when I was little, like friends, not beside my brother. People in my town didn’t like Dixons…I can’t blame them…” This wasn’t really what you had expected him to start telling you, but you were glad he was telling you something more about his life, and you listened in silence. “Anyway…I was in high-school and there was this group in class, they’d always pick on me, making fun of me, cos you know, redneck trash and whatever…”

“Hey.” You couldn’t stop yourself from lacing your fingers with his at that and squeezing his hand. “You are nothing like that, okay?” Daryl just shrugged.

“I know what I am.” He murmured. “Anyway, I got into a lot of fights with them. And there was this guy in my class, I don’t know why but he began standing up for me…got him into trouble too. But he didn’t seem to care. And yeah, well, we became friends.” Daryl fell silent again, his fingers playing nervously with yours. You squeezed his hand gently as you waited for him to keep going.

“Merle wasn’t around so I had none but him. We’d hang out, we’d get into fights with whoever picked on us, it was good. Yeah, yeah, it was good… There was this time that Merle came back for a couple weeks, though, and he didn’t like him, didn’t like that we were friends, though I didn’t understand why back then. Told me to stop hanging out with him, he even threatened him, but neither of us listened to it. Merle didn’t like that…”

Daryl swallowed hard again, his fingers twitching nervously, and you rubbed your thumb softly over his knuckles, trying to reassure him.

“His parents didn’t like it either…how were they gonna like their kid being friends with a Dixon…” He scoffed and you hated he still thought so low of him sometimes, but you didn’t say anything, letting him speak. “Especially not after my brother threatened him…but he didn’t care, didn’t stop hanging out with me. Until one day, his parents picked up their things and left our shit town, they had found a job in another one or some shit…didn’t even let him say goodbye…”

“Daryl…” You squeezed his hand, your heart hurting for little Daryl. “I’m sorry…”

“Yeah, well…”

Daryl shrugged, seeming uncomfortable, and you both stayed silent for a while, your thumb tracing gentle circles over the back of his hand.

“I…I’ve been thinking about what you told me yesterday…” Daryl began quietly but then he stopped again for a little while. “’being thinking about what you said…about that girl, that you…that you didn’t like her only as a friend…” He stopped again and you waited until he felt like speaking again, you thought you guessed where this might be going to and you didn’t mind waiting the whole night if he needed it.

“And I…I’ve been thinking…maybe…dunno…” He shrugged, uncomfortable, his hand shaking ever so slightly in yours, and you squeezed it gently. “Maybe I…dunno, but maybe I… maybe didn’t like him only as a friend, either…don’t know… I just…dunno. I’ve been thinking all the time about what you told me…and then thinking about back then…and I think…I think that maybe I…that maybe I too…don’t know…” He trailed off, he seemed to find it hard to put his thoughts into words and he seemed so uncomfortable and nervous that it was hurting you. He looked at you for a second, his eyes nervous, before looking away again.

“It’s okay, Daryl.” You tried to reassure him softly, he was such a close, private person, and with what you knew about his past and family, you knew how hard this must be for him. You couldn’t be more grateful that he was sharing it with you, but you didn’t want him to keep going if it was making him feel bad. “You don’t need to tell me anything else, it’s okay. But if you want to, then I’m here for you, alright?” You squeezed his hand again.

Daryl nodded, looking at you for another second before looking down. “I think…I think that maybe…that maybe I’m like you in that.” He whispered. You didn’t know what to say, afraid of saying the wrong thing, but you didn’t want to not tell him anything either.

“And how do you feel about it?” You ventured and Daryl just shrugged, seeming helpless. “It’s okay, you don’t need to have anything figured out and it’s nobody’s business but yours.” Daryl didn’t say anything, looking away. “But, if you are like me…then, well, what I’m going to say, I think it’s more than okay.” Daryl looked at you at that, still seeming unsure.

“You told me yesterday, didn’t you? That it was okay, that there was nothing wrong with me liking boys but girls too. Didn’t you?” You tugged at his hand gently and he looked at you, nodding softly.

“Then, if you might like both girls and boys too, it’d be okay too.” You shrugged, trying to say it casual, like it wasn’t a big deal, giving Daryl a smile. His eyes darted back and forth from you and the ground and then he nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting into a tiny, tiny smile.

He still seemed a bit nervous, and like he didn’t know what to say, but he didn’t seem as uncomfortable and scared as he before. You stayed silent too, holding his hand, letting him process everything and calm down.

“Hey, Daryl.” You started when you thought he was feeling better. “Thank you for sharing all this with me, really, it means a lot to me. More than I can tell you, seriously.”

Daryl looked at you with a soft smile at that, his cheeks still blushed but he seemed to be feeling better, and this time it was him who gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “It was you who started.”

“Yes, and I really liked it, I think it was good for me, made me feel better.” It had been bittersweet, but you had liked to share all the bad and the good times, the memories, healing the bad, cherishing the good, and getting Daryl to know you a bit more.

“Me too,” Daryl said quietly and you couldn’t help your smile. You really wished it was true, that he felt better about everything, about himself.

“You don’t have to but…if anytime you feel like talking about this…well, I’m here for you, okay?” You offered softly, didn’t want to press it.

“Yeah…yeah, okay.” Daryl smiled softly and nodded.

You squeezed his hand back and carefully leaned against his arm, resting your head in his shoulder, a silence that had nothing of uncomfortable filling the night’s air as you kept each other company during the watch.

-------

I’m a bit nervous about this, I’m not going to lie, but it was important for me to write it.I hope I did it good...what you thought about Daryl’s past love stories? It was fun to imagine that side of him, but also challenging. 

Thank you all for reading! I hope you liked it! If you have a moment, please let me know your thoughts in the comments, your feedback makes my day! 

As always, English is not my first language so sorry if there are mistakes.

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[treewithabark]

AGNRY ESAY RANT FITE ME

Okay lads buckle in. I need to have a fat rant and a whinge today and it’s going to be a long one. This is literally an essay long rant of 1,900+ words so don’t click the read more unless you’re prepared to scroll through a fuck ton of angry writing. Will probably delete this later, I don’t care if people read or not, I just really need a space to get out all my feelings because I have a lot of built up frustration in regards to other peoples reactions to myself and Hana

It is poorly written and stuff has been missed out because there’s so many situations that I can write about so I picked a “few”

I am so sick of people looking at me and Hana and judging us at face value for something we’re not even a part of. Let’s start with day to day walking.

We walk up our town’s highstreet often. It’s the easiest way to access all good walks in the area, even if we don’t walk up the entire highstreet we still have to cross through it halfway to access the quiet side streets. Hana is pretty much always muzzled along these streets. Halfway through the highstreet are a couple of people who have a dog or two off lead, and while friendly, these dogs don’t have the best recall when they see a dog. We always cross to avoid these dogs as they don’t seem to cross roads without their owners. While irritating I don’t mind this so much as they’re easily avoided. However, lots of other people walk their dogs up and down this highstreet, we have lots of dog friendly shops and cafes (I even work in a dog friendly café, I will come back to this later) and as mentioned above, it is the main and easiest way to access the best walks.

The number of times I’ve had dogs lunge, bark, and generally make at scene as I walk past Hana is pretty high. Hana for the most part is very good at dealing with this, she can keep a great focus on me, and while she sometimes pulls towards the source of noise to see what’s happening, the only time she has tried to instigate something with another other dog I caught and corrected the behaviour before she even had the chance to make it a big reaction. Yet despite this good behaviour from her part, when people turn around to see who and what is making a huge commotion all eyes fall on her, and I get the judgmental looks and glares of disapproval. One time a terrier on the other side of the road barked at a woman walking three dogs on the same side as me (I was lurking behind a several meters) and all three reacted at once and was lunging at the side of the road. Some people poked their heads out of nearby shops while others turned around. Again, I had some funny looks even though Hana was in a loose lead heel and making no noise at all.

Let’s go back to that café I work in. It is dog friendly, I like this. I meet many lovely dogs here. My favourite being the Finnish Lapphund, Luca, and his lovely owner. There is one particular woman who comes here every day, sometimes twice a day, with her two westie mixes. They bark a LOT. She leaves them tied to the table to have a cigarette outside most days, again at least once or twice. When she does this, they bark. When someone sits near them with food, they bark. Someone they know walks in, they bark. Another dog walks in?? They go absolutely nuts. Sometimes they are calmer and bark less, but most of the time, guess what, they bark. We even had a customer report that one of them had bitten another customer, but since the customer in question hadn’t approached us to make a complaint we couldn’t do anything about it.

Sometimes on my day off I will pop in with Hana (again, always muzzled and usually wearing a marked harness to caution others to give us space) so I can get a discount coffee before or after a walk. Yet again, Hana is always on her very best behaviour. I’ve worked hard to have her calm and focused in these environments. The drill is that we walk in on a close heel, we join the queue (sometimes go straight to the till, these are the best days) and she sits on the inside so she isn’t in the walkway. Sometimes I do a down stay just to mix things up ;) I always hope that these westie mixes aren’t in at the same time because they are loud and distracting, but we’ve seen them a few times and they will go nuts. Sometimes they are quiet until we turn to leave, but there is always a reaction from them. In this case most dirty looks go to this woman, but a couple of times I have had the look despite Hana being quiet and controlled, but looking at the noise makers.

This brings us to today. There is a lady who walks a lovely 1 year old husky. She has come into our Café before and her dog was beautifully behaved. My coworker also has a husky so they talked for a little while and I joined in every now and then. During the conversation this lady brought up that her husky had been bitten on the cheek by a malamute while chatting with its owners. Both dogs on lead, and the malamute owners assured her that their dog was fine with other dogs. However, he still got bitten. I have since seen this woman from a distance a few times on walks, she has never recognised or acknowledged me but she has no reason to because we are always so far away, and I only recognised her from the dog. One of these times she and another owner took up the entire pathway to the only entrance to a walk (which is several meters wide) while their dogs greeted each other and played on lead. I kept back and sat Hana to the side working on her focus, waiting for them to move. They did after 5 minutes and although a bit peeved it didn’t affect our walk.

Today she was leaving from that entrance, again I must mention that this walkway is SEVERAL meters wide, so I took Hana to the very edge and sat her down to work on focus, on the inside so that I was blocking her from the dog. This is when she calls over “your dog has gone for mine before hasn’t it?”. Now Hana has NEVER met this dog, only seen him from afar, and never once has she reacted to it except having a little look at him. This stunned me and all I could answer was “uhhh, well she’s not friendly”. What I should have said is “no they’ve never met but mine isn’t friendly which is why we’re giving you some distance”. She then said that she will move into a shop so we can pass, again I should have said thank you and moved on, but I said that it was fine for her to pass as she is (she was right on the other side) because my dog is fine and it’s quicker for her just to walk by. She then asked if Hana lunged at other dogs, to which I replied, sometimes, if the dog enters her space. She then went into the story about how a malamute attacked her dog when the other owners said that it was fine and that she feels uncomfortable with other malamutes and similar dogs that may lunge as she doesn’t trust that they will actually be okay. I of course already know this story, and know that the dog that bit her dog was in close proximity as they were having a conversation and were stood close to each other. I told her I understood but Hana has pretty good focus on me around other dogs and that she’s unlikely to lunge (side note: if Hana DID lunge she would not be at all close to her dog). She again said that she was uncomfortable and that she’s not personally attacking me but it’s just how she feels. Again, understood, all cool. She then decided to make a “little suggestion” about getting a walking belt like hers that attaches to her lead, so that if my dog were to lunge there is no way that I could drop the lead by accident. I thanked her and said I’ve looked at them before so will maybe look into it again. I then pointed out my muzzle and said that she usually wears this, but at this time of day we rarely pass any dogs on the street and the walk we are entering is all dogs on lead, so it was clipped to my jeans rather than her wearing it. She gave me a real funny look at this, not happy with my answer. At this point I offer to leave the walkway and walk Hana away so she can leave without feeling uncomfortable which she took. And that was the end of it. But what I can’t convey through this rant is the condescending tone this woman had while talking to me, and the disbelieving look she gave me the whole time. OH and did I mention that Hana was in a sit stay the whole time, taking treats from me and watching her dog calmly???

It just irritates me that people seem to look past Hana’s great behaviour, and instead see a 5’2 girl walking a massive fucking dog with a muzzle and sometimes warning signs, and take this to mean that she isn’t trained or is automatically a danger to everyone around her. Or that the noise must always come from her since she is the dog in a muzzle and is obviously the perpetrator  The muzzle is there to protect other dogs if they happen to enter her space, and the signs on her harness are to warn people that she needs a little bit of space. She is not a bad dog.

Now I know myself that Hana isn’t perfect. This isn’t a post to gloat about how well behaved my dog is despite her issues and everyone else is wrong. Some walks we struggle with behaviour, some walks are stressful because off lead dogs are harassing her and she’s too over the threshold to pull a focus from her. But you know what I do on those days? I avoid places with too many dogs and people, I skip my coffee, I take the longer route around to make sure she is stress free and her walking is good.

And I’ve also met so many people who have been so brilliant with their own dogs, and understanding of Hanas need for space. Lots of people call their dogs away at the sight of us, and will allow us to pass. We have received compliments from lots of people at how calm Hana is and about how beautiful she is. We have people ask us about the muzzle just out of curiosity, and ask if it’s okay to greet her. I’ve had conversations with other dog owners while Hana is calm and happy just being at a comfortable distance from them. So many people make my day better from their compliments and understanding, yet somehow the negative moments stick with me more.

RANT OVER OH MY LORD

I still have so many stories about off lead dogs but I will not go into that because that will just be another 1,000 words. AHGHJGJGFKDHB

[imreallyhereforplance]

Why No One Addressed Pidge’s Well-Being or Lance’s Outburst (+ S8 Plance Theory)

So I see that there are some posts where people are expressing an understandable amount of disappointment that the torture scene wasn’t expanded upon. That we didn’t see Pidge thank Lance or anyone ask Pidge if she was alright.

I was also confused, so I did some thinking, and came to a conclusion that’s actually pretty comforting to me: The writers did this to preserve atmosphere, and this scene will be addressed and/or paralleled in a future episode. Not just because we ship plance and we’re hoping for more scenes, but because it would help the writers reel the audience (or anyone who cares about Lance’s well-being) in during this future episode.

I COULD BE WRONG, but I’m actually pretty optimistic, and this post explains my thought process. It’s long, but if I can write it, then I believe that you have the strength to read it (if you want). Good luck.

@lancemccutie, this is dedicated to you ;)

As I mentioned, people have been disappointed at seeing NOBODY ask Pidge if she’s okay. And us plance shippers really wanted Pidge to thank Lance or something sweet like that.

But I feel like that’s just not the writers’ style. In a calmer situation where everyone is together, they might brush upon romantic subplots or, more commonly, illustrate the power of friendship/teamwork in general. In a more intense scene, though, they focus on events, like “Torture. Cut to Acxa. Hacking. Sentries.” That kind of thing. Because it’s all about ATMOSPHERE. So let’s talk about it. (I promise this is relevant.)

The torture scene. Wow, that was an emotional rollercoaster. Personally, I WAS surprised that no one said anything to Pidge, and I too was disappointed when we didn’t see her react to Lance. But remember that it was an intense portion of the episode, and an intense episode in general. There were multiple events going on, back-and-forthing between Coran, Acxa, the mice, the prisoners, and Ezor and Zethrid. The creators clearly outline this as an eventful episode, and they work hard to build up an atmosphere. This episode especially, since it’s the first time our heroes have actually been apprehended.

So in order to build this atmosphere, this dread, and make you really hope and really root for these characters, including Axca of all people, who might be their only hope, the writers cannot include anything that might subtract from what’s happening, even if it “makes sense.” (Like I get that there was some humor sprinkled in this episode, but it was mostly Coran giving away their location, which was a BAD thing.)

It makes sense that someone would ask Pidge if she’s okay. Which is why I am CERTAIN that someone did, we just didn’t see it because we had flashed to another character perspective. And why did we need to miss it? Because that would give us too big of a relief, we would have the subconscious feeling that it was over, things were better now. And of course we feel relief when they stop messing with Pidge, that’s unavoidable, but the creators realize that, and don’t want that. Or at least, too much of it. Because it’d be like spoiling their work.

Remember why the creators chose that she would be tortured in the first place – To BUILD atmosphere. To make you DREAD what’s happening. Like the popsicle post said, it “will make you gasp.” It tells the audience how bad the situation is. And it was remarkably effective. However, once she was released, they knew the audience was going to feel slightly better, and they didn’t want that. They wanted the audience to remain anxious. They wanted to minimize the feeling of relief so as not to take away too much from the dread that they’ve built up in their audience – the same dread they just created by including the scene.

So once Ezor stopped, the writers don’t bring any more attention to how Pidge is doing. Asking “Are you okay,” and Pidge saying “Yeah...I’m fine” would make us feel pity or concern at her particular well-being rather than concern at the situation as a whole. Instead, they want us to remember that the situation is still SUPER bad, so it’s treated like a “Nope, moving on. We gotta go – now!” kinda thing where they aren’t going to address this, and we the viewers are taken along for the ride. Having her tell us that she’s okay SUBSTRACTS from the atmosphere they’ve made from her being threatened, and instead draws our attention to Pidge particularly for a little too long for the writers’ liking. It would be a pause in what’s going on. Yes, it’d be a brief pause, but still there.

With this in mind, I guess you could say that Pidge is thereby used as a means to an end, but isn’t that true for everything that happens to these characters? Cuz the point is to tell a story, and you tell a story using those characters. You build an atmosphere using those characters. 

(Also, real quick, this logic potentially means that Pidge really could have thanked Lance as well and we missed it because the writers wanted the general audience to get the most excitement/emotionally out of this episode. Which I respect and, as you’ll soon see, doesn’t bother me, because the scene as a whole MAY STILL BE ADDRESSED LATER ON IN THE SERIES.)

So, THAT IS MY REASONING FOR WHY WE NEVER SEE THE TORTURE SCENE BEING ADDRESSED AGAIN. (For that episode at least.)

HOWEVER, even if we didn’t see it as the viewers, there is NO WAY IN CANON THAT THEY DIDN’T ASK HER IF SHE WAS ALRIGHT. It doesn’t fit their characters at ALL.

Moving on from that specific episode, we all know that Voltron is not just a bunch of events. There are lots of beautiful relationships and lots of character development. But there are certain times for that, and they work better than in such an intense, action-packed, back-and-forthing episode. (And sometimes a juxtaposition of emotion and action are intentionally put together, like when Keith fights Kuron. Intense, but also deliberately emotional.)

Usually when the story focus on relationships, whether platonic or romantic, it tends to have a particular atmosphere that’s different from “In the Way Forward”. When the Paladins built their trust in one another and talked things out when they were stranded in space, almost the ENTIRE EPISODE was dedicated to it. Because it was important to the story that they worked things out and built Hunk at this time in the season. (And the hallucinations and sense of the unknown alone built an atmosphere imo)

The creators work out when a good time to focus on these relationships is, such as the aforementioned episode, and in “The Feud!” Notice that at these times, the atmospheres are a bit calmer, everyone the story is focused on for that episode’s plot is together, there’s no back-and-forthing between characters.

So what about the A//urance scenes? The creators included it because they felt it was important for whatever direction their relationship was going to take, and they included it at a relatively appropriate time. Not in the heat of battle, but before the battle. They let the audience know where these two characters stand, and they do it briefly because it’s not the main focus of the episode, but apparently needs to be addressed. (Interesting….)

Now that all this ATMOSPHERE stuff has been established, let’s move on to PARALLELS. Particularly, between Pidge and Lance. This is when I start specifically talking about future plance goodness along with Pidge and the torture scene.

SO. You know what I think would be veeery appropriate?

A reverse “DON’T YOU TOUCH HER” scene.

Let me explain. If you think about it, Pidge and Lance have sooo many parallels. And sometimes these parallels occur over multiple seasons.

And because this particular scene stands out to all viewers, whether you ship plance or not, I feel that it’s likely, based on the pattern we keep seeing, that something reversed and similar will eventually occur.

Such as, someone ridiculing Lance, and Pidge saying “Back off.”

Or – and this is what I think will happen – an enemy approaching Lance and Pidge saying “Get away from him!” or “Get off him!”

At first glance, these scenarios seem a lot more subtle than “DON’T YOU TOUCH HER,” and the receiver of Pidge’s outbursts may very well not even acknowledge her if she tells them to get tf back, but I think these hypothetical scenes fit with what we’ve been seeing for a while now.

