#did i relapse on christmas?

[genekies]

screaming in the club

time for another vent in tags

[cnnibalize]

✦ driver’s license | b.e

✦ warnings: angst, mentions of; addiction & relapse, !reader has a later on, and i think thats it!

✦ summary: you really mattered to her as much as she does to you? and if she did, why would she leave you like that?

"promise me that we will stick together no matter what happens, i don´t care about your addictions or problems, i want to be with you billie." you said looking deeply at billie´s light blue eyes, they would just drawn all your attention towards them.

"i promise you, ma chérie." she said staring at your face with an gentle smile while her hand stroked your cheek carefully, almost like she was scared to break you.

deep down, you knew it was a lie, but you wanted to believe her so bad. you needed to believe her, it was your only hope. but why you wanted billie to keep lying to your face? at least she would still be with you... right? why can´t you respect yourself even a little? why do you wish do much that she would text you on a random day?

you just couldn´t forget her, it felt so wrong, forgetting her was like ignoring a part of you. A part that you wouldn´t be able to erase, even if you wanted to. and god you were so fucking happy with her, did she even felt half of the things you felt around her? and if she did, how dare her leave you like that?

she just vanished away from your life after a relapse, you remember it all vividly. you were the one who found her, who took her to the hospital, who took her back home...you blamