#depression really just decided to hit me like a fucking TRAIN

[puddin-dear]

Me: Haha yeah! I’m doing so much better mentally now!

The massive pit of depression waiting ahead of me: So uhm.. about that

[phagodyke]

tried going to bed early bc ive just been sitting staring at the wall or my phone all afternoon but it's been 3 hours now and I can't stop crying. :(

[weebsinstash]

Ok so tmi (on the tmi blog lol) but the first day of my Cycle I had a dream that I had just given birth and I was holding my baby and I was goddamn euphoric even though the logical part of me was like “???? I am 22 and broke i CANNOT have a baby rn” and I woke up crying and called my friends like I WANNA HAVE A BAAAAAABYYYYY I WANT A BAAAAAAABYYYYYYYY so basically. Imagine. Miguel catches you in a moment of weakness. And he NEVER. FUCKING. FORGETS IT.

Oh wow girlie those period hormones grabbed you by the uterus and absolutely REFUSED to let go

NO BUT FOR REAL don't look at me but I've been thinking of a concerning number of ideas where it's like, "Reader suddenly realizes they may want a baby and is actually putting serious thought into it and Miguel finds out (bet your ass Peter B tells him, i can see him as a "well intentioned" platonic guardian/mentor figure who sells you out to Miguel the second he thinks you're doing something risky or he thinks it's for your own good) and Miguel starts making all these plans and preparations behind your back to have a baby with you" and obviously I like the extra juicy option of "he found out you got extremely depressed and tied your tubes or something because you either see no point in you having a kid/think it's too late, OR, Miguel was the only person you were looking at as a potential father and you either decide it wouldn't work out or he does something to hurt you and you lose trust in him" so like, the double whammy combo of him being hit with the news you basically walled off your fertility that he's kinda fantasizing about AND you blame him for it

You see him chokeslam Miles on the train and having all these serious anger and stress issues and you're like "hmmmm don't like that" and basically make the tubal ligation appointment that week (but, you know, he'll either interfere before you can actually get it or even reverse it later on)

Like. Ugh I'm not sure if I should go super into detail bc I feel like I want to put this scene in the YouTwo fic or in a different idea i have thats more centered around motherhood, but, picture he catches you in his monitor room one day after you've lost your home dimension, you're having a little more than just a small identity crisis, and he catches you having Lyla show you the model for your life, or what the algorithm had predicted your life was supposed to be like before your universe just magically poofed away. You're just staring at these holograms with tears running down your face and he occasionally catches you starting to reach out like you want to touch what you see. He comes to stop you because he already knows all too well where this could lead, you can't become tempted to break canon and go somewhere else, but you beg him to let you watch just a little longer

"I was supposed to get MARRIED! I was supposed to have a BABY! I was supposed to have a family!! It's not fair!!"

And he's in total agreement with you because, who even fucking knows why your universe suddenly destabilized and vanished. He sees you as this person who has so much promise and potential who had their destiny and future literally snatched away from them and now you're lost and confused on what you're supposed to do, like really he totally understands why you feel so aimless. But watching these holograms is like torturing yourself, and he goes to stop you when you just keep crying because this is basically sending you into a critical mental health episode

"Someone was supposed to fall in love with me... we were supposed to have a baby... would I have been a good mom? Would I have had a boy or a girl? Cant you at least let me find out what my daughter's name would have been?"

And it's like NOOOO you can't hit him with the daughter card, don't you see what you've DONE!!! Gets him right in the heart. Now he's got this massive soft spot for you, bigger than it already was anyways, and he can tell over time you're just really starting to, grieve the future you were supposed to have, falling into a depression. Peter B is hanging around with Mayday like he usually does as both men can tell you're really staring at his baby today and he offers to teach you how to hold her. you're standing there misty eyed twirling one of her little curls around your finger as her dad starts volunteering information to you, "you know she's about XYZ months old now, they aren't really talking yet at this age but they're really curious about their surroundings and--"

Miguel watches as you start talking about children and suddenly get this really really tortured expression and just say "it's not meant to happen" and or some combination of "it's too late for me" and gives him his baby back a little too quickly in typical "I am clearly leaving the room to go cry" fashion. Meanwhile Peter B is like 38 wondering why you think you're out of time or it's not supposed to happen

Miguel's working one day and Peter is trying to shove his phone in his face, "you know I think this is one of the BEST photos of Mayday I've ever taken, she's looking so cute here, you just GOTTA see it" and Pete just won't let up and Miguel finally looks just to humor him because the man is being unusually annoying and, it's a photo of Mayday, duh, but being held by you, and you're clearly looking down at her with watering eyes and the smallest little smile that says "I'll die for you" and Peter is just all 😏 as Miguel is 'suddenly' interested in the photo. "That's a really good photo of MAYDAY, right? 😏 I figured you would like it, that photo of MAYDAY 😏" and Miguel is just grumbling and grouchy bc he sees what this guy is tryna do, but he's still like ".... send it to me later, I'm trying to work right now"

It's even worse if you're a member of his strike force because you're constantly around him, Peter B, and Jess. Miguel just, idly wondering where you are and deciding to walk around a little bit and eventually finds that you're having some sort of conversation with Peter B and Jess and he can tell you look really weepy as the other woman invites you to feel her baby kicking, like, you could not more obviously be developing baby fever, and you ARE around that age, and ESPECIALLY if you live in Nueva York because it's like, YEAH you're still a Spider and YEAH you help the Society with stuff but. Your home universe is gone, your canon is gone, you're kind of. Free as a bird really? But you're also scared because, if someone was destined to love you, does that mean it technically isn't meant to be to fall for anyone else? You can't exactly hook up with people at the Spider Society because of canon or them already having relationships, and you don't exactly have identifying documents if you wanted to try and adopt

I think it'd really reach a stressful breaking point if you and the strike force go to another universe to fight an anomaly and Miguel catches you staring out into the crowd of people you just saved and he sees what youre looking at instantly and his heart sinks. Another you, another normal you, never bitten by a Spider, is standing there with her husband and her little sputtering baby, and he has to all but drag you away as you cry "it's not fair, it's not fair, why does SHE get a normal life!!"

Sidebar for a moment, I think that's probably also one thing that would be so INFURIATING about the doppelganger stealing your life story because THEY have a home universe and YOU don't. They take your life, they take literally everything you have left, your friends, your sense of community, your literal purpose. I've already decided on YTs motivations but could you imagine you finding out YouTwo actually has a decent life and maybe even a husband and kid of their own and you're just furious because they're basically abandoning their duties back home not only as a Spider but as a parent/spouse to steal what YOU have? You can't kill them because it would break their canon and kill like countless people but Miguel and the others would def let you beat the shit out of your evil double and get some of your anger out. Like. Jesus could you imagine Miguel kicks you out thinking you're the fake and after you're gone, YouTwo breaks canon and that's what exposes them, or theyre exposed when they eventually take a trip back home and get caught. The Society's regret, the guilt, the anger, just marinate me with the drama

But anyways back to Being Sad and Babycrazy, you go missing one day and Miguel has to decide what to do when he finally tracks your bracelet and you're back in THAT dimension again. He has to physically track you down using your bracelet's signal because you refuse to answer his messages and you're, in the home of the other you while she takes a brief nap, in the nursery, holding her baby. Miguel quietly climbs through the window and you're in a rocking chair and you've got her hugged to your chest and your eyes are closed and you sense him and, obviously cry because you know you have to leave. Unlike with the holograms he doesn't give you any leeway on this, putting his foot down that this has to end here, this cant go on, this is already so dangerous. And, you're good for him and understand, leaving the baby back in its crib as you and Miguel warp away. You're heartbroken but ultimately understanding when he has to disable your watch's ability to visit that specific dimension again, and you're obviously extremely depressed for a while, having multiple Spiders coming to check in on you as word spreads around that you aren't doing well

I can just see Reader becoming kind of desperate because the only options for a baby you really have left is to either 1. get a serious relationship, which you're scared of because you have to trust that person and who can you even pick, you're nervous about breaking canon or something, or 2. Get some random person to impregnate you so you can run off with the baby

Miguel gets a call from Peter B that you went to a bar and you're EXTREMELY wasted as you try to pick someone, ANYONE up and like, you have admirers for sure but there's enough decent people around to keep the creeps in line, clearly you are in a vulnerable state of mind right now, and Miguel gets to tote your drunken ass back home as you drunkenly word vomit all your feelings to him because, unfortunately for you, he has your trust, and you need comfort right now, and you even ask him about what being a parent was like for him. You encouragingly tell him he shouldn't give up if he still wants kids, you trying to be genuinely nice and not trying to imply anything, blubbering about how he deserves to still be happy and he's still got time, and here's Miguel who's practically tracking your cycles at this point, TOTALLY not going to use anything you say to him while you're piss-drunk against you

Especially if you add ABO into the mix and you have a Miguel who's either Alpha/Omega and is already babycrazy af and he sees you literally fucking YEARNING for it, like. You've got a 6'9" Alpha basically looking at you, his poor lil Omega crush, with the big yandere goo goo eyes and how you need all this love and support and stability and how you're in need of a proper husband and of course he's all too willing to volunteer himself for the job. Even if he's too awkward to come right out to you and say it, he'll be thinking in his head and planning behind your back ways to take care of you, keep you away from any drugs/alcohol (no more smoking weed with metro boomin Spiderman, you've gotta detox your body to have a baby! Also, different concept but, Miguel basically keeping you in a bubble to control all your meals and recreational activities and all of that so he can make sure you're perfectly healthy for a baby)

Don't let this man catch you slipping up! Throw you to the Spider Society and you'll come back pregnant 😭 he sees you so depressed and wanting a baby and it's like well, if your life needs new meaning, he can help literally make one for you 😏 he's been feeling protective and nurturing of you anyways, so, it's an extra benefit for him to think of getting to have both you AND a little baby of your very own ❤️

[everythingne]

KINTSUGI - AKIN TO A PRIDE VERSE - MV1

When brought to panic by ruthless reporters, Reina snaps and hits a reporter out of instinct. In desperation, Hana flies Max to London help her daughter out of a depressive episode caused by Reina thinking that she's more like her father than she ever wants to be. And Max realizes some things about who you call family.

warnings: reporters grabbing reina, mentioned rumors of domestic abuse, mentions of child abuse and past/current broken metacarpal (hand) bones (wow look at me being sciency?), many assumptions about max's childhood, reina has a whole break down, reminder this isn’t a romance series, also btw I changed reina's age to make her 20 (legit go back and look LOL) and that totally isn't something for silly foreshadowing purposes no no, my comeback after going to college LMAO

I'M FUCKING SCREWED. I'm so fucking screwed. I can feel the anxiety coursing through my arms as I stand there, my teammates off to my side as we try and fight through the media pen. We weren't even supposed to be here but Ollie Bearman had decided he was bored and dragged me and Kimi Antonelli along to see some other drivers by wandering along the pit lane. We were all pretty civil with one another, save for one or two weird rivalries here or there, so we were quick to amass a group that eventually Trident broke up when they needed Richard back.

And then media had shown up, and we'd gotten quickly swarmed with no real way out.

Luckily, Kimi had called someone from the paddock to come get us and help us out so as we slowly pushed through the crowd as politely as possible, someone was actively coming to us.

And then I had gotten split off.

"Ollie!" I shouted, trying to grab his attention, but my voice is lost among those of the reporters who chase after him. How theres so many reporters here, I have no idea. It's not normal. And then again, nothing about this season really was normal because of the whole siblings thing.

"Miss Matsumoto!" someone shouts and a camera is shoved in my face, I try to keep a calm composure, nodding sharply in greeting as I try to continue through the crowd, "How are you feeling about your race tonight?"

"I think I'll be alright," I nod, pulling the rim of my hat down a bit further, "My team has grown a bit with Max's personal trainer giving us some tips for my physical training and it's been really interesting seeing how just changing my diet and training has made drive different."

"How is your relationship with Max?" Someone else shouts and a smile happily crosses my face, okay, I can do this. Just keep talking and just keep pushing forward. Do what Max taught you.

"He's been incredible, a lot kinder than people give him credit for." I make sure to point that out as I walk. A few more questions about Max are tossed my way, what exactly he's been teaching me (how to train for Formula One specifically, different ways to keep my brain sharp, physical training adjustments, how to cope with the drastic difference between F2 and F1, which both Logan and Oscar had already told me about), if I've met Kelly and Penelope (I have, Penelope adores me for some reason), who I've met in Red Bull (Daniel, Max, Christian, Geri, a few engineers, some other drivers who now raced for other teams, and such.)

And then someone asks something that makes my stomach crawl, "Can you tell us why we haven't seen your father in the paddock this season even though his racing company is one of your main sponsors?"

"It's only the third race. I'm sure we'll see him in Sakura." I smile, trying to keep my voice level, but the reporters have found something to latch onto. I took too long to respond.

"How is your relationship with him been impacted since moving in with your mother?"

"The timezones make it hard to speak, but he is still my father, so," I shrug, trying now a bit more desperately to shove through the crowd. They're not letting me go. I can hear Kimi telling someone to move, his voice is sharp and annoyed, but the reporter doesn't listen.

"Is it true your father abused you?"

"What?" I gape, but reporters flash cameras and shove over each other to get to me. My reaction fuels them.

"Is Project Matsumoto a real thing, or just a mimic of Project Verstappen?"

I can't even recover from the last question as I gasp out, "I'm sorry?" I don't even know what they're referencing.

"Did Red Bull pick you to be Max's sibling due to your similar childhoods?"

I can't get words out now, the berating is on, and all I can do is try and back away. I can see Ollie waving a hand, trying to beckon me through the crowd, and now FIA officials are coming to move the reporters away. It's a mess of shoving and screaming, people in my face as they repeat themselves until their voices pitch to shouts and screams. I can't move through because any step I take is immediately countered by a shift in the tide of cameras and voices, blocking my path.

"Was your fathers attitude is Sakhir last year reflective of your childhood with him?" "How did your parents divorce effect your racing career?" "Is it hard to be living away from your Japanese roots?" "Why did your mother accuse your father of emotional and physical domestic abuse when they divorced?"

A reporter steps forward and grabs me and I rip back from him. Ollie's shoving a reporter to the side, trying to grab me before he's closed off by the ocean of people around me.

"Is the rumor of your fathers mistreatment of you true?" The man asks again, trying to grab me and I stumble back in a panic. My hat is pulled off by him instead, and I just let it go as I bring my arms to my stomach and wrap around myself.

"Please! Everyone, wait--!" I cry out, the obvious panic in my tone making my skin flame with embarrassment.

"Answer the question!" The same man shouts, shoving a reporter aside as raising his hand with his microphone. All I see is the raising of a fist in the shadow of my father, and my brain reacts before I can really think about what I'm about to do.

Crack!

I gasp as soon as I make the connection. It's hard. Max's training paying off well. Ollie's infront of me, grabbing my wrists and gently pulling me to the side until he can get me out of the crowd. Prema's around me in seconds, closing me off as I stare at my hands and feel the blood seeping across my knuckles.

I'm so screwed.

They get me into the paddock, voices over my head and slipping through my ears. I'm sat in my drivers room, Ollie and Kimi being peeled from my sides to go off and get ready for the race. I can't hear, can't think, a constant ringing ruining any conscious thought. My knuckle is split. My ring finger. I stare as one of the medics begins to clean up the wound.

Not even the sting can pull me from the thoughts racing through my head.

I hit someone. Struck a man out of fear. He had grabbed me, knocked my hat off, I had every reason to hit him. Yet, I had hit someone. I could hear my father's voice ringing in the back of my head, warnings of inheritance and passing down genetics I had shaken off to make myself feel better.

I was not my father. Never would be my father. I was so sure of that. Until today.

When the medic lets go of my hand and sets it on my lap, I feel fear strike my bones. And when René comes to get me, my silence is terrifying to everyone. I stand silent, straight faced, not even cracking a smile. The cameras watch me twice as much, I react a thousand times less.

Max is sitting on his bed, Penelope happily napping on his chest as he watches the pre-race bullshit for Reina. He had off today, oddly enough, and Kelly had gone out to do some sort of PR management event which left him to watch little Penelope. No problem at all.

The pre-race is what he's expecting, he can see Ollie dragging Reina and Kimi around and amassing a small group of F2 drivers outside of Trident. He laughs when Kimi hoists Reina into his arms, loudly announcing her by her nickname of Little Lion and making the rest of the boys cheer. What he isn't expecting is when they break up from the rest of the drivers to return to their paddock. Ollie's leading Kimi and Reina back when they get cut off by a mass of reporters. F2 hadn't been prepared for their usual amount of media to almost multiply by ten, and apparently it had been causing all sorts of issues.

Like this.

The questions are easy enough. He feels a weird swell of pride when he notices how easily Reina answers the reporters compared to before he'd started teaching her some media techniques.

And then the questions shift.

He can see Reina's panic after the first question, actually he sees it as soon as the word 'father' is brought up. He sits up a bit, gently readjusting Penelope as he turns the TV a bit louder. The camera swings away for a moment to show Ollie and Kimi pause when they realize Reina's not there, and their quick turn around before the camera swaps to show Reina.

She looks horrified. Max feels a burn in his chest as he sits up and leans forward, almost willing Ollie through the crowd. He can see multiple Prema people attempting to shove through, but every attempt is in vain. Nothing is working. It's a Sisyphean task.

Then the reporter tries to grab Reina and Max has to hold himself back from getting up and shouting at the TV. Not that it's gonna change anything. Reina steps back, and her eyes are darting around, trying to find a weak spot to escape. She can't, Max realizes, as the reporters close in.

The next thing he sees is her arm jut forward, a loud crack sounding over the speakers. His jaw drops, the sight of Reina hitting someone so foreign to him. Silence falls over the crowd as Ollie grabs her and pulls her away, someone else shouting for her to come on as Prema swarms her in a protective bubble. The feed cuts there and leaves Max on a cliff hanger for thirty minutes until they are just about to start the race. The anthem is playing. But, the Reina he sees on the screen is not his Reina.

She's silent, stone faced, frozen still and almost robotic. She moves soft as a dancer, but her gaze is sharper than an ice skaters blades. She wins, sure, but he can't get her haunted look out of his brain. She carries it even through her podium, not even able to smile when she hoists the trophy above her head.

The call from Hana the next day is expected. The invite to their flat in London is not.

"She just needs someone who understands what she's going through." Hana had pleaded on the phone, "I know it's wrong of me to say it, but you were treated a very similar way when you first got into F1 and especially when you started winning. You had a similar past, you both have similar struggles. She needs your help, Max.”

Max had wanted to suggest a therapist, a psychiatrist even, but he knew Reina would rather throw herself in front of a Le Mans car, probably the Porsche 936, than talk about her problems. Which left the question of if she would even talk to him.

But he tells Christian and Geri what's happening for a second opinion, and he is told he should go.

So he's on a flight to London three hours later, about a weeks worth of clothing packed haphazardly. He thinks he forgot a toothbrush and aftershave, but he doesn't care to check. After careful conversation, Hana had agreed to let him get a hotel close by, so he could give Reina space. Hana had been so certain Reina needed him, but Max wasn't even sure if Hana had tried to reach out to her daughter herself. Apparently Reina wasn't eating, doing her training, or even the sim. She had been in bed except for when she was forced out, and luckily there was a bit longer break than usual, it gave Max time.

He gets to the flat around eleven in the morning, twirling the keys of his rental car in his hand. He tells Hana he's coming inside and she gives him the code to the lobby and to the flat. The second one isn't needed, the woman is waiting for him in the hall.

“Thank you so much for coming out here.” Hana sighs when she sees Max and he’s shocked to see the usually classy woman in such a disheveled state, he gives her a hug in greeting but allows her to ramble through it.

“I’m sorry that I’m such a mess, I just—Reina hasn’t done this in so long it’s genuinely frightening to see it again.” Hana wipes her face, sniffling as she shakes her hands to sort of shake it off, “I’ve been trying to get her to do anything and she just won’t, she’s usually twice as active after a race, not sedimentary! I don’t know what to do—“

Max cuts off her rambling with a soft, “Hey, relax. You’ve done all you can. You go and take care of yourself, I’ll talk to Reina.”

It must be what Hana needs to hear (it’s something he’d been told by his mom when comforting Victoria growing up) because Hana barrels into his chest in a hug, thanking him probably thirty times in a row before stepping back and letting him in.

The apartment is gorgeous, Max can’t lie. It’s got big windows and tons of natural lighting, bright bold colors in decorations he’s sure Reina picked out. Which, he guesses, makes sense, because it will become her apartment soon. Hana points him in the direction of Reina’s room, but seems so genuinely distraught she can’t go near.

And this is where he’s stepping off the dock.

He hesitates to knock, but does eventually. It’s soft enough he’s sure Reina won’t hear it, but then he hears the most broken, teary and bitter, “what?” from the other side of the door.

“It’s Max.” He presses his hand to the handle, eyes staring through the wood as he leans in to the door itself, almost as if trying to see Reina through it, “can I come in?”

There’s a long enough pause he thinks she’ll say no. But theres a soft, "okay."

He pushes the door open to the darkness of Reina's room. One Himalayan salt lamp is on in the corner, providing a slightly warm glow to the room. The blinds are drawn tight, blackout curtains hastily thrown over them, and Reina's head is the only part of her body that's visible under her mass of blankets. Her room isn't quite messy, just cluttered with partially empty water bottles and a plate of cold breakfast. He remembers this. The shutting yourself off part of this all, of being raised like they had. Or, the lack thereof.

"Mornin'." He says simply, walking over to sit on the edge of her bed. Reina blinks a few times, like she can't even believe Max is there, and slowly sits up.

"Why are you here?" Her voice is groggy but not in the sense of just waking up, it sounds more like shes been sobbing for hours. A claim backed up by the redness of her swollen eyes and sniffly nose.

"Your mom called." He doesn't sugarcoat, never has, "I saw the punch. What did the FIA give you for that?"

“Five second penalty. Kimi was behind by six. Didn’t matter.” She grumbled, looking over at him from where she’s bundled up. She looks miserable, and though Max knows he’s started to crack through to get her to talk, he needs to keep trying.

“Did they fix your brakes?” Max asks and Reina nods, then sits up and sighs.

“I know you didn't fly all the way from Monaco to London for small talk. What’s wrong?” She asks, scrubbing at her red cheeks as she crosses her legs and grabs a large plush Hello Kitty and buries her face in it.

“Your mom said you’re not handling it well,” Max hums, leaning back on his hand and looking over at Reina as she curls a little bit tighter around her plushie.

“I hit someone.” She whines, “I hit him.”

“He grabbed you.” Max says, looking over at Reina and letting out a tiny non-committal hum, “the reason the FIA gave you such a little punishment is because it’s self defense.”

“But Max, I hit him.” Reina emphasized and Max blinked. What the fuck was she getting at here? His confusion must be all over his face because she shifts slightly closer and he can see where she'd split one of her knuckles open. Hana hold told him the finger was technically broken, but Reina refused to wear her brace on it. Something about having already worn one in the past. Not that Max would know. But when Reina goes to ball her hand into a fist, he notes her pinkie and ring finger don't close. Daniel's injury rings in his mind for a second, but he shoves the thought away as Reina continues to repeat herself, more broken, more panicked.

“Reina," Max attempts to soothe her, scooting a a bit closer to place a hand on hers, hiding the injury from her sight, "what are you getting at here?"

"I..." She stammers, eyes darting around his face, and then she huffs out a question he's not expecting, "Are you afraid of being like your father?"

Max blinks. The silence encompassing the room for a long while before he sighs out a soft, "Yeah, terrified."

"Me too." Reina nods, flexing her hand again. Max watches the way her eyes dart down to her injury and he realizes she's trying to cue him in. It's like a puzzle, and he has to put together the pieces to get the picture. She doesn't say anything next, leaving Max to figure it out himself, so he just watches Reina.

She's fidgety, fingers tapping along her injured hand, but he notes she keeps poking her pinkie. She'd injured her right ring finger, not the pinkie, so he's not sure what she's trying to do. She's not concerned over her current injury, but the past one. His eyes trail along her clothing, her mothers old NASCAR jersey, the rest of her hidden under mass amounts of fuzzy blankets. Her hair is braided back, greasy, and knotted, her skin is dull but still clear save for one or two pimples in her hairline. She wasn't taking care of herself, he could see that, it was a classic depressive episode.

Max meets her eyes and sees shes trying to pick him apart too.

But why? What did she need to know? Max was pretty open with her, he'd told her more than he told most people. Geri had encouraged it, hell she'd even asked if she could tell Hana some stuff from when he first got to Red Bull. The first time he'd snapped at Christian, expecting to be shouted back at, but was shocked at his calm tone. The first Christmas, when he had no one to go to, and Christian invited him to their home and though Max was slightly out of place he'd stolen the attention of the kids in a heartbeat. That was the day he'd become almost like a fifth kid to the Horners. Geri had asked if he was comfortable talking about his childhood with Hana, and he had, though it was a difficult conversation. She'd asked wonderful questions about healing and growing up and moving on, asked how much moving to Monaco and being on his own at eighteen had helped. Being on his own was freeing, he'd said that much, and though he kept some parts out he knew Hana could piece it together.

Hold on.

Max had snapped because he thought Christian would be like Jos when he'd failed to overtake on a turn.

Max hadn't had anywhere to go that Christmas because it was the first time he was celebrating without any family in the same home.

Max became an unofficial Horner because his own familial issues.

Max had moved to Monaco to get away from his father.

Reina was afraid to be like her father.

Reina was always looking to Max for validation, even with how short they had known each other.

Reina's injury, from what little Max knew, was caused after she had crashed out of a race--in heer drivers room. The last time she'd seen her dad after she'd left their house in Fukushima.

Shit.

"Reina." Max starts, not sure if he even knows how to approach this. He'd been the messy one, the one to snap, the one to shout, the one to lash out. It was evident of an 'avoidant attachment style' from his childhood or whatever the hell that meant, therapists always confused him with technicalities. Max wasn't gentle, he wasn't soft like this, he was hard edges and half-broken promises. How does one avoid their own sharp edges when trying to handle something so soft? How can Max be sure he won't break Reina?

"What happened to your pinkie?" He asks, gently prodding the knuckle with his own. Reina meets his eyes. He can't find her in her own gaze.

"Boxer's fracture." She murmurs, "Like Daniel's."

"I know that, but how did it happen?" He pushes and when Reina freezes up, he whispers, "Listen, it's just us right now. I'm gonna keep you safe, yeah? Like a real brother would."

Max had enough experience protecting Victoria.

"My dad." Reina starts, then swallows and closes her eyes. She leans forward, seeking out Max, and he moves so she can rest her head on his shoulder, staring down at her hands covered by his, "Last year, when I crashed out towards the end of the season. I was living with my mom by then, so I never really saw him. I didn't even know he was at the race. I got to my drivers room and we got in an argument. My mom tried to split us up and he slapped her so hard she fell over. I pushed him to get him to leave her alone and..."

Reina struggles to find the words and whatever she had gone through is a thousand times worse than Max could've ever expected.

"He grabbed me by the wrist, I grabbed a door to get away and he slammed it on my hand. Broke my metacarpal in two places, I needed surgery, so I never finished the season. Finished thirteenth."

Max is still. So still he's not even sure he's still breathing. Reina sniffles, and Max feels her tears hit the back of his hand.

"You don't wanna wear the brace because it takes you back." He says and Reina just lets out a soft hum. He doesn't know what to do. So, he does what Geri had done the few times she'd had to comfort him. One arm around her shoulders, the other on her head, and he pulls her taught to his chest to cradle her there.

The sob she lets out shatters his heart and he tries to pull her impossibly closer. They're flush to one another, theres no more space to close, but he still tries as Reina breaks and shatters in his hands like fine china. He attempts to piece her back together but there's not enough of him intact to repair her. Max, for his benefit, has dealt with Penelope's tired melt downs and so he gives Reina a waterbottle and wipes her tears, lays her down admist her blankets and tucks her in tightly. He sits on the floor by her face, running his fingers through her hair as best he can, gently running his thumb along her shoulder.

He can tell shes not just crying because she'd hit someone, but theres more to it. And an hour or so later, when the tears subside, she finally opens her heart to him.

"I hate my dad." She whispers after maybe five minutes of silence, no longer broken by her sniffles.

"I do too." Hate his dad? Hate hers? He's not sure. But he stands up to open her curtains and blinds, hands itching to do something rather than just sit silent. The noon sun warms the room almost instantly, and Reina lifts her head to shift into the sun. He turns and speaks as he bends down to pick up a stray bottle, "Why do you hate him?"

"Just... everything he put me and my mom through." Reina sighs, "There's a lot he did I can never forgive him for."

"What did he do?" Max sits down again and Reina reaches out to his hand, which he obliges, and she pokes at his fingers.

"When I was growing up, I started karting in Japan with my father. He wanted me to race rally cars since I was born, even with his obvious disappointment I wasn’t a son. I competed for the first time on my fifth birthday, and won. I got scouted that day and my dad completely changed. It went from a little hobby I could have to a future career, especially when my mother learned she was infertile after my birth." Reina speaks monotonously, eyes distant as she recalls, and though Max has read up on her past he knows he's getting a new raw look at her life.

"My dad finally got me in rally when I was ten, a year before the divorce. I did it for three years. The worst three years of my life." Reina shifts so she's laying on her back, looking up at the ceiling and avoiding Max's eyes, "everything that my father had just simply said became physical. Every single time I made a mistake, I was hit. Every time I talked back, ignored him, walked away, did anything he deemed to be incorrect, I was hit. Sometimes just a whack to the back of my head in annoyance, most of the time closed fists. The only thing I was allowed to do was race, extracurriculars, and school. And that includes sleeping, eating, showering, and such."

"On my thirteenth birthday, my mom came to visit us in Japan for a race I had in Fukushima. I finished second because of some dirty play and my dad was so angry at the company for not catching that, he took it out on me completely. My mom and her boyfriend at the time saw the entire thing, a huge fight broke out, the cops got called, it was a whole thing.

"My mom sued my dad for only my custody, no payment, nothing. And he dug his own hole, the court found out he was spending all the money my mom sent for me on himself, I had saved years of evidence... my mom ended up getting full custody without a challenge, and a payment that amounted to all her payments of child support and then two years worth of payments of my fathers child support in advance. That all happened around the time I switched to Formula racing. The entire time I've been racing Formula I've been living with my mom and my dad has been sending child support."

"When he got... aggressive with you, was it always physical?" Max hums and Reina shakes her head. Max slowly starts to undo one of the braids to redo it, trying to ignore the greasy feeling on his hands, and she leans into his touch so much he has to pause as he feels her face rest against his arm.

"No, it was just shouting until I got into rally and then every once and a while he’d hit me. And the most he did before I got into rally was slap me once when I was like, six? But it was mostly just him ignoring me or screaming at me, or making me race to exhaustion." Reina sighs as she then rolls to curl up against his side and Max adjusts so that he's half laying down with Reina curled up on his chest. It's similar to the way he'd gotten the youngest Horner kids to sleep when he'd visit or babysit over the years.

"My father is one of the worst people on the planet," Reina stares out the window. Max hums non-committedly, moving a little bit closer as Reina speaks in the most dead tone he's ever heard as she says, "and I have always been his favorite punching bag."

"I was my father's favorite too." Max admits and Reina nods.

"What was he like?"

"Just a lot more manipulative and way less physical. A lot of it was just him ignoring me, leaving me places, shouting at me, pressuring me. A lot of manipulation when I'd call him out on it." Max hums, finding the braid he'd half undone to fully pull it out. Reina grabs a brush off her nightstand and hands it to him so he can start to brush out her hair. It's weirdly remnant of Victoria and Penelope. Reina hums and as Max brushes out her hair, he feels the way her body relaxes.

“So did you pick me or did Red Bull?” Reina asks maybe five minutes later and Max hums, fingers finding loops of her hair to slowly braid it again. Practically hearing Geri’s voice instructing him on how to braid because it was ‘something good to know for Penelope.’ He was glad he had listened to her. It was a good thing to know.

“They told me I was gonna train you, then told me I was gonna train Ollie.” Max hums, “Ollie’s great but… I dunno. I just knew I should mentor you. Call it divine intervention but I knew.”

“Im glad you chose me.” Reina murmurs against the fabric of his hoodie and he realizes how odd this moment is. He’d packed up in thirty minutes, gotten on a two hour flight, and spent an hour coaxing his mentees trauma out so he can help her. He could’ve just said he was busy, and yet he’d already given so much of his heart to Hana and Reina he knew he couldn’t just abandon them. Reina needed him just as much as he needed her.

"I'm glad I did too. And... listen, Rei, you hitting this guy because he scared you doesn't make you an abuser." Max watches as Reina picks her head up, resting her chin on his sternum to watch him, "and Reina, you being afraid of being like your father tells me you will never be."

"But I just... I hit someone like he hit me and it was just an echo. He always told me I would grow up to be like him." Reina closes her eyes and Max takes a hand to cup her face, running his thumb along her wet undereyes.

"But you hit out of fear, not out of anger or with the intention of abusing someone, thats the thing that will never make you like him."

Reina nods, and Max knows it'll probably take him the whole week to convince her of that. But, as Reina lays her head back down with a soft thank you, he feels like he's done enough. Only twenty four hours ago he had Penelope sleeping on his chest. Now Reina’s in the same spot, her hand reaching out to cup the setting sun with her injured hand.

“Kintsugi.” She says softly, then sits up. Max watches her, head tilting as she moves to her closet and swings the door open. Grabbing a stool, she clambers up to the top shelf and starts rustling around. From his vantage point on the bed, Max can see deep scars running the inside of her leg and wonders briefly where they’re from before Reina settled back in front of him on the couch. She sees him looking and swallows, digging something out of a box from her closet.

“Also from my dad.” She says, eyes flickering up, “same day my mom was in Fukushima.”

“Ah.” Max nods, and lets Reina continue to rustle. He wants to ask questions, but he’s curious as to what she’s doing. She sets down her brace and a thing of gold paint and hands a brush to him.

“What is this?”

“Okay. It’s kinda stupid because this is no where close to what you’re supposed to do, but hear me out,” Reina raises her hands in defense. Max let’s her have the floor, he’s not gonna judge her.

“Kintsugi, it’s a Japanese art of repairing broken pottery or dishes or whatever with urushi lacquer mixed with powered gold or whatever and I don’t have lacquer and this isn’t technically broken but!” Reina pauses her rambling, chews her lip, and looks away from Max and to the window, “When I had my first hand brace, my Jiji—my grandmother, she painted it with this beautiful gold design. She told me it was my kintsugi. That I was broken, and that she was mending me. And… she’s always been my biggest support. Besides my mom, Jiji sacrificed so much for me, almost all her salary went to helping me get into F4 because my dad stopped helping me pay for racing until he started sponsoring me last year. And… Kintsugi is our thing. If she breaks anything she waits for me to fix it.”

There’s something hanging here, something so vulnerable, so Max asks with plenty of pause to show his trepidation, “Why did you give me the brush, then? Where’s Jiji?”

“In Washington.” Reina hums, “And… you… you��re a really big supporter to me. And you mean a lot to me, Max. I’ve only known you for half a year now but… you’ve helped me with a lot. And you sacrifice a lot for me. You flew all the way here to help me because my Mom asked. And don’t think Christian didn’t tell me about you trying to anonymously sponsor me.”

Max laughs softly, “Guilty as charged.”

“I want you to paint something on it. Anything. I have a—“ Reina starts to dig again, “a gold marker too. I do this all the time with things I break—like my phone cases or my hair ties. This is a whole bin of knockoff Kintsugi.”

She hands Max the marker and then rolls off to the side to curl back into her blankets, but rests her head on his thigh. Max sits and stares at the brace in his hand, rolling it around in his grasp as he thinks of what to write. There’s about a thousand things that ring through his head, and none he can settle on.

And then he gets an idea.

While Reina watches him focus, the golden light of the sun haloing him, she wonders briefly if she’s found her own form of Kintsugi in him. Sure they weren’t perfect, and both deeply troubled in their own right, traumas rooted deep within them, but they had each other and that was what they needed.

And Max knew he found Kintsugi in Reina.

Reina sits up when Max hands her the brace back, making an odd face when she sees its written in Dutch.

“laat u niet definiëren door uw naam. Do not be defined by your name.” Max says simply, and Reina looks up at him and tears prick in her eyes immediately. When Max helps her put it on, he adds a bit more gold flare to the boring black brace and smiles.

“Now you can wear it, yeah?” he says, and Reina leans up to wrap her arms taught around him. He laughs softly and hugs her back, letting her bury her face in the side of his neck.

If she sobs, he doesn’t comment, just lets her lay there until she’s run dry.

A week later, Max is unpacking in Monaco when he notices something new in his bag. He finds a small little keychain, a little blue ribbon tied to a clasp he knows he can snag on his keys. It’s in Japanese, but the note attached makes him smile a little watery smile.

‘Max,

Thank you. That’s all I can say. For everything you were supposed to help me with, and everything you chose to do on your own. I hope I can return the favor.

Reina.

ps. it says ‘do not be defined by your name.’ just like my brace,’

The keychain hangs off the zipper of his work jacket instead. And if anyone asks—and Yuki is the first to ask the meaning since he knows what it actually says, he simply smiles and says it’s a gift. No other explanation needed.

Except for when Geri asks, and he tells her the whole story, and then Christian ‘yells’ at him for making Geri cry.

reinamatsumoto made a new post!

liked by gerihorner, logansargeant, maxverstappen, and 458k others...

reinamatsumoto: [come back soon, big brother]!!

viewing translation from japanese

tagged: maxverstappen

misshanatanaka: [so sweet! glad having him by helped sweetheart!!]

user1: CAPTOIN HAS ME IN FUCKING TEARS

user2: MAX IS HER BROTHER !!!!!!

logansargeant: did our sushi date meaning NOTHING.

⤷ reinamatsumoto: GOD YOU WANT A POST FOR FUCKING SUSHI??

⤷ logansargeant: YES?

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⤷ reinamatsumoto: fine. anything for my favorite white boys.

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user3: CRYING OVER HER CALLING MAX HER BROTHER. OH. IM SO NOT WELL.

user4: so are we gonna talk ab her punching a reporter? bc shes hot for that.

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⤷ reinamatsumoto: thanks mom!!!

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[v3nusxsky]

Insecurities 18+

*Authors note~ inspired by a TikTok audio and my own thoughts about myself, it's important to remember that everyone is different and that's a good thing. You're exactly how you need to be*

Trigger warnings~ insecure depressive thoughts daddy Nat g!p Nat usual mission things smuttt is all I got here

Prompt~ Team go on a mission, r would get like kicked in the chest or something just to make her boobs hurt and she'd say on the ride home "man my boobs hurt so much after that mission" where Nat hits back with "what boobs?" So r like laughs sarcastic and goes "ahaha fuck you"

It was really a simple mission, a simple sneak in and retrieve some of the updated super solider serum and get the heck out of there. You all knew it would be heavily guarded, that's why you, Natasha, Wanda and Yelena were sent in this one. You sat next to your girlfriend and in front of Wands while Lena opted to be the pilot of the Quinjet. In between some basic things about the mission and general chat you all arrived at the secure location.

Wanda and Yelena immediately taking control of the soldiers while you and Natasha snuck through and into the narrow halls. Dating a Russian Assassin definitely has its perks, her ability to get into rooms undetected was something you admired, although you could've used magic and drawn attention to yourself you definitely couldn't pick a lock or hack into the Hydra systems like she could. Your main job was to cover her back, make sure no one would be able to stop her. You even noticed her backing up information onto a hard drive. Smart.

A quick glance back at the redhead resulted in her quipping back "stop looking at my ass Y/n." But you didn't get a chance to reply to her as a guard delivered a hard kick to your sternum. A surprise yelp of pain alerted Nat and you both fought the guards off before taking the drive and information you'd secured and left. Yelena held the doors open for all three of you to jump in before she sped off in the Quinjet.

You slumped on the seat, a hand holding your chest as you breathed slowly in and out. Wanda noticing your pained thoughts, decided to check in on you. "Are you okay mini me?" Natasha seemed curious to what you'd say, after all she knew how much you hated admitting an injury. "I'm fine wands, just man my boobs hurt so much after that mission" you chuckled slightly. Wanda seemed to nod in understanding where as Natasha hit back with, "what boobs?" Yelena burst out laughing at your lovers reply, neither realising that had upset you. "Hahahaha fuck you" you replied sarcastically before taking yourself off to the far back corner. There you curled yourself up in a ball and attempted to sleep the flight away. The only problem was Wanda could see your thoughts were active but out of respect for you she choose not to interfere.

Arriving at the compound, you were the first one off the Quinjet and making your way to your shared room with Natasha. You knew you'd be alone, after all she always went straight to the training room to blow off some steam. You however, prefer to shower the mission away, the mindset of a clean body would be a clean slate. But instead of it calming you and clearing your mind you felt this overwhelming cloud of negativity. You were strong enough to beat them just enough to allow you to complete shower and wrap a towel around yourself.

Nat then joined you in the room to grab shower supplies and go to shower, once again leaving you well and truly alone. That's when you surrendered your mind to the thoughts. Standing in front of your full length body mirror. Instantly all you could see is the imperfections of your body. Which seemed to outweigh any positive thoughts by a ton. Your boobs felt too flat, your skin the wrong shade, your hair to straw like, your arms too thin and your thighs too thick. Hell, even your eyes seem to dull and cloudy like for you. You didn't even realise tears were flowing freely as silent sobs wracked your frame. What a sorry state for you to be in. It's not one you'd normally allow yourself to get to but Tasha had really hurt you, let alone Yelena agreeing.

Natasha didn't mean to hurt you, to her you are the most beautiful woman in the world, so perfect and pure and most definitely too good for her. A statue made by the goddess of lust herself is how Nat sees you. If only you could see yourself in the same light, but right now, all you could think and feel was disgust at yourself and your body. And if you were left just long enough you were sure it would've gotten deeper, but if there's one thing Natasha was famous for it would be routines. She always took the same amount of time and normally you'd be with it enough to notice, but not today.

"детка" she called out to you, effectively breaking the haze. Your head snapped towards the offending red head, tears trailing down your cheeks as you sat there naked being taunted by your reflection. "дорогая what is going on, who do I need to kill?" She murmured moving closer to you only for you to flinch away from her and grab your towel, "nothing Nattie, m'Kay" you sniffled. "No no детка, you're crying naked, that's not okay."

"I'm just so ugly! My thighs are too big, my arms are too small and even you don't think my boobs are even too small!" You sobbed curling into yourself. "ебать!, детка, no. No, I love your body детка I really do. моя любовь you're absolutely perfect in every way. I spoke without thinking and for that I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you моя любовь." She murmured over and over until you let her hold you. From their you just cried it out in her arms.

"детка, let me show you how beautiful you truly our my love" she whispered kissing the crown of your head as you nodded silently. "Lay back моя любовь" she commanded and you did so instantly, yet trying to hold your towel to your body. "None of that красивый дорогая, you are absolutely stunning" she whispered before kissing the tear tacks stained on your cheeks. From there her lips trailed over your facial features and down the column of your neck. Words of praised murmured against the soft skin there.

Only when you seemed to be feeling better did she allow her lips to travel south, all down the length of your body, every inch of skin kissed and caressed softly. Only when her lips had finished their work did she ask you to flip over. Your shoulders were so tense she couldn't help but spend the amount of time it would take for you to relax enough there. Once again she whispered words of praise to you.

"Daddy" you whimpered, the raw intimate emotions overflowing now, leaving you bare in every sense of the word. "Тсс, моя милая девочка, папочка позаботится о тебе, котенок" her thick Russian accent doing wonders for you. After all she knew how much it made you feel good when she complements you in her native tongue. "мой милый котенок" she murmured before bringing her slender fingers to play with your pretty little clit. Her actions teasing but doing enough to bring you to the path of pleasure. "No daddy, more please want you, show me you mean it" you whined.

Showing you was exactly what she did, her hard cock slipped into your folds as her mouth trailed from your lips to your breasts. There she marked each and every inch of the soft skin, it was clear she wouldn't stop till she'd showered each breast with the same amount of attention as the other. Her thrusts slow and meaningful as she attempted to poor all her love and adoration for you into her actions. "мой, все мое" she murmured against your skin as she brought a hand in between your bodies to play with your sensitive clit.

"Gonna cum for me котенок?" She purred as her thrusts began to hit your G-spot over and over again, "yes yes daddy! Yes, please please make me" you mewled for her. "Go on, cum love" she whispered sucking harshly on the sensitive skin of your right breast. "Oh my god! Fuck" you squealed as your orgasm flooded her dick causing Nat to bite back a grown and pull from your fluttering hole to spurt cum all over your chest. Her thigh helping you ride your high while she stroked herself down from her own high. "You look beautiful babe, all painted white for daddy. A good girl for me."  From there she cleaned you up and you both got settled down in the bed where Nat spent the rest of the night loving on you and making you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

Word count~ 1544

[absolutewhore101]

Sad Beautiful Tragic - Chapter 7

A/N: make sure you don't miss chapter 6!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Listen to 'Sad Beautiful Tragic' by Taylor Swift

Warnings: Stage 4 - depression (continued)

Word Count: 1.3K

Chapter 6 / Chapter 8

MINORS DNI

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are they still talking about me?” You asked Tommy. 

He shook his head. 

“I had a talk with the, uh, problem. Everybody shut up pretty quickly after that.” He told you.

You nodded. 

“‘Sides, there's some new folks in town that’s got everyone's attention.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. 

“How long ago did they get here?” You asked, trying to determine if they’d possibly heard about you yet. 

“Two days. Still settling in.” He responded. 

On the bright side, they probably had no idea who you were. Thankfully. 

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, any residual tension fleeing the room. 

“I really am thankful that you’re here.” You spoke. 

Tommy turned to face you, regret filling his eyes. 

“Yeah, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about everything for a while. ‘Spose I can’t be too surprised you wanted nothing to do with me for damn near a month.” He chuckled. 

You smiled, grateful that you still had some kind of a friend in this whole shitshow. 

“It wasn’t just you. I mean, you were definitely one of the reasons I shut myself inside for so long, but it wasn’t just you. It was everything. Joel, Carly, everyone in town… People I used to call friends and family were celebrating Joel like he hadn’t ripped my heart out.”

Tommy nodded, eyes trained on you.

“I just- I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to. I never thought that there’d be a world where it wasn’t me and Joel. It was always supposed to be us. He was the love of my life, maybe even still is.” You trailed off, picking at lint on your shirt. 

“I get it.” He said. “The shit that the two of you went through to get here… Hell, I thought it’d be two of you ‘til the apocalypse finally took the world.”

You smiled sadly at him. “But it won’t be.”

Tommy shook his head. 

“And I know I sound like an ass saying it, but maybe that’s for the best.”

The words shook you to your core. But you knew he was right. If Joel could do this to you, what else would he have done?

“No, you’re right. It just fucking hurts to hear. But I don’t get it. How could he do this to me? Why would he do this to me?”

It sounded to yourself like you were begging, even if you knew Tommy couldn’t do anything to help you. 

Tommy shook his head, unsure of how to comfort you right now. 

“Look, I came here for a reason. I want to apologize.” Tommy paused, trying to find the words to articulate how he was feeling. “The way I treated you - even if it wasn’t outright - was unacceptable. I guess I just couldn’t believe that Joel would do that to you, either. But that ain’t an excuse. I shoulda told you the second I knew something was goin’ on. You didn’t deserve that.”

You nodded your head, giving Tommy a small smile. 

“Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate that, truly.”

Tommy nodded back at you. “Well, I should probably get going. Jus’ wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You watched him stand, waving goodbye as he walked out the door. 

Your body was suddenly filled with energy, taken over by the need to do something. You decided that cleaning was exactly what you needed. 

You started in the living room, straightening the furniture and dusting every surface you came across. 

The entire house was spotless by the time the sun came up, and you were in desperate need of a shower. 

You took your time, letting the hot water run down your back, knowing that you didn’t need to save any for Joel anymore. Tears almost leaked out of your eyes, but you let the shower hit your face, washing them away. 

You walked into your bedroom, looking at Joel’s side of the room that you’d refused to clean. You decided it was finally time to tackle it. 

You picked up any of Joel’s clothes that he’d left behind and shoved them into the closet, thinking about when you could return them to their rightful owner. 

The bed was made and the side table dusted, and then you decided it was probably time to clean it out. 

You went through the top drawer, cleaning out bullets, knives, and other odd bits Joel kept by his side at night. You scoffed at the drawing you’d done for him just a few months before you made it to Jackson. It was a poor rendering of Joel sleeping against a tree, but he’d thought it was the greatest piece of art that’d ever graced the Earth. 

You threw it away without a second thought. 

The second drawer held nothing but another piece of paper, addressed to you. 

Your heart stopped at the sight of it, unsure if you were ready to read its contents.

Y/N,

I’m sorry. I know by the time you read this that I’m gone. And I just want you to know that I didn’t think this would ever happen. That I’d fall out of love for you. And I wish I could sit here and say it was your fault, but it wasn’t. Not even a little bit. You were perfect. Are perfect. We just don’t fit together anymore. Not like we used to. The kindness you showed me, the love you treated me with - I could never thank you enough for that. The months that we spent together were some of the best of my life, and I’ll never forget them, or you. You were probably the love of my life, and I would’ve asked you to marry me if it wasn’t for Carly. I can’t even say that she’s better than you, because she ain’t. But when things with us started getting hard, things with her got easy. And easy was what I wanted. Suppose I could’ve talked to you about it instead of doing what I did, but here we are. I’m sorry, darling. I never wanted us to end. 

Joel

Tears were streaming down your face, and sobs were breaking out of your throat. 

Words only meant so much when they were so late. If he would’ve talked to you about it like he’d mentioned, maybe you’d still have him. 

But how long would you sit here, waiting for yourself to realize that you deserve better? Would it be longer than your wait for him to come back for you?

You thought about the dreams you’d had recently, meeting him in warm conversation in the only bar in Jackson, hands entwined over the table. 

But you’d always wake up alone, in a different bed than the man you once loved. 

And time had never taken longer to take the memory of something. There were things from just a few months ago you couldn’t recall anymore, like the way his eyes shone as he looked at you, or the way his face lit up as he watched you walk into the bedroom every night. 

But time was taking its sweet time erasing the memory of him completely. Of the things that he’d done, the things he was still doing. 

It was like he was haunting you, even if he wasn’t truly dead. You were stuck in the remains of a relationship that you’d watched crumble in your hands. 

Your chest started constricting, pain filling your entire body as the heartbreak finally made itself known. 

A scream broke out of you, echoing off the walls and bouncing back into your ears. 

The front door burst open, loud footsteps coming up the stairs drawing your eyes towards the door. 

Part of you hoped it was Joel, but all of you knew that it wasn’t. 

When the door to your bedroom opened, it was Tommy standing there, chest heaving with the exertion of running up the stairs. 

“What happened?” He asked, taking in your heaving sobs as you laid crumpled on the floor. 

You just shook your head, willing yourself to get it together, but it was no use. 

You had finally broken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[clementine-side-blog]

Everlong - E.N

Summary: Edward Nashton visits his lover.

Content Warning: Explicit language, GN!Reader, they/them pronouns, lots of angst, autistic!Edward (so basically normal Edward), autistic!Reader, thoughts of suicide, this is depressing why tf did I write this...

Word Count: 2.2k

Song For Inspo:

Everlong - Foo Fighters (long live Dave Grohl my pookie bear)

~Read Below Cut~

~

Edward sat on the damp grass, not caring about getting the seat of his pants wet. His back was hunched over, a result of him having poor posture. It was a cloudy day in Gotham City, and it showed signs of rain, much to Edward's dismay. He wanted it to be sunny. Not necessarily for himself, but for y/n. For some reason, he thought that if it was sunny, it might keep them warm. It can't be too comfortable in the ground. At least he was able to bury them with one of their favorite blankets. Hopefully that was keeping them nice and cozy down there, and preventing them from getting cold. Edward let out a soft sigh, picking at the verdant blades of grass below him.

"I never got that promotion at work, angel. I thought I would, but I guess I just didn't do a good enough job."

There was no response. Of course there wasn't.

"I know, I know, if it didn't happen then it wasn't meant to be. That's what you always tell me...told me." He smiled weakly.

He looked like a child pouting at a playground. Not able to play with his friend because they were put in time out. But the time out was forever. He could never play with his friend again. He could never see his lover again. The person he was going to marry. God, he had already gotten a ring. They had already gotten engaged just a few weeks before it happened. Before those lowlifes shot them dead in that alley. All for what? $20? Knowing y/n, they probably tried to talk them out of it and reason with them. They were too nice for this world.

"I still haven't gotten rid of your things..." He admitted.

It had been three months since y/n was buried. His apartment was still riddled with things that reminded him of them. But how was he supposed to get rid of them? Was he supposed to just toss their things in the trash and forget? Fuck that. But y/n and him did have a conversation about a scenario like this before. It was around a year ago, but they had told him to donate their clothes to an orphanage or a charity if they passed. And they also did that when they outgrew clothes.

"...I mean, I've donated some of your clothes, but I just can't let go of anything else."

Edward chuckled lightly, recalling a fond memory.

"Do you remember when we first met? How I, um, solved your crossword? That was...that was funny. I really thought you were going to hit me or something."

~

The person next to him on the subway train was focused on the newspaper below them. Their eyes were narrowed, concentrating on solving the puzzle. Edward, who was already enthralled with how stunning they were, couldn't help but peek over their shoulder. It was the crossword from this morning. He had already solved it, and rather quickly, during his lunch break at work. When he noticed how stuck they were, he decided to chime in.

"23 down is handbag." He said simply.

The person lifted their head up, giving him a stern stare.

"What?"

He pointed at the crossword.

"23 down. Seven letter word for purse. Handbag."

They huffed, filling out that part of the crossword before mumbling a soft "thanks". He beamed with pride, and then pointed to another part of the crossword.

"Parasol."

"The fuck is a parasol?" They chuckled.

He raised an eyebrow at the comment.

"You're not that smart." He blurted out.

The stranger turned to him slowly, looking insulted. He was quick to raise his hands up in defense.

"Why would you say that to someone?" Their eyebrows knitted in irritation.

"I-...I don't know. Sorry. I have a bad habit of speaking before thinking. I...I didn't mean generally. I meant like...like when it comes to crosswords. I-I bet y-you're a really smart person." He stuttered out.

They crossed their arms over their chest.

"You autistic or something?"

Edward turned red instantly, but he nodded.

"Yeah, I can tell. Me too though. And if we're just saying what we're thinking, then you look like a pervert." They smiled at him, cheekily.

He huffed.

"I am not!"

"Doubt."

"You don't even know me!"

"You don't know me either, so maybe we're both wrong about our assumptions." They tilted their head, putting him in checkmate.

Edward sighed, fidgeting with his hands.

"Touché."

They giggled.

"I'm y/n, what's your name?" Y/n suddenly asked, holding out their hand.

He looked caught off guard by the personality switch. But he was quick to take their hand and shake it.

"Edward Nashton."

Y/n nodded, and let go of his hand. They rummaged into their bag, and pulled out their phone. After pulling something up, they turned their phone around and showed it to him. It was their contact information.

"Call me sometime?"

His eyes were wide, stumbling over his words as he input the information in his own phone. Y/n watched with a soft smile before putting the phone away. Edward nodded frantically, as if he was a bobblehead.

"O-Ok..."

~

He ran a hand through his hair, sniffling softly.

"You kind of scared me then. But you were a sweetheart once I got to know you. What did you think of me?"

It was silent, and he sobbed.

"I'm talking to your grave. This is pathetic, isn't it?"

He sighed.

"No, it isn't. I'm...I'm grieving. Maybe you can hear me, somewhere. Yeah, yeah maybe you can..."

Edward looked down at the ground, seeing a ladybug. He gasped softly, and held out his finger. The colorful bug hesitated, but eventually crawled onto him. He lifted his hand up.

"Good luck, right? Isn't that a thing? I think you told me it meant good luck..." He smiled.

The bug flew away.

"...it's a little too late for it, though."

A shiver ran down his spine.

"Oh, um, again I'm not really sure if you can hear me, but I thought I might play our song. Well, not 'our' song, it's the Foo Fighters, but you know what I mean."

Edward pulled out his phone, and opened up Spotify. With a few taps, he played the song. He turned his volume up, and placed his phone on their grave.

Hello, I've waited here for you.

Everlong.

Tonight, I throw myself into.

And out of the red, out of my head, she sang.

He buried his head in his hands, suffocating a few meek cries. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he wiped them away. The music carried in the breeze, and he could almost feel it in the air. In this very moment, the song felt more literal, and a little too similar to his situation.

Come down, and waste away with me.

Down with me.

Slow how, you wanted it to be.

I'm over my head, out of her head she sang.

"Oh God..."

Edward reached out for his phone, but he hesitated. He wanted to turn the stupid song off, suddenly hating it. But he didn't. He didn't turn it off. What if y/n was listening to it? What if they were happy? Edward retracted his hand.

And I wonder, when I sing along with you.

If everything could ever feel this real forever.

If anything could ever be this good again.

The only thing I'll ever ask of you.

You gotta promise not the stop when I say when.

She sang.

He looked up at the sky, trying to prevent anymore tears from falling. His cheeks were already stained with them. With a deep breath, he exhaled and looked back at the grave. Specifically, their name on the tombstone.

"You always loved this song. Sometimes when you were sad, you'd lay in bed and listen to it on repeat. I don't know why you did that, because it only made you cry more."

Breath out, so I can breathe you in.

Hold you in.

And now, I know you've always been out of your head, out of my head I sang.

Edward hummed along, but it was shaky and out of tune. His hands trembled as he picked at the grass. Part of him hoped that he would wake up, and find out that it was all a terrible nightmare. He hoped that when he woke up, y/n would be right next to him in bed. They would be asleep, and they'd turn over to rest their head on his chest, just like always. He would synch his breathing with theirs, and their chests would rise and fall together. All he wanted was to hold them once more, and feel their heartbeat.

And I wonder, when I sing along with you.

If everything could ever feel this real forever.

If anything could ever be this good again.

The only thing I'll ever ask of you.

You gotta promise not to stop when I say when.

She sang.

He didn't say anything. What could he say? What could he possibly say to change the situation? Absolutely nothing. There was nothing he could do or say, and he felt helpless.

And I wonder, if everything could ever feel this real forever.

If anything could ever be this good again.

The only thing I'll ever ask of you.

You gotta promise not to stop when I say when.

The song ended, and Edward grabbed his phone, turning it off. He sniffled, sitting in silence as the breeze ruffled his hair. Rain started to drizzle just barely, but he paid it no mind. His eyebrows knitted, and he let out a frustrated sigh.

"I'm so mad at you."

He looked down.

"I know it's not your fault, but I'm still just...I'm angry. Why did you have to be nice? Why did you walk home alone at night? You knew better than to do that..." He trailed.

Edward's mind was swirling, and it felt like he was in a funhouse. Mirrors distorted everything around him, and he couldn't even tell where he was. He felt like he was in a foreign land. He was navigating a world alone.

"Maybe I should just join you."

Their voice practically rang in his ears.

Don't do that, Eddie.

He cupped his hands over his mouth, and let out a muffled scream as he tucked his head in his lap. His chest heaved as he continued to cry. Both of his hands moved up to his hair, and he tugged at it harshly. He rocked back and forth slightly, groaning and whimpering in anguish.

"I don't want to be alone. I was alone my entire life, up until I met you. And now you're gone, and I don't know how to continue."

No response.

"The song, the song said it! 'Come down, and waste away with me'. I w-want to do that!"

Frustrated, he stood up and paced back and forth. His hands rested on top of his head. Thankfully no one else was in the graveyard, because they'd definitely give strange looks. Or maybe they'd understand. Maybe he wasn't alone with how he was feeling.

"You're...you're selfish! You left me!" He spat, pointing at their grave.

It was quiet.

"Why would you leave me? I'm not strong enough to deal with this..." Edward slowed his pacing.

The rain came down a little faster. Waterdrops hit Edward glasses, and he took them off aggressively. Using the hem of his shirt, he cleared the lenses before putting them back on.

"This was not how this was supposed to go! I did not ask for this to happen!" He yelled.

Edward sighed, and sunk down to his knees. He brought his head down to the grass, and wept.

"But you didn't either..."

The song repeated in his head over and over, and it was making him sick. He loved it so much, but he hated it at the same time. His throat closed up from crying, and he felt like he was suffocating.

"You're not selfish, I'm sorry. Y-You were the most selfless person I'll ever know. I mean, you gave me a chance, that says a lot, right?" He chuckled, lifting his head back up.

He shook his head.

"No, I know you don't like that. Don't poke fun at myself. I'm...I'm worthy of love, I know that."

Edward sat in silence, trying to calm himself down. The rain had picked up a bit, and it was now a decent sprinkle. His hair was no doubt damp, but it didn't really matter.

"I didn't bring flowers, because you never really liked the idea of it. They die after a bit. But maybe I can visit every week, and we can listen to music?" He suggested to no one.

He nodded.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea."

He leaned down, kissing the tombstone. After a few seconds, he planted his hands on his knees and pushed himself up. A shiver ran down his spine, the cold weather seeping into his bones. He swallowed thickly, and pinched the bridge of his nose before rubbing his forehead.

"I don't want to leave, but it's raining a lot, and..."

He trailed off, looking at his wristwatch. Blinking harshly, he exhaled and sat back down. Edward let out a soft sigh, turning into a fog in the chill air. It was freezing outside, but he could care less. Reaching down, he placed a hand on the grave, rubbing it gently.

"I can stay a little longer..."

[multimuseticles]

You know... I've been drawing ever since I was like 5 years old. It's something I've spent pretty much my entire life doing. The longest I'd ever really go without drawing is like a couple of months maybe, and lately I've been drawing on an almost near daily basis. But if I'm being honest, I'm fairly close to actually quitting.

I still love to draw and I don't really want to stop, but it's getting to a point where AI slop is just entirely taking over the internet. Finding even reference images these days is so difficult because google is filled with AI crap and a lot of actual art sites allow AI art(looking at you Pixiv and DeviantArt).

I used to get a couple of commissions a month just a few years ago. Then covid hit and I got a little less work because people didn't exactly have the same amount of money to spend, which makes perfect sense. But getting closer to the end of covid when people could actually go back to work etc, AI decided to creep its head up and now I'm lucky to get one commission every few months. Originally, AI art was laughable and it was only able to make really stupid shit that was basically illegible. Like that Dall-e thing.

Putting the rest under a read more because it's somewhat long.

But nowadays, a lot of people prefer to use AI than give actual artists attention. Especially now that a lot of big companies are pushing their own AI crap(looking at you Adobe and Meta). Instagram used to be a great place for artists, now its filled with AI crap that Instagram seems to fucking love and is basically training their AI on your own posts. They say you can opt out, but if you live in the USA? You seemingly can't. In the EU you can because of laws, so I was able to opt out. However. I don't trust Meta not to train off my shit anyway.

Then you've got Adobe, which y'know, was a thing for artists to create stuff, be that through Photoshop, Illustrator or even their video editors. But now they're just pushing their lame AI crap to do everything for you, and still charge a ridiculous amount for their service.

Now I'm not just complaining because I'm getting less work. It's just depressing that creativity is dying. Generative AI is being used in video games, movies, tv shows, music, youtube videos, voiceovers and pretty much EVERYTHING else. It's impossible to avoid these days. Sites that allow AI but ask you to tag it so people can hide it doesn't work either, because people just don't tag that shit.

Due to all this AI crap, artists are being accused of using AI to create their art, regardless of if they show proof or not. It hasn't happened to me yet, but I feel it's inevitable simply because I absolutely suck at drawing hands and I can just barely get the hang of them most of the time. A ton of actual artists have been essentially bullied to the point where they don't post their art online anymore, or are forced to change their art style.

It's so much harder for artists to get their work out there anymore because AI is taking over all of these sites so the majority of the stuff you see is generated bullshit. It has led to people being like "Why would I pay someone to do this when I can just write a prompt and get what I want in seconds?" and no matter what you say to people with this line of thought, they just do not give a single shit.

I'm fine with AI to an extent. I think it's fine to just use it for dumb shit between friends, or helping to get a design idea for an OC or something. But the moment you start making money from AI or posting it online and claiming it as your own(and saying that people should credit you if you used it???) is the moment I think it's not okay. Have you seen Facebook or Twitter lately? Filled with really messed up AI images and AI responses. Facebook is rampant with weird and disturbing looking AI generated images and Twitter is 90% bots these days.

This whole post was spurred on by a conversation I saw between two of my friends. One of my friends wanted to get into graphic design, and being the artist of the group and having experience in graphic design, he came to me for advice. He got some very basic stuff done and he was really proud of it. He was showing some of the stuff he made to our other friend who simply responded with an AI generation of the same thing saying "Just use AI man, it's quicker and looks better." It was super depressing to see, especially since I've had conversations about how much I hate generative AI with these same friends.

So at this point I'm on the edge of just stopping. I probably won't, but I'm starting to lose motivation because I feel like there is no safe place to upload my art anymore. Will I stop? Probably not, but the temptation is there. I dunno, fuck generative AI man.

Sorry for the long ass rant, but I'm just getting so fed up with this crap.

[pristinekanesays]

 🦋 Life Is Strange: Mental Health Headcanons

 🦋 warnings: heavy topics, mentions of psychical and verbal abuse, mentions of mental illness, kate's suicide attempt, a gif of warren beating the shit out of nathan which is funny to me, mentions of my literal enemy mark jefferson

 🎧 A/N: I was feeling a little silly, goofy even. This idea popped into my head as I was writing some relationship headcanons but I decided to write this instead, the relationship headcanons will be out later today though probably or tomorrow. ツ (this took like 9 hours)

 🦋 Chloe Price:

  💾 An attachment to Rachel who turned out to be just really only leading her on and giving her false hope, a dead father who she keeps seeing in her brutal nightmares, an abusive stepfather who we see hit her after a certain choice and has probably hit her before on several occasions, a mother who rarely takes her side and a best friend that's dipped only to come back and not tell her.

   📼Her emotions can change in a split second from 0% to 100% almost immediately, she's seen smoking which she probably uses to drift away from reality and ease the way she feels.

  📝I think that from research and playing the game that Chloe has Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), from her trust and abandonment issues, being unable to take control of her emotions and the meltdown she had in Chaos Theory.

  🍂Kate Marsh:

 💾 Kate is so deeply traumatized by what Nathan did to her, drugging her and promising that he'll take her to a hospital (he lied to her, he's an asshole). Only for Victoria to spread a video of her kissing complete strangers for the whole school, town and her extremely religious family to see.

  📼Her room is unclean and messy, things are spread across the floor including books and clothes, when she's at her desk she looks noticeably tired with red, puffy eyes from crying. Inside her room, it's dark and her mirror is covered up (afraid to look at herself, i think she's beautiful by the way.) When she's on the roof threatening to jump, she's correct that we don't know her mother but she apparently thinks that Kate is already on her way to hell.

 📝I think from how her behaviour is in the game that she has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) & Depression.

 📷 Max Caulfield:

 💾 She's gone through hell and back, watching her best friend get shot and finding out that she has literal powers that can rewind time. Then having to rewind and save Kate's life, rewinding to stop Victoria from going to Mark Jefferson and ending up in the dark room, saving Chloe from getting killed by a train and shot by Mark, finding Rachel's dead body and ending up in the dark room herself.

  📼Max seems to be pretty socially awkward and just focuses on photography entirely, she probably struggles making friends and communicating with others.

  📝I think that Max has Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD), from her tending to avoid certain social decisions and her problems communicating with other people. Also, she could possibly have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) after the Life Is Strange events take place, from her time in the dark room and constantly having to rewind and save Chloe's life.

 🎭Rachel Amber:

 💾 Rachel sort of has to have everyone's eyes on her, you know? The popular girl that everyone knows, especially after she goes missing. Finding out that her dad's cheating on her mom, who turns out to actually not be her biological mother, that shit would fuck with anyone's head.

  📼She's described as a huge flirt from the way she acts with Frank and Chloe but she's leading them both on at the same time, putting a huge strain on both of their relationships. Chloe's convinced that Frank is a huge creep (a little) especially since he has her bracelet but Chloe refuses to believe that Rachel would have did that to her. (going behind her back, lying to her.)

 📝Histrionic Personality Disorder (HPD), it seems to describe her and her behaviour pretty well. Her emotions, her powers , how she started a whole fucking wildfire and her very unhealthy behaviour.

 🎬 Victoria Chase:

 💾 The Queen Bee! It's obvious that she was born into a wealthy family due to her expensive jewellery, clothes and very expensive camera equipment. (I see why Nathan and Victoria get along, they're both rich people who slightly get on my nerves.)

  📼From what she said to Max, it's obvious that she's jealous of her and probably afraid she'll take the spotlight or her place probably. She wants to be liked, the center of attention and if she isn't then she'll have a fucking fit. (I'm gonna have a BF, a bitch fit!) It's also obvious that she's very close with Nathan and aware of his unstable behaviour, their relationship can be seen as romantic or just friends. (i don't ship them, more like brother & sister.)

 📝It says on her profile that she could possibly have Histrionic Personality Disorder (HPD), seductive behaviour, self-centeredness and constantly seeking reassurance or approval.

 🎮 Warren Graham:

 💾 It's my favourite dork! He's literally 16 and in a school specifically for seniors, smart much? It's said that he probably advanced a couple grades on his profile due to him being pretty smart.

 📼He's seen a few times fidgeting around, he's literally unable to stay still apart from when he's getting his picture taken. He acts without thinking like how he beat Nathan Prescott's ass (twice) and I get the vibe he'd also struggle focusing on certain tasks.

 📝I couldn't find anything on Warren but personally i think he has Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) from what I said earlier, he's unable to stay still, acts without thinking and struggles focusing on certain tasks. (like loving me back)

 🧨 Nathan Prescott:

 💾 He's a horrible person and I don't defend this man but I do feel bad for him, physically and verbally abused by his own father, used by Mark Jefferson all because he's rich and easy to manipulate. He went down all the dark paths in the world for a fucked up dickhead (i literally despise mark jefferson, i will beat his ass.)

 📼It's obvious he's mentally unstable and everyone around him knows, they just don't care except for his therapist. It's heavily implied that he suffers from paranoia, anxiety and psychosis. From his scary ass drawings and a letter from his therapist directed towards his father detailing how Nathan is `disconnected from reality`.

📝Nathan is confirmed to have Bipolar Disorder and Schizophrenia from the medicine (Risperidone, from his profile) that he takes which is used to treat both of those things. And possibly, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) which could have been brought on by the abuse he endures from his father. (i'll beat his ass as well.)

[thehandworld]

Angstober - Day 20 - Spare Me @angstober Continued from here

Lies... One lie after another, similar to right now, where there is one torture after another. He was lying down on the floor as he looked at the TV in front of him, watching while Gokudera was walking around the cell he was locked, scratching his head. That is good... He... Is... Watching Gokudera angry, or even thinking was better than the fear he saw in front of that man.

Closing his eyes he picked up the phone that was left just so the two could talk. Hey Gokudera... Do you remember when we dated when we were teens?

"HUH?! What the fuck you are bringing up now?!"

During that time... You said you cheated on me... Just so we could break up... And then years later you admitted that... It was just a lie.

"... Che... Yeah, I remember that. What about it?"

I knew it... But I decided to accept that because I thought... I was freeing you. I guess... All I needed to free you was... Just use you like a whore or slave huh?

"YAMAMOTO TAKESHI!"

He hung up on him, closing his eyes. Hate me... The Rain just ends up passing out, drained by the tortures. All that Yamamoto needed to do was... Keep the fight alive in Gokudera. Because in that way... That way... The Storm would get out of that alive... Tiredly he opens his eyes after a few hours.

"Oh? Here I thought you were going to submit? I guess I need to break you more."

Who was that man? He was related to Gokudera in some way, Gokudera was afraid of this man. Sure the tortures, the verbal abuse, the manipulation... All of that was tiring but... Was it really all? The Rain sighs again as he looks at that pathetic face. What? Do you believe I'm going to say: "Oh pleaaase, spare me. Pleaaaaaase spare me!"? You are wrong.

He was expecting it, the kick in his abdomen. "I guess I need to train you harder huh?" As Yamamoto rolls his eyes at the other. Do whatever you want, but I will never ask you to spare me, so go for it. Do whatever you want. His face was grabbed harshly as he looked towards the Rain's face.

"I will make you regret it, I will make you resent him, I will make you sell him to me and then I will make you be my fucking toy ~! I will break you ~! I WILL FUCKING BREAK YOU!"

Yamamoto laughed unhinged at that. Do you think you can break me? Try it. Try as much as you want. But you will never be able to. He felt it coming when his head was pushed harshly to hit the wall behind him. After all, I'm the Decimo Vongola Rain Guardian. He looks at him furiously.

The torture was worse that day, but one thing he knew... He knew that his family was looking for them and when they were found, he was going to rest and take a vacation, maybe... Maybe he should just retire like his father?

He was tired, exhausted... His whole body hurts as he is dragged up, to another room, there he sits down and is tied to the chair as he looks at the TV in front of him. There was Gokudera, it seemed like he was being treated well, changed from the cell to a room, as well as clothes, and other things. Yamamoto wasn't sure what was that, but he watched.

Just glad to see the Storm angry, thinking, serious, maybe a little depressed? Not long thought, as he watched him. Knowing full well that he would figure out a way to free them, gently smiling at that. Soon... Soon they were going to be free.

[jamiesfootball]

Oh oh oh oh! I noticed you did not list the Jamie falling asleep 5+1 fic, does that mean the title is there??? 👀

And as much as I’m always begging for posts from the others hit me with some info about Heaven Sent a Hurricane and/or The Greater Richmond Pet Acquisition!

Yes it does mean that. You are keen sighted. The 5+1 has now been named 'I still feel like the same person I’ve been' and I am quite happy with the title (it works on every level I wanted it to!) Bonus: I think I may get into edits on ch 1 for it this week (pray pray pray I did not jinx myself by saying that)

Heaven Sent a Hurricane - this is my darker timeline that is based off of this idea I had that is basically 'what if Roy and Keeley never broke up, so Roy never trained Jamie, and then Amsterdam happened?' This one interested me for two aspects:

1) I love angst, and Jamie in the Zava era with no hope in sight? Endless possibilities.

2) The Roy and Keeley relationship, and particularly the idea that they would have to learn and grow as a couple but with the fun addition of the exploration of non-traditional relationships. Keeley is coming to terms with the fact that she may just be polyamorous, specifically in terms of Jack coming around, and what does that mean when she is trying her hardest to make it work with her boyfriend who she really does love?

In its original iteration it was a not-the-way-you're-thinking Roy/Keeley/Jamie endgame, with Keeley being poly, Jamie being aromantic, and Roy's poor search history being sacrificed in a fucking bonfire after all the googling he's had to do. But I also go back and forth on how much fucking effort that sounds like, especially since I would start in a depressing angsty place and end up in a somewhat crack-tastic place, so it very well could end up one series called Jamie Going Through It (Zava Style) that would focus only on Jamie and his mental state, and another series called Everybody's Incompatible Bitch; Let's Go Eat Some Fruit (Who Has the Wi-Fi Password?)

The Greater Richmond Pet Acquisition is that other damn thing I blog about that begins with Give Jamie Tartt A Cat but eventually has spread to me assigning animals to the entire team. The main story in this one is that Jamie comes back in S2 and befriends Higgins, who shows him pictures of the late Cindy Clawford, and then Jamie decides to go out and adopt a cat. THE GIANTEST AND FLUFFIEST CAT. PURE SEROTONIN IS HIDDEN IN THAT FUR.

It's positively fluffy (when it's not absolutely gutting you with feelings), right until Wembley happens and after his dad leaves and the hug is settled Jamie has a complete fucking panic attack that he has to get home now or his dad is going to hurt his fucking cat. At which point like, they got to talk about the abuse, man. Fuck.

[majjiktricks]

Kaz for the ask game? Every question. All of them.

oh dear this is probably gonna be long. some of these were hard…

1. Why do you like or dislike this character? i think mgsv was the second game i played (after mgrr) and i just. bro i fell in love with this guy almost immediately. hes depressed. hes full of rage. hes got sunglasses. hes even bisexual. more seriously, i think hes just really interesting. hes somehow one of the most reality-grounded characters (in a series with characters like ocelot and fucking. the pain/the rest of the cobras) while also being the guy who invented war-as-a-business and doritos. i find his story very compelling. child of war, doesnt feel he belongs in any of the places he could claim as home, so he fights to make a place for himself... oughghg... hes also veryyyy gender goals for me :3c

2. Favorite canon thing about this character? hes a NERD. he likes trains and hes a bit of a history buff, hes full of random facts (i know its mostly for game exposition reasons to tell the player, but i also like kaz just randomly knowing shit because its fun). in mg2 hes got all those fucking WEIRD tidbits to tell snake. like the spit thing. half the time i think hes making shit up to fuck with snake. but he does know things. i need fics and stuff to make him weirder.

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character? i dont think i really dislike any of the traits he displays in the games. yeah hes got flaws and hes an asshole and he commits warcrimes, but i think all of that is what makes him interesting. so rather than dislike something ABOUT him, i dislike what was done to him. its probably been beaten to death but im SO sad they killed him off in mgs1 and THEN decided to develop his character. like. cmon. they couldve done so much cool shit with him had he not been shelved so early in the series. or even- they bring back big boss TWICE. why cant anyone else come back 🥺 i love thinking about kaz being involved in the time around/between mgs1-4…

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in? ngl i dont think about crossovers much. i dont like them.

5. What’s the first song that comes to mind when you think about them? koi no yokushiryoku. its a fucking ridiculous song but it also makes me very sad. also diamonds by sam smith. thats a bbkaz divorce song to me.

6. What’s something you have in common with this character? i recently found out that my light sensitivity is not the normal experience for everyone ✌️ so ive been wearing sunglasses a lot lol

7. What’s something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like? i think its so funny that he gets shipped with basically everyone. its so good. i love it ^_^

8. What’s something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise? thankfully i dont see it much but i really cant stand the type of people who simplify characters down into basic stereotypes just for shipping purposes. ive seen a few things of essentially a bishie kaz in art (not in fic, bc i run for the hills at the slightest whiff). like. babes. you dont need to have one really buff guy and one feminine cutesy one for you ship to be good. please… hes not helpless nor is he very thin or boyish or any of that. hes almost 6' tall and fucking jacked in pw? i also hate it when people completely write off characters for being morally grey or for doing bad things. again, thankfully this doesnt happen much in my circles because i think ive curated a sane group of mutuals who like metal gear, but for anyone else who thinks this way? babe you came to the warcrimes series and didnt expect there to be warcrimes? where you play as the VILLAIN for 3+ games? i think the bad stuff makes him more fun :3c

9. Could you be roommates with this character? depends? does he let me hit it? 😏

10. Could you be best friends with this character? i would like to think so… if i met college-era kaz i think i would want to be friends with him… if he went on to be a business major and not a guy chasing death and combat around the world, yeah probably.

11. Would you date this character? i personally dont understand dating lol. probably? but if we could also just be friends/fwb thats fine with me 😂

12. What’s a headcanon you have for this character? i like to think about the mundane things a lot… if i do something and it reminds me of The Character. for example i like the idea of kaz listening to city pop while hes cooking. its a very chill kind of music and its a genre hes likely familiar with if he kept up with anything in japan during the 70s-80s. i also think he would often smell like methol and camphor. tiger balm is very useful when it comes to pain, and he probably uses it a lot post-gz because hes the stubborn-ass type to deny medical treatment and assistance, insisting on doing everything for himself. (the same guy who got back to work after like. only a week spent recovering at mother base. and refuses advanced prosthetics that could help him…)

13. What’s an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot? 😎 for obvious reasons. its just silly <3

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character. we only ever see him in uniforms/bathing suits, but i think he would be a high fashion man. slick suits in unconventional colors, barely there but somehow tasteful club attire, very carefully accented, subtle pieces of expensive jewelry. this guy likes money, he knows how to spend it too.

15. What’s your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn’t matter if it’s canon or not.) vkaz <3

16. What’s your least favorite ship for this character? i think ive only seen it once? but. kaz/zero. why. tbf i think its mostly that i just dont like zero. at all. crusty.

17. What’s a ship for this character you don’t hate but it’s not your favorite that you’re fine with? i like pretty much all other kaz ships ive seen aside from ^^ i think i was originally neutral on ocelhira but at this point i have been swayed into liking that too :]

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire? i find his relationship with solid snake really interesting. i wish we got to see more of it… he probably has very complex feelings about snake given their relationships to big boss and i just wanna dig my little claws in and inspect it bit by bit…

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don’t like? once again the only one i can think of is kaz and zero. and its less that i dont like it than i dont understand it. i probably should go back and replay peacewalker/watch the secret phonecall thing again. theres probably just a little piece im missing to make it fit into my brain.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn’t matter? we dont actually see kaz and amanda interact that much but man i would love more of that. they dont seem to be interested in each other at all, in the romantic/sexual sense, which i would want to see explored more. kaz is used to being seen in that lens by women and i want amanda to beat him up a little bit for it. i think shes one of few moral and sensible people in the series and i think kaz could've learned a lot from her. amanda also shouldve gotten more screentime in general. i wish she and chico were in gz or tpp somehow </3

21. If you’re a fic writer and have written for this character, what’s your favorite thing to do when you’re writing for this character? What’s something you don’t like? i want to see him taken care of <3 i will have him taken care of :]

22. If you’re a fic reader, what’s something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don’t like? i havent read too many kaz-centric fics tbh but i LOVE it when people write about the 70s for him. or any of the missing time between games tbh. i love to see what people think he was up to at the time. i havent found any consistent throughlines that i dont like yet. usually if i dont like a fic i dont finish it lol.

23. Favorite picture of this character? the model swap with quiet. you know the one. pouty kissable lips mfer.

but also so many others. theres so many good pics of him <3 this was just the first to come to mind ehehe

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them? actually, he reminds me a lot of one of my ocs LOL ive had an oc named maddox for something like 6 years now, who once i thought about it is very similar to kaz. hes got (one) fucked up eye, worked for a sketchy paramilitary agency, has a robot arm, is kind of a harlot, mellows out and settles down with his children later in life… theyre both involved with the leaders of said paramilitary agencies. they both train kids who were involved also with that same organization. maddox doesnt go and try to start his own military country LMAO but i do think the other similarities are really funny. like. no wonder i liked kaz immediately. i have a guy just like him living in my brain.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now? i had no context for who kaz was when i first met him in gz but i thought he was a funny little guy. and then when you rescue him in tpp i just wanted to take care of him…….. ngl i think that sentiment has remained, just now i am full of other feelings as well. i think if i ever get out of metal gear brain rot, kaz will be the character that sticks in my brain lonnnggg after.

[weebsinstash]

Dunno if you watched SK8 the Infinity, but one important conflict is literally the protagonist Reki becoming extremly insecure and unmotivated in skating after seeing how his new friend Langa (a snowboarder) who has barely started skating is a prodigy and so much better at it than him, who has been skating since he was a child.

Langa is naturally talented at skating while Reki works hard and still cannot measure up to someone who just started, which makes him consider quit skating altogether and leads him to distance himself from Langa because of insecurity and jealousy.

Those type of scenarios just pull at the heartstrings, you know?? Like there is nothing worse than working hard and still feeling inferior to the people around you, which DOES make for juicy angsty scenarios :)(

No but literally those are the kinds of plots where you kinda immerse yourself in the grief and it can be empowering to see your underdog recover, but also GOD is that shit so depressing and hits close to home, for real the kind of plots I soak up and throw pity parties for myself for lol

You know I've been pretty open about it but like, every so often I get compliments on my writing that are very sweet, but ultimately I do have to acknowledge like 😅 I AM basically a self taught high school drop out. So especially when I personally start writing about these sorts of stories "lol what if Reader is a depressed fucking loser absolutely struggling through the mediocre machinations of life and has Strong Hot Person come save them" like. You know where that's coming from lmao 😂 extremely unsettle but I figure what I write is usually relatable enough that it's like why the fuck not be a little personal sometimes

God though I had initially considered that when I was talking about like the Spiderverse You vs YouTwo ideas, initially considered making YouTwo drastically superior to you, but the route I've decided on is, you're on equal footing and there are certain things you each do better than the other but, seeing them be better than you at anything is salt in your wounds since you're feeling replaced.

I also like obviously have mentioned it several times but like. Living with Damian Wayne specifically would be absolute awful for this scenario, especially if you make your yandere mean or whatever. Like you could be minding your own goddamn business doing your favorite hobby and have this snot nosed fucking 10 year old (this one, the nasty one, before he gets tamed down, potentially by you?) and he's just like "that's not how you're supposed to do it" and physically takes it out of your hands, does it for you, and explains to you what you were doing wrong the entire time

Like imagine platonic yandere Damian who can't communicate his feelings for shit and is still deep in his Little Hellion Phase so you think he's just constantly insulting you and trying to show how much better and smarter than you he is when in reality he's just like. Very Poorly being like, "oh, a chance to show my sibling how cool and smart I am, and then I can teach them and they'll like me :) and they like to learn new things so I should teach them as much as I know and they can feel smart too :)" and on your end you're thinking he's an egotistical MEAN little kid who's making you extremely insecure and feel worthless and stupid and maybe sometimes often he's, not always using the best language with you because he wasn't really raised with kindness. "Why would you think THAT'S how you do it?" With a tone like youre a fucking idiot, "I don't understand what you're not seeing, I've been doing this for years and I'm an actual child"

like genuinely it's all of those "someone else one upping you" ideas but WORSE because you can't leave this fucking house and he's TEN. Youve got a fucking TEN YEAR OLD physically and mentally one upping you CONSTANTLY with the mental abilities of like a fucking adult man. I feel like the entire family being trained in violence, you'd think they would understand having like a physical fight and have probably had many themselves, but the second YOU lose your temper and put a hand on any of THEM, SACRILEGE. Damian couldve been saying the cuntiest things to your face and the SECOND you swing on him, just absolutely lose your shit, suckerpunch that brat in his face, give him a literal black eye that he didn't block because he didn't expect his beloved sibling to hit him, Bruce is UP YOUR ASS about, "you know better than this! That's your brother!!" like straight up, I think messing with one of the Robins or members of his family is the fastest way to have yandere Bruce lose patience with you and do something less loving. Takes away privileges, grounds you, makes you do labor around the house or labor for him in the cave or Damian, forces you to apologize and also acknowledge "that my brother just wanted what was best for me 🙄"

He's the kind of overbearing calculating shit where he waits until everyone is at the family dinner table and he casually pauses in between spoonfuls of soup, "so I see sister has been sneaking out of the house. You didn't do a very good job of washing the cigarette smoke out of your jacket" ousting you in a double whammy combo for sneaking out without permission AND smoking, and of course you're responding something like "you little PRICK!!" and now Bruce is standing up, jabbing a finger towards the stairs as he demands you go to your room with the unspoken threat that's he's coming up there to speak to you about this after everyone eats

Like legit living in that house would be a nightmare because everyone is gifted and everyone's doing somersaulting backflips and it's like. Lmao my knees pop when I stand up :) you're all like insanely gifted in your fields and I'm like. Normal. Some would say a simple minded burnout, even. Like. Lmao. Imagine a scenario where you're still independent and doing your own thing bur Bruce is, you know yandere mode and keeping tabs on you, and he's constantly trying to like, nudge you towards better opportunities. You're in costume on a rooftop and suddenly he's asking you about your schooling. You're working a shitty day job and one day the in universe equivalent sends you am email "based on your qualifications, this employer is interested in your resume" and its a super well paying WayneTech job that you. Turn down because you'd either fail the drug test and don't think you're good enough lmao. Bruce just tearing his hair out as he decides "ok fine I'll make your life better by force" and just starts buying your apartment building and where you work or some shit so he can improve your quality of life from the outside

[ladyfogg]

May I? - 40/?

May I? - 40/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

The burn of her muscles was a welcome feeling. With every jab to the punching bag, her wrists screamed in protest even with the protective gear. She was hot, sweaty, out of breath, and still filled with pent-up emotion. Her mind wasn’t quiet like it was supposed to be and she had a sense her instructor knew that.

“No! Stop!” Worf barked when she fumbled and lost her momentum. “You are still letting your mind wander. You are hitting for the sake of hitting. You must make your punches count. Aim when you hit, do not flail. Now, start over.”

Faith didn’t argue because she knew he was right. By now, she understood what her trainer expected of her and was determined to keep up. Her bangs were plastered to her forehead and curls had wriggled loose from her bun. She ignored both as she took a deep, centering breath, then started the combo over. Jab, jab, jab, uppercut. Jab, jab, jab, uppercut. 

At first, she had hoped Worf would teach her some badass Klingon moves. But once he realized her hand-to-hand combat consisted of what she saw in holovids, he decided to go with a basic human approach. 

Reeling in her emotions, she kept her focus on the punching bag. It helped to picture Fajo’s face and once that image took up residence in her imagination, she followed through with her punches.

Worf nodded approvingly. “Good, much better. Alright, you may rest.”

Except, she didn’t stop. It wasn’t about Fajo anymore. The longer she kept going, the more her walls came down. Years of frustration, of anger, bubbled to the surface and were released with each hit. 

“Faith, you are done. Stop.”

She wasn’t listening, at least not to Worf. She was listening to the echoes from the past, first her mother’s voice.

Huh. A B is fine but next time it should be an A.

What do you mean you can’t do the math? You must not be trying hard enough.

When you’re in the academy I’m going to expect much more from you. 

No, you can’t go out, you need to study for the entrance exams. 

I don’t care how the other students did, why didn’t you do better?

Tears mixed with sweat and each shooting pain of her protesting muscles only urged her on. 

Oh, that’s Professor Diaz’s daughter? Hmm, not really like her mother, is she?

Ms. Diaz, you’re better than this, we expected more.

You’ll never serve aboard a starship if you don’t stand out more.

“Lieutenant, enough!”

With a final yell, Faith punched the bag one last time. Her wrist twisted unpleasantly and she cried out in pain. “Fucking bitch!”

Her shoulders were seized and Worf spun her to face him. “Remember what I told you! Use the anger do not let the anger use you!”

Faith knocked his hands away as she struggled to take a proper breath. Her lungs were on fire and her heart felt like it was going to break through her ribcage. Taking the gloves off, she collapsed onto the nearby bench. Her sore wrist was the one Fajo broke. It had never quite felt right even after Dr. Crusher set it and with all the training it was constantly hurting. She rubbed it, trying to ease the discomfort.

Worf’s intense gaze took in the expression she wore. “You lost yourself for a moment.”

Faith rubbed her face with her towel, not bothering to look in his direction. “A little bit.”

“That was more than a little bit.”

She wished she could say it was just the ghosts that were bothering her. However, she knew that would be a lie. Ever since she heard of the plan for meeting Konro she had been on edge. 

“I hate this,” she snapped. “The whole away mission doesn’t sit right with me and I can’t figure out what’s bothering me about it.”

“If you are concerned about Commander Data’s safety, he is an exemplary Starfleet officer and has been in danger before. He will be fine,” Worf assured her. 

“It’s not just that. I’m feeling…I don’t know, restless about the whole thing. I’m supposed to stay on the ship and go through my duties like it’s nothing when my crew mates are risking their life on my behalf. It doesn’t feel right. And while I know, logically, that Data can handle himself, it doesn’t stop me from worrying. Especially now with what Q did.”

Worf made a noise of disgust. “If I could destroy that entity I would do so in a heartbeat.”

“Join the club.” Faith took a long drink from her water bottle. “You know, when you have anxiety, it’s a constant struggle between what is real and what your mind runs away with. To find out you’ve been watched for months…” She didn’t finish the thought. 

Worf was quiet as usual, however, after a moment, he joined her on the bench. “I cannot pretend I know what you are going through,” he said. “It would be disrespectful to act as if I do. But I share your anger. As the head of security, I have failed you and Data twice now. And Klingons are not accustomed to failure.”

Faith sighed and leaned back against the wall. “Funny, no matter how hard I try I always feel like I’m failing in some way. I’m not working hard enough, I’m not resting enough, I’m not doing enough.”

“No one is able to do everything, it is not physically possible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Lieutenant, if I may ask, what drew you to Starfleet in the first place?”

“Family obligation and lack of options,” Faith answered honestly. “But, more importantly, I wanted to prove myself, to prove I could be an officer.”

“Now that you have, what is your next goal?”

Faith sat in silence, winding and unwinding the towel around her hand. “First, I want to figure out who this Konro guy is and make sure he’s held responsible for all the shit he’s put us through. After that, I don’t know.”

“It is worth thinking about. It is difficult to remain mindful if you do not know what your mind wants.”

“I’m aware of that, Lieutenant.” 

“As far as the away mission is concerned, I understand the need to be involved in something that is personal to you. Why not speak to Commander Riker?”

Faith considered his suggestion, wondering why she hadn’t thought of that herself. “Do you think he would listen to me?”

“I have found him to be reasonable and receptive. It can’t hurt to ask. The worst he can do is say no.”

Worf had a point. If she was so frustrated with being left behind, why not ask to be included? She didn’t have as much experience as the others but in terms of knowledge of the Vangar, she actually interacted with them and had an idea of how they spoke. She could pass as Dulcer with the right prosthetics.

“Thanks, Lieutenant, I’ll talk to Riker later.” She took a deep breath and reached for her gloves. “Alright, let’s go again.”

Worf reached out a hand to stop her. “We are done for now. I suggest letting Dr. Crusher check your wrist. You have been favoring it for some time.”

“But I’m making progress. I don’t want to stop now.”

“Faith, working yourself to complete exhaustion helps no one. We will build up your stamina over time. It cannot be rushed.”

“Why does everything take time?” Faith grumbled. “Therapy, self-defense…”

“The path to growth is a painful journey. If you do not go through the pain you will not learn from it. It is the journey that matters most.”

“Yeah, okay, I know. Deanna said something similar. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Worf rolled his eyes but there was a slight smile on his face. “I admire your tenacity. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. Go see Dr. Crusher and then rest.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. Thanks for the lesson. I’ll see you later.”

“Have a good night, Lieutenant.”

Faith grabbed her towel and water bottle, then shuffled from the training room. On her way to Sickbay, she couldn’t help thinking about the away mission. Talking to Commander Riker was a daunting thought but the more she mulled it over, the more she felt it was something she had to do.

Like Worf said, it couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

Beverly smiled when she saw Faith, though that faded when she caught her rubbing her wrist. “Hi, Faith. What happened?” she asked.

“Old injury flare-up,” Faith said with a sigh as she hopped up onto one of the tables. “I’m training with Worf and overdid it.”

Beverly gave her a sympathetic smile. “Yup, that’ll do it. Let’s take a look.” Trusty tricorder in hand, she began her scans. “Aside from this, how have you been feeling?”

“Annoyed. Scared. You know, the usual.”

She had a feeling her elevated anxiety wouldn’t dissipate until things were settled. And even then, she knew her body well enough that she anticipated that once it did, she would be drained and on the verge of sickness.

“You strained your wrist a little but nothing serious,” Beverly said, reaching for a hypo. “This should help ease the discomfort. I would suggest wearing your brace and waiting a day or two before training again. I take it that beginner’s Mok’bara went well?”

“Nope, a complete disaster. But Worf offered to train me one on one.”

“Ah yes, after you bit him,” Beverly laughed. “He told me the story when he came in so I could heal it.”

Faith shrugged, a grin spreading across her face. “Hey, when you can’t overpower your enemy, biting is a quick alternative.”

“That reminds me, while you’re here we should do a quick blood test and medication check, it’s that time.”

“Already?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Ugh okay, whatever you need.”

Since starting her antidepressants, Beverly had been regularly checking Faith’s body’s response to the medication. They had tweaked the dosage once or twice before to keep up with Faith’s weight and natural tolerance. After her major anxiety attack, the dosage had been increased again with the hope it would help her mood. Faith hadn’t noticed any difference yet.

“Hmm,” Beverly muttered to herself as she went through the usual routine tests.

“You know, it’s very troubling hearing a doctor make the noise while they’re doing blood tests on you.”

Beverly smiled and patted Faith on the arm. “Nothing major to worry about but I am going to suggest that if you don’t feel the effects of the new dosage within a week, we may want to try another medication. I think your body has already built a tolerance to the effects.”

Faith tried not to sign with exasperation. One of the numerous reasons she had been so reluctant to start taking medication was because she knew it didn’t always work, that sometimes people had to try numerous medications before they found the right fit for their body chemistry. Granted, it was a lot less trial and error than it used to be centuries ago, but it was still known to happen. 

“Alright, if that’s what we have to do, we’ll do it but I’m going to complain the whole time,” Faith warned.

Laughing, Dr. Crusher put her tricorder away and rubbed Faith’s shoulder. “Good to know. Aside from your usual anxiety, is everything else okay? I know right now tensions are running high.”

“That’s an understatement. On the plus side, Geordi is back so I don’t have to run Engineering by myself. Well, except for tomorrow during the away mission.”

Beverly nodded, giving Faith an understanding smile. “They are going to be fine. I hope you’re not losing sleep over it.”

“Trust me, that’s not what’s keeping me awake a night. Data is.”

The doctor’s eyebrows shot up and she smirked. “Oh? Is that so? Aren’t you lucky?”

“No, no, nothing like that. He just has so many questions about his feelings and I don’t want to discourage him. It’s actually really adorable most of the time. I answer what I can but usually let him talk himself to sleep. At any rate, sleep had been a precious commodity for us both.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what he’s going through but he appears to be handling it well. I’m more concerned about what it’s doing to you. Not just sleep-wise.”

In all honesty, Faith had attempted to avoid getting in her own head about it and foresaw a very long counseling session with Deanna once all was said and done.

“I’m…” She was going to say ‘fine’, the ‘f’ was on the tip of her tongue, yet she stopped herself. Because it would have been a lie. “I’m all over the place, Beverly. I’m happy for him to get to experience what he’s been longing for but then I’m scared about what happens when Q takes it away, how it’s going to affect Data. He told me that he was afraid when he gets turned back I wouldn’t love him anymore and that breaks my heart.”

The pained look on Beverly’s face and the way she placed her hand on her chest meant she felt similar pain. “Oh, Faith. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I assured him that I love him with human emotions or android emotions. I think it helped. I hope it helped.”

“None of us know what tomorrow holds,” Beverly said, taking Faith’s hands in her own. “Whatever happens with Q or Konro, you and Data truly love each other and that’s all that matters. He may be worried but I know he feels your love.”

“I’m going to take him to my childhood home for shore leave. I want to share it with him, share some of my culture and my past. But, more importantly, I need to go back there for myself. It’s been too long.”

“That’s a great idea!”

“I’m really excited about it. I’ve already started planning what we’re going to do first.”

Beverly crossed her arms and a smug smile spread across her face. “You’ve come a long way, Ms. Diaz.”

“Have I?” 

“Compared to the ensign who Data carried in here, the one who couldn’t bolt from me fast enough eight months ago, I’d say so.”

To Faith that seemed like a whole other person. How was that eight months ago? It felt longer. Looking back on that time, she couldn’t even recognize herself, recognize who that broken, angry person was. Not that she recognized the current version of herself either but at least she was putting in the effort to figure out who she was.

She said her goodbyes to Beverly and headed for her quarters for some much-needed rest.

The first thing she did was take a long hot shower to scrub the dried sweat from her training. While she still wanted to talk to Riker, she needed to eat something first. Hair woven into a braid and wearing a loose shirt with comfortable shorts, Faith was standing at the replicator, trying to decide what to eat when Data arrived. 

He gave her a warm smile as he walked over and slid his arms around her waist, holding her from behind. 

“I am happy to see you.”

She smiled and leaned back into the touch. “I’m happy to see you too. Are you going to be dragged away again?”

“I should hope not unless there is an emergency.”

Faith turned so she could give him a proper hug. Data returned the embrace, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“How did your training go?” he asked. When he saw the brace on her wrist he gently took her hand in his. “Did you injure yourself?”

“I’m fine, just overdid it a little. Worf says I’m improving. Well, not in those words exactly but there are fewer sighs of exasperation. How was the briefing?”

Data’s expression changed to one she hadn’t seen before. Instantly, she sensed something was wrong, however, before she could ask, he spoke.

“Faith, something came up in the meeting which I feel you must be made aware of.”

Her heart sank as her mouth ran dry. The seriousness with which he spoke had her defenses rising. 

“Okay,” she managed to say. “About what?”

Data led her to the couch and they both sat, their hands still joined. He opened his mouth as if to speak, yet paused and didn’t say anything. 

After a few seconds of silence, Faith was the one to speak. “Data, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me,” she said. 

“I am sorry. I do not wish to scare you. I am merely attempting to choose the right words.” He took a deep breath. “While we were discussing Konro’s motives, the captain looked into your Starfleet profile to see if there was something in your past that may explain his interest. And we may have found something.”

Ice traveled through her veins and her body shuddered. When she went to speak, it took her a moment to find her voice. “What was it?” she asked. 

“Your father.”

“What about him?”

“Were you aware that he was Captain Hiberto Diaz?”

Hiberto Diaz. The few times her mother mentioned her father she never called him by name. As a child, Faith had asked but her mother made it clear she wouldn’t answer her questions so she gave up. When she got into Starfleet, it never occurred to her to look him up herself. By then, it didn’t matter. 

“Judging by your tone, that means something, doesn’t it?” she asked.

“He was a Starfleet captain who traded arms, among other things. He had amassed a large network before he was caught.”

Faith’s heart sank. While she never knew him, that didn’t mean she hadn’t thought about what he might have been like. The perfect Starfleet officer who died in the line of duty. That was the idea of a lonely child who had no other information to go on. Even when she got older and let go of the fantasy, part of it never truly left. 

Until now. 

“Oh.” Faith pulled her hands into her lap, her gaze unfocused. After a moment, she glanced back at Data. “Wait, what does this have to do with me?”

“We do not know and can only speculate that Konro might have thought you would be susceptible to manipulation or bribery.”