You know why these would work? Because like “DON’T YOU TOUCH HER,” it’s not lovey-dovey. It’s not superficial. It’s not OUT OF CHARACTER IN ANY WAY. No matter what happens in season 8, whether Pidge has a crush on Lance or not (I believe she does), whether she confesses or not, NO ONE can reasonably say that these lines are OOC. They’re not lovey-dovey, but they still speak volumes.

WHICH IS WHY IT WOULD MAKE THE PERFECT PARALLEL TO “DON’T YOU TOUCH HER”. 

It supports my rant on atmosphere because, in the case where Lance is about to be hurt by some enemy, Pidge screaming “Get away from him!” DOES NOT SUBTRACT from the atmosphere. It actually BUILDS the atmosphere. It makes you MORE scared for Lance. It makes you MORE desperate. Like, “oh shi-“ kinda desperate. A “Get away from him!” is more telling in the story than a “thank you, Lance.”

And this is why a parallel to “DON’T YOU TOUCH HER” is not only possible, but probable because it would accomplish a job that the creators want accomplished – atmosphere. (I told you atmosphere was important :D ) And for those of you who read my other post, Plance: A Ramble, (https://imreallyhereforplance.tumblr.com/post/177048118646/plance-a-ramble-im-just-going-to-warn-you-this) this could possibly fit in with the fight where the broadsword appears or the optional fight afterwards where Pidge expresses great emotion towards others.

I think that this can also be applied to @artemisarya‘s wonderful theories as well. I did say “no matter what happens in s8” this parallel would work, but I honestly do think that plance has a remarkably good chance anyways.  

Also, just for the fun of it:

Remember how in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, which we’ve been comparing plance and “DON’T YOU TOUCH HER” to for a little while now (looking at @truegryffindorforever2), the dialogue was: 

Ron: GET OFF HER

Then there was some scuffling.

Hermione: No! Leave him alone!

So I feel like, while it’s not INEVITABLE and the creators could choose not to parallel this special scene, I think there’s a lot of potential for it in season 8, one that would even benefit the writers.

And, who knows? Maybe they will address the torture scene, but at a more suitable time plot-wise. Like, when Pidge and Lance are having a heart-to-heart? Pidge could thank Lance THEN, during an undistractedly emotional moment, filled with feels and nothing else demanding their attention. Instead of thanking Lance super quickly in front of all the other characters (including people like Krolia and Romelle) when the audience is supposed to be focusing on the direness of the situation. Personally, I think the former is an AWESOME time to have them discuss the torture scene.  

The purpose of this post is not to tell anyone that their disappointment is unjustified or invalid. Rather, the point is to share my personal thoughts and to give you hope that something that, to me, seems more like the writers’ style might come into play in S8. They might see a “thank you” during an intense scene as a SUBTRACTION from that episode’s suspenseful atmosphere, and will instead have a “Get AWAY from him!” moment to ADD to the atmosphere in a future episode. They’re saving it up to remold it in a way that’s noticeably beneficial to the story! (Again, it builds up atmosphere before something happens / almost happens to Lance.)

Also, despite how positive I might sound, I am obviously not a creator / writer / producer / anything-other-than-big-fan-of-Voltron. I could be completely wrong, I might make no sense, I might be overanalyzing, I may be missing the point. But this is what I think, and I hope it helps some of you <3 

Sorry it’s so long. If you have any patience left, tell me your thoughts!

Edit: I am aware that the "Lance! No!" scene can be interpreted as a parallel to "Don't you touch her!" and I agree with that perspective. To clarify, the parallel I am suggesting above does not only have similar energy, but a similar tone. The "Dont you touch her" scene was a much darker, slower, and more intense moment where Lance is not in a position where he can do much to help Pidge. This is what I envision for season 8 - where Pidge is prevented from coming to Lance's aid (whether it be because she is bound, hurt, or physically blocked) and the audience is aware that Lance is in grave danger. Hence the importance of atmosphere building as I've been discussing.

Once again, thank you for reading 💚💙

[thecrookedgavel]

The Black Box Readings - Ep 2 Transcript

Here’s the transcript for episode 2 of The Black Box Readings, the podcast where I read to you the backup of queer blogs that have gone down.

See Other Episodes

An: Hey, all! And welcome back to The Black Box Readings, the podcast where I read to you the backup of queer blogs that have gone down! I’m your host, An Capuano. I want to start off by thanking you for coming back for episode 2. It means a great deal to me. Last time we were introduced to Emmy and started getting into her story. But also, we got into some personal anecdotes from me… Some very personal anecdotes, actually. So a little peek behind the curtain, I’m recording this before the release of episode 1, but I showed an unmastered version to some of my friends and they all thought my little stories really added something to the episode. Which is good, because I felt really empowered by it, even if I didn’t really plan on sharing so much about me. 

If you haven’t heard episode 1 yet, I would really recommend taking the time to do so before continuing, but here’s a brief summary of what was covered:

Let’s see, we met our hero Emmy, and we learned that she’s a visual artist, and learned a bit about her being bi-polar and deaf. We also saw some hints of her being a trans lesbian. We come back into the swing of things with a frequently asked questions post as a response to the messages she received after her last post, titled:

“(Unfortunately) FAQ

Thank you for your attempts at cheering me up. I appreciate it, even though some things that were said were not helpful at all. Rather than replying to each of you individually, I decided to make a FAQ. Let’s get into them, shall we?

-You’re deaf? Why don’t you wear hearing aids?

Sorry, it’s not that simple. With the amount of deaf I am, I still can’t understand speech, even with hearing aids. So they’re basically pointless.

-Why don’t you get cochlear implants? Isn’t that the cure for being deaf?

There’s no easy fix for being deaf. Even with cochlear implants, you “hear” in a totally different way, and it’s taxing and torture from what I hear. Plus, my dad says we can’t afford them. I don’t know if I would want to have them if we could tbh. It all seems pretty scary if you ask me.

-Do you have a deaf accent when you talk? I know what you mean, but please don’t call it that. I’m not from the country of “Deaf”, so I wouldn’t call it an accent. But yeah, I talk funny, if that’s what you’re asking

-Are you able to lip read?

Yeah, I can. I’m ok at it, but I can really only follow one on one conversations. Any more than that, and I get lost easily. I understand the most when someone articulates and talks slowly for me.

-Wow, you’re really brave! I would kill myself if I couldn’t listen to music.

Gee, thanks. I’m glad you think my life isn’t worth living. There’s nothing brave about it, I just do what I can, and try not to beat myself up too badly. 

-Why not take medication for being bi-polar?

Honestly, it’s complicated. Being on tumblr is what made me realize that I’m bi-polar, not a doctor or anything. So there’s no one I can get meds from. Legally, at least, lol. My dad refuses to accept what I’m going through is a mental illness, he just thinks that I have behavioral problems. That I’m just doing all this to spite him or something. So I’m sort of stuck without meds for the time being. “

She can be very sassy, can’t she? There’s a bit of cleverness to her responses. No swearing or name calling, those things are just implied. It’s nice that she calls out the ableist rhetoric that disabled people are better off dead. It was heartwarming to see, when I originally read this post, that she does believe she has value as a person, even if it is sort of buried at the moment under the doom and gloom of her previous post. 

She also talks about how her Dad can’t pay, or maybe even won’t pay for cochlear implants, and refuses to get her psychiatric medication. I’m not the biggest fan of her Dad, to be honest, and why will become clearer as we progress through Emmy’s blog. In fact, our next post is about an interaction between the two of them. 

“Got mad at my Dad today

God, I’m so PISSED OFF, you don’t even know. My Dad is being his usual tyrannical self again. He never lets me do anything! Ok, so I just wanted to go to the corner store and pick up a few things we were missing around the house, nothing major, right? I wanted to be helpful, you know? But as I walk out the door, he grabs my shoulder and pulls me back into the house. He YELLS at me, even though he KNOWS I can’t understand him when he does that. After a while of telling him to stop yelling, he finally starts talking slowly for me. He told me that it’s not safe for me to leave the house on my own. That I might get hurt, kidnapped, or worse. I told him that I’d be fine, and that he needs to stop being so controlling all the time. Then he started quoting the Bible at me, I hate it when he does that. Something about the 10 commandments and how I’m supposed to honor him, idk. I know I’m supposed to believe it all, being I’m the son of a pastor, and all that. But I’m seriously an atheist, ok? I just don’t believe in God, fate, or any of it. Anyway, I hate to admit it, but he’s probably right. Not being able to hear a car coming does scare me a lot. Thanks for reading, rant over. “

This is one of many rants that made their way onto Emmy’s blog. I think she was able to use it to feel better about the negative things in her life. You can see at the end that she’s much calmer than she was at the beginning of the post, even going so far as to actually agree with her Dad. Though I get not wanting your child to get hurt, I don’t think he should have pulled her back into the house physically like that. And yelling on top of that? It all rubs me the wrong way. Though they’re not the reasons I truly dislike him. Unfortunately, those will come by in full force later on. 

Oh, I realize I haven’t given an anecdote yet, sorry about that. Let’s see… umm…  I guess I can really relate with the struggle of wanting to be independent. I’ve been really sick for more than 10 years now, and we had a lot of trouble getting a diagnosis. It’s looking like it’s all due to a concussion I had in my teens. I’m getting treated now, and things are looking up, actually! There’s a lot of hope with me. 

But before that, I actually had the opposite dynamic as Emmy. My parents would really push me to be independent, but I had sort of accepted where I was with my level of dependency. I couldn’t do things like exercise, laundry, or even make my own food, even on my best days, without feeling absolutely terrible afterwards. Certain movements would basically knock me out for the rest of the day. This lead to terrible sleep cycles, and my parents would get really upset with me for not appearing “normal.” I think it looked to them like I wasn’t making an effort, when in truth, I wasn’t normal and I was doing exactly what I could every day. It sort of came to a boiling point with them not understanding, and I sort of had to move out and get my own place to stop it from getting truly awful, honestly. It was hard, for a lot of reasons, including money reasons, but that’s a story for another time, I think. 

But back to Emmy herself, I guess we really haven’t talked about her religious views yet. She went into a bit of detail in an earlier post, but in the end, I decided to omit it from the podcast. Mostly because the core of it is present here. She doesn’t believe in God or predeterminism, and she has a real disdain for The Bible. It’s probably from oversaturation, to be honest? Like, grow up with a super religious parent, and you’re bound to want to rebel as a teen. Though I find it kind of funny that she says she doesn’t believe in fate, it’s not strictly a religious concept, and bit of a spoiler, but she ends up changing her mind on that front later on.