Faith ran her hands through her hair and stood. She needed to move; sitting still was no longer an option. While she paced, she could feel Data’s eyes following her. Her mind tried to process, tried to make sense of the new information. Angry wasn’t the right word to describe what she felt. Disappointed would be better. Confused, because her mother never told her. And a smattering of others that she had to push away to avoid becoming overwhelmed.

Data remained silent, waiting for her response. His hands fidgeted in his lap and at one point he went to reach for her, only to retract his hand while she kept pacing.

“So,” Faith said when she found her voice again, “either this guy is hunting me down because of my relationship with you or he’s hunting me down because of who my father was.” She exhaled sharply, masking a dark chuckle. “Wow. Even the things that happen to me have literally nothing to do with me.”

Data cocked his head in confusion. “I do not understand what you mean.”

Faith sat down next to him, her arms coming to rest on her legs as she leaned forward. “When you have depression, you often feel like things are just happening to you rather than you making them happen. Everything you told me fucking plays into that feeling. And I hate it.”

“I am sorry.”

“I’m tired of it, Data. I’m so tired.”

This time, she reached for him and he wrapped her in his arms, cradling her to his chest. “I do not feel I have sufficient words to comfort you in this matter,” he said, rubbing her back. “And I am sorry this information about your father has added to your frustrations.”

“It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you.”

“I was sure you would be upset about us learning something so personal about you. I am aware of the value you place on privacy.”

“If the information is available through Starfleet records, it’s hardly private. I probably could have looked it up myself if I truly wanted to.”

“Why did you not?”

“It’s not relevant. It has nothing to do with who I am and if this Konro thinks he can manipulate me based on the actions of a man I never knew, he’s got another thing coming.”

Data stroked her hair, his hand trailing down to play with the end of her braid. “You are a strong-willed individual, Faith. It is one of the many things I love about you.”

“I believe the word my mother used was ‘stubborn’.”

“Hmm, interesting.” Data studied her for a moment as though he had come to a realization. “You said who your father was is not relevant to who you are. I hope you realize that you are not beholden to who your mother thought you should be.”

Faith had nothing to say to that. In fact, her mind went blank and she could only blink in response. Every thought came to a screeching halt, leaving her baffled. It went on long enough that Data frowned and waved his hand in front of her face. 

“Faith, are you alright? Are you having a dissociative moment?”

“I’m…” She paused, struggling to find the right words. “I’m here, I’m just blown away by what you said. Counselor Troi is going to have a field day with what you just helped me realize.”

Data hugged her close and they sat that way for a long time. Faith’s body was starting to feel the extent of her training and she was famished. When her stomach grumbled, Data drew away. 

“Perhaps we should have some dinner,” he suggested. “It has been a long day for both of us. Food and rest are in order. Tomorrow…” He paused. “Tomorrow will be difficult for both of us.”

Faith approached the replicator, finishing the dinner menu she had inputted before Data’s arrival while he cleared the table. 

“I haven’t been able to think of anything else but the away mission,” she said, carrying two plates of roasted chicken to the table. It was served with a collection of grilled vegetables mixed with rice, a solid and healthy meal for her training, and one Data enjoyed.

Data replicated their drinks and joined her. “I too have found myself preoccupied. I must say, I did not expect my human mind to wander so easily. The amount of influence emotions play on your thought process is truly remarkable.”

Faith sat yet didn’t touch her food, her mind focused elsewhere. Her plan had been to seek out Riker after she ate, however, she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate if she didn’t bite the bullet and get it over with. The longer she waited, the more likely she was to back out. 

As Data sat, she abruptly stood. “I’ll be back in a minute. There’s something I have to do.”

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I need to talk to Commander Riker. I want to join the away team with you. I think I should.”

“I do not think that is a good idea.”

“Data, I have to try. Besides, it would make more sense for me to be in disguise instead of Deanna.”

“Counselor Troi has experience with these types of away missions plus her telepathic capabilities will be helpful.”

“Yeah, well, I have experience with the Vangar and I’m the one who was targeted just like you were.” She turned and headed for the door. “Maybe Riker will say no, but I need to at least ask.”

“Faith, please do not do this,” Data pleaded. “While I agree that you have the background knowledge that is required for this away mission, it would be best if you remained on the Enterprise.”

“I’m not going to stay behind and twiddle my thumbs waiting to hear back from you. I can’t. Keep my food warm, I’ll be back in a few minutes.

Data abruptly stood and when he spoke, his voice was sharp and commanding. “Lieutenant, I order you to stop! You will not ask to join the away team.”

Faith spun around, eyebrows raised at his order. “Excuse me?”

“I believe you heard what I said.”

“Okay, I know you did not just pull rank on me!”

“I am your commanding officer and I am telling you that you will not speak with Commander Riker. You will remain on the Enterprise for the entirety of the away mission.”

Faith crossed the room, going right up to Data and jabbing him in the chest with her finger. “Let’s get something straight, Commander, out there, you call the shots but in here, you don’t talk to me that way. Just because I like to be dominated in bed from time to time does not give you the right to bark orders at me. And if you say something like that to me again, I will knock you back so hard your head will fly off, android abilities or not! Are we clear?”

Data inhaled sharply and shut his eyes, struggling to gain control of the emotions he so desperately wanted yet now worked against him. When he spoke again, his voice was steady but clearly forced. 

“Faith, you must understand—”

“Understand what? Either you don’t think I can handle the away mission or you don’t want me on your team. I don’t know which is more insulting.”

“That is not what I am trying to say. All meant was that there is no reason to put you in danger when more experienced officers can assist.”

“Bullshit! This has nothing to do with experience! Whether you like it or not, I’m going to talk to Riker. End of discussion.”

Once more, Faith turned towards the door. When Data spoke again, it wasn’t to her. “Computer, lock the door.”

“Computer, unlock the door.”

“Computer, override unlock by order of Lieutenant Commander Data.”

Faith punched the sealed doors before spinning around to glare at her boyfriend. “God damn it, Data, enough with this. Let me fucking out of here!”

“I will not. Not until you agree not to ask to join the away mission.”

“Why?!” she asked, marching back over to him. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go.”

“BECAUSE I CANNOT LOSE YOU!”

The loudness of his voice was startling enough but what got Faith to stop in her tracks were the tears streaming down his face. All at once she realized what was really going on and she could smack herself for not noticing sooner. 

“Data—”

He closed the distance between them and took her face in his hands, pressing their foreheads together. 

“It is difficult enough dealing with my concern when you are performing your duties, I cannot knowingly lead you into danger,” he explained, his voice cracked with emotion. “Faith, if something happened to you I would not survive it.”

Faith drew back, cupping his chin and tilting his head up to look her in the eye. “Data, shouldn’t it be up to me to decide to risk myself? Shouldn’t I at least have a say in the matter? If you’re willing to risk yourself, I should be given the choice to do the same.”

Data kissed her, hard enough that she stumbled, grabbing onto his arms for support. Tears fell from his eyes onto her cheeks and when she sucked in a breath, he stole it from her. The kiss was a frenzy of teeth and tongue, messy in its technique but clear in its message. It was only when they parted that she was able to breathe properly and even then it was harsh and staggered.

“Faith, please, for my sake, do not insist on coming with us,” he begged. “I cannot do what needs to be done if you are there. If you are safe here on the ship, I will feel better, I will be able to focus on our task. And if we are going to be successful, it will require all of my power to suppress these emotions. I cannot do that around you.”

“What about my emotions, my feelings on the subject? They should matter as much as yours do.”

“And they do. For once, I understand your desire to see this through. I am proud that you are willing to take the initiative. It was wrong of me to try to make you stay so I will ask you one final time, please do not go.”

There were many arguments she could have made and part of her still wanted to make them. But looking into Data’s eyes, hearing him plead with her, she knew that the same reason she wanted to go was the same reason she shouldn’t go.

They were Starfleet officers first, their duty was to something bigger than themselves. She was just as emotionally compromised as he was, and knowing that he would only have peace of mind if she stayed behind, she couldn’t bring herself to shatter that. With a heavy sigh, she nodded. 

As he leaned in to kiss her, she stopped him. “This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for pulling rank on me,” she warned. “I’m still mad at you and don’t you ever lock me in here again!”

“That is understandable. I am sorry that I was unreasonable.”

“It’s okay, being unreasonable is par for the course when you’re human.”

Data smiled at that and Faith kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He hugged her close, his body wracked with the shakes, which cemented how scared he was and made her heart ache. She was by no means over her frustration and anger, however, she had no choice but to set them aside for the moment. 

“Come on, let’s eat,” she said, rubbing his back. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

[wandaluvstacos]

THE ONLY SECONDS THAT MATTER

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE IS UP!

Genre: Contemporary Romance Rating: 18+

Includes: Extensive horse nerdery + cowboys, mxm romance (1 trans + 1 cis), some discussion child abuse, some instances of trans/homophobia (it is rural Oklahoma, y'all), depression, occasional sex scene (but it’s a slow burn for sure)

Victor Ortiz-Bennett had some reservations about moving to Oklahoma, but his late aunt willed him a 70-acre horse farm, and he decides to fulfill his dream of running and operating his own training facility. Victor’s been around the reining horse show circuit for a while, and he’s ready to settle down, travel less, and spend more time with the horses he loves and away from the people he can do without. That is, until he picks up a horse at an auction with a bucking problem he can’t fix, and he has to take her to the one guy who can ride anything– Johnny Stearns, a retired professional rodeo rider.

Johnny Stearns is loud, chatty, eccentric, and fears nothing, exactly Victor’s opposite. However, Victor finds himself sinking into an odd friendship with this new foul-mouthed cowboy without a filter, diving deeper into the mess that is Johnny’s life until there’s no way to extract himself from it. Johnny may talk a tough game, but there’s more to him than he’ll let most people see. Victor knows getting in too deep will mean a rough ride, but if there’s anything Johnny’s taught him, it’s how to stay in the saddle.

Excerpt:

    “I ain’t the one being difficult. If I knew we’d be inviting our boyfriends, I woulda brought Mike.” At this she smirked, raising an eyebrow like she expected this to get a reaction.

            “Mine doesn’t hit little girls,” Johnny retorted, seemingly without thinking. But instead of taking it back or stuttering out a correction, Johnny fell silent and met his sister’s stare with matching intensity. Victor watched some surprise and doubt cross Kayla’s face, probably wondering if Johnny was just messing with her or if he was being serious about the boyfriend part. Victor could barely breathe, wondering what the fuck was going on. Was Johnny really going to tell his sister the truth just to win a stupid argument?

            Then again, that would be just like him.

            “I don’t know how to fuckin’ take that.” Kayla’s cheek bulged as she pressed her tongue against it. “You’re fuckin’ with me.”

            “How?”

            “You and Vic ain’t…” She trailed off, eyes darting between Victor and Johnny. “That was a joke, right?”

            Victor froze, afraid to do or say anything in fear it’d be something Johnny might hold against him either. He couldn’t possibly be considering coming out to his sister, right? They had not discussed it. He’d been so hesitant to let Sarah and Jade know, there was no way he’d take a chance on his sister, whose opinion of gay people Victor knew nothing about. Maybe Johnny knew. Maybe that’s why he was choosing this very inopportune moment to be honest.

            “What if it wasn’t?” Johnny said. His voice came across as confident, but Victor could sense the tension in his body, especially the way he clutched the edge of the table with white knuckles. He was terrified, but it was only evident in the twitch of his jaw.

            Kayla’s mouth dropped open slightly, stopping somewhere between a smile and bewilderment. “You’re fuckin’ with me.”

            “Does that sound like somethin’ I’d fuck around with?”

            “I dunno.” The smile faded when it finally dawned on her that Johnny might be serious. “Seriously?”

            “I didn’t really come here to talk about it.”

            “Fuck off. You can’t just say shit like that and change the topic.”

            Johnny sank back against the booth, spine still rod straight.

            “Johnny,” Kayla prodded. “What the fuck you on about?”

[rfswitchart]

How gay witches saved my life, or, how I fell in love with The Owl House

(Content warning: Bullying, suicidal thoughts, depression.) I don't have that many true hyperfixations. I think it has to do with what happened when I was younger. My family and my classmates all used to make fun of me and treat me like shit because I was obsessed with certain things, and I guess it had an effect to make me not really excited or enthusiastic about things I like. I've gotten better about it as I've gotten older, that's part of the reason normal people can't beat me at Splatoon, and why I've gotten hyper focused on writing and drawing. So, when this Disney cartoon came along about gay witches fighting a Puritan, my eyebrow raised slightly. I thought nothing of The Owl House at first, I have a lot of issues with Disney and how they treat their employees (especially animators,) and the whole James Gunn incident from a few years ago really bothered me. Note for everyone: When a Nazi who openly mocks his rape victim because he got away with it tries to destroy the reputation of a famous director, ignore them and tell them to piss off, especially if said director has repeatedly apologized for his actions for over a decade. Still, the Owl House kept going, and soon Grom happened, then the kiss, and suddenly, my interests actually turned towards the show. "What's this? A gay(-ish) main character kissed a girl and she likes it, on a DISNEY show? I'm invested." It also just happened to fall alongside a really bad breakup I had with someone. Someone who lied to me, used me, and tossed me aside without any real explanation. I was feeling super low, I didn't feel a reason to live, especially because what happened in that breakup was something that had happened with every friend, family member, classmate, teacher, social worker, co-worker, and lover I've had. I'm too trusting when people offer care, people take advantage of my kindness and loneliness. So, after a while, hearing about the cancellation, and absorbing quite a bit of the fandom from perusing the internet for a while, I decided to subscribe to Disney+ and watch the series. And I was immediately hooked. Are you telling me that, after years of wanting everything squeaky clean, without any real representation in race, disability, or sexual orientation, that Disney gave the ok for a series that has nothing but? A show where the bisexual Latina girl had a crush/romance with another girl, and it wasn't shoved in at the last episode? Where mental health is explored and accepted, and where character try to understand each other, even as enemies? Ok Disney, fine, you got me... You really fucking got me. But more over, I empathize with the characters in that series. I know how Luz feels being weird and isolated for it, I know what it's like to have abusive family or be lied to and manipulated, I know what it's like to feel weak and worthless while everyone uses you for your smarts or kindness. But I also love things with all of my heart (not just people, but those few hyperfixations I have,) I have been through a lot but yearn to be stronger, to grow from my mistakes and pain. This series hit me like an emotional train, dragging my fat trans ass several miles as it made a lot of feelings I've had bubble up to the surface. In fact, it helped me process my feelings on not only the breakup, but also how awful I've been treated by everyone. I love this stupid gay witch show with all of my heart and soul, and I curse Disney for canceling it, for trying to bury it because it "didn't fit our brand" or whatever bullshit lie they came up with to justify it. Basically what I'm saying here is that I'm..... writing the first fan fiction I've written in over a decade about Hexsquad going on a road trip two years after the Epilogue. I hope you all will look forward to it, and I hope to put a lot of fun stuff into it.