Next up is a post where Emmy talks about her aspirations and future goals. She wants to be a full time artist, and take the steps necessary to get there. She wants something more out of life, which is pretty natural for a teen. It’s why the “princess wanting more” story is told time and time again. Anyways, the post is titled:

“I Want To Do Art

I’ve been thinking a lot about the future recently, and I’ve been feeling pretty bored just sitting around doing whatever lately. I want to work for a living, but I know I can’t really do that without leaving the house. I want to be an artist. Like an animator or an illustrator. Something like that. It’s something I’m perfectly capable of doing, even if I can’t hear. I know my art needs work before I can make a job out of it, but I think that’s what I want out of life. 

I passed high school last year, even if I was homeschooled, it still counts! I don’t know what kind of art school would take me, and I understand that I’m disabled, but my Dad won’t even let me look for an art school. He just won’t fucking listen to me! He thinks I’m just going to sit at home and do nothing for the rest of my life, like some sort of fucking pet! I’m so sick of him! He’s so goddamn controlling and I fucking hate him for it! I don’t know what to live for if I can’t be an artist, tbh…”

Honestly, this is an upsetting post to me, for a number of reasons. It sort of gives me a flashback to high school, which never sounds good, but bear with me. I was told by someone I really looked up to, my acting teacher, that I’d never make it as an actor because of my hearing loss. He encouraged me that I could still work in theater, like being a stage manager, but the damage was kind of done. I always thought that he believed in me, he would give me opportunities like assistant director on several projects. I got a good amount of experience working with him. Maybe he believed I was better suited to being a director, which is something I have been doing, directing my own projects, like The Crooked Gavel. But I also have been voice acting, which is acting, right? Actually, talking through this has made me realize that he would be proud of me. I think he would be happy to have been proven wrong. I actually feel a lot better now. Interesting.

Anyways, where were we? *light chuckle* Right, so I think Emmy has the right to resent her Dad in this case. It sounds like he’s not trying to meet her halfway, not even trying to look into an art school for the disabled. To me, it seems like he just doesn’t want to let go of the idea of Emmy as his child. She’s growing up, and he’s kind of refusing to see it. There’s also the aspect that he might be embarrassed of her, which… *sigh* more on that later. 

---

Moving on, here’s another post accompanied by a piece of art. It’s… well it’s part of the reason why her previous post upsets me. Because I remember this post along side of it. If I had a copy of the picture, I’d probably have to warn you first. It was really dark. So, onto the post, titled:

“Here’s how I feel

I feel so trapped and small”

*Sigh* And I’ll try my best to give you a description from memory. I stared at it for a long time, I recall. I remember a figure wrapped in chains. The art style had a very dream-like quality to it, the colours all dark and texture sort of… messy? *Sigh* Anyway, the person in chains had tears streaming from her eyes, and no mouth. The chains lead upwards into puppet strings to those marionette-style crosses. It was good art, but knowing who was behind it, it really scared me. Especially since she hinted in her previous post that she might not see anything to live for. She felt so trapped and like she didn’t have a voice. So I thought it over, and I decided to message her words of encouragement. This was our first interaction. 

I told her that I loved looking at her art, and that it brought me a lot of joy when she came up on my dashboard. That I was half deaf, and although I couldn’t get the full picture, I got some of her struggle. I encouraged her that her art was already good enough for commissions without art school. 

I’m sure she got a lot of messages like mine, because she never responded directly. Instead, she posted this message on her blog the next day.

“Got a lot of messages

A ton of people messaged me to give me words of encouragement after my post yesterday. I’m sorry I worried everyone, I just needed an outlet to express myself, you know? But people also messaged me to tell me that I’m good enough already to do commissions without art school. I don’t think you’re right, but I’ll think about setting something up. My Dad probably won’t let me make a paypal, but maybe you can pay me in Steam games or something, idk?”

A little later, she reblogged the post and said: “Everyone sending me messages and words of encouragement, thank you! It really means a lot”

I was really happy that I reached out to her, and due to what she posted, It felt more or less like she was thanking me directly. By this point, I was invested in her struggle, and I made sure I’d always message her again if she needed me to. 

Alright, we’ve made it to the last post of the episode. It’s kind of exciting, because it’s the mark of a really good thing happening in Emmy’s life. It’s well deserved, and I remember being very happy for her whenever a post of this type came up. I don’t want to spoil it, but I guess the title kind of does that for me, *chuckle* It’s titled:

“I Think I Met Someone

I was playing a lot of Overwatch today, what else is new? LOL. It was the first comp game of the day, and we got Anubis. So I instalocked Mercy like I always do. Anyway, me and the Dva player, her name was EmeraldSkies, were wrecking face together. It was pretty great, actually! Obviously I wasn’t in voice chat, as that would be a whole lot of useless. People usually get mad at me for it, and try and force me to join, but she was chill about it. After the game ended (in a win for us, of course) I got a friend request from her, so I accepted. We ended up chatting for a bit, and then we ended up duoing for a while. I really liked playing with her, and she didn’t pressure me at all to join chat, even if my excuse for why I couldn’t was half assed. 

I had to go eat lunch after a while, I gave her my discord and she actually accepted! After I got back online, we talked for a bit, and it was really fun! Idk, she’s just so upbeat and seems so deep. Plus she’s totally not at all judgemental. I really really like her already, is that weird?”

See, I told you it would be exciting! I’m personally a big fan of instant connections. *Sigh* I’ve had a few really intense ones in my life, and they’re always something else. I choose to think of this interaction between her and EmeraldSkies as one of those instant connections, rather than Emmy jumping the gun about developing feelings. There’s just so many people in Overwatch at any given time that running into any given person is pretty rare. She doesn’t talk about it yet, but this may be the point where she starts to question whether or not she believes in fate. Though, I’m sure that’ll be something we talk about later on.

Thank you for listening to this episode of The Black Box Readings! Again, I have no idea what sort of reception the first episode received, since I’m recording this before it releases. I tried to match the energy of the first episode today, and I hope my personal rants mix well with the readings. Follow me on Twitter at TheCrookedGavel to stay up to date on this and other queer podcasts. Feel free to contact me there as well. This is An Capuano, signing off!

[mitchies-ptsd-diary-blog]

Stormy chores

Last night I read my Chevy Stevens Book last night because I could not sleep. I did not get for though. It was a great story as anything from Chevy Stevens, it was about a cult brain washing people, very fascinating. Jill says that her books are scary but I don’t find them scary. Maybe because I went through worse as a baby. I also had a fucked up dream about unicorns and Donald Trump. 🦄🤑😎

9:06 a.m My fuckung mother wanted me to some morning long chores. I said no and she blew up like an IED and ridiculing me. Telling me that I was going to do the chores weather I like it or not. I started to crying. I fucking hate her fucking guts. Then my illustrious father started to yell because he wanted to watch tv. That’s all he fucking does: watching the retarded TV. He is lazy why not give him shit. Right now I am having flashbacks and all I want to do is cry with sadness, hate and rage. I fucking hate chores. They are pure torture.and a big trigger. I wish they would understand that I fucking problems. No body understands. End of rant 😭🤢👿😠😡😤

9:46 a.m The top story was a rant. My parents love me. And I they are my pearls. I just fucking hate chores- not my parents. As you can tell I am calmer now. I was more pissed at myself than I was at my mom. I have a big mouth and I fucking hate house work my parents are the biggest grand pearls of my life. End of rant… yet again. 😭 I got my art work ready for posting and then I just posted art work in my Instagram that’s what calmed me down. Art is my therapy and my therapist. Fuck you ptsd. Which reminds me all the companies that manufacture fidget spinners like my fidget spinner art that I posted last night on Instagram. Take about strange. ✍🏽🤗🎨

10:00 a.m feeling like shit about my stupid mouth when it comes to chores. My PTSD infested brain is attached to my fucking tounge…causing me to get into trouble. My brain is also attached to my two middle fingers. I regret what I fucking said to my mom about the chore. End of apology. 😭 Dad was doing his fucking chores all morning and was cutting in to the pub time, making me even more miserable. I need my pop just as much my father but I think he has a severe case of OCD. So That’s where I get my OCD. I had to had to yell at him more than once throwing out my vocal cords. I even got my mom involved with making quit his chores for the day.I am sorry for this. You probably think I am a horrible person but I am not. I am socially awkward, even around my parents. This is because of my Asperger’s and my PTSD. And some people just don’t understand me or think I am mean and rude. Guess what I ain’t. Excuse the the grammar. 😋

11:05 a.m Finally made to the fucking pub. Now time to relax. Do I have to tell you more about the pub. It is to me: Islamic paradise. It’s my safe place second to my room. I like the pub because I can have fun and update my blog and eat up. The story about the pub is that my dad’s doctor told him to relax during the day- something that is difficult for him because he likes chores- and do nothing but relax with his family. I can see the doctor’s point of view. The pub is heaven. 😇

11:44 a.m I am watching soccer which is more action packed then what my parents watch: golf. I fell in love with soccer when my high school put on the FIFA World Cup and in that tournament was Saudi Arabia. So me and Tish would look at it during spare time and during lunch. I support Saudi Arabia in soccer. My favorite team. My parents: ( cricket sounds) Golf. I still have memories and dreams of my high school putting on the FIFA World Cup. One of my favorite memories.

12:22 p.m Got another fucking chore to do. Usually this one doesn’t bother me but with this morning’s events…. I don’t want to do it. Can’t a girl relax for fucking once. Allah, I hate chores with a passion. Maybe it is because I am still pissed off at everyone about this morning’s chore. I shouldn’t say I hate all chores it’s just when my parents have surprise when I am having my mothering fucking breakfast. That’s when I fucking hate chores. I would rather do my mother fucking art instead of crying all ducking day.

1:38 p.m Got the last of my washing into the washer and the first load in the dryer. God how I hate spring cleaning. But since the summer solstice, it should be called summer cleaning. It pisses me right the fuck off.

2:06 p.m Got all fucking chores done. Yay. But anything to be happy about is that I am getting severe thunder storm that I wanted for the past two weeks. They were always saying that we are getting a storm but we never got it. This time we got. Yo me one of summer’s treasures is a fucking good thunder storm. To me the louder, the flashier the better. And this is what I am getting right now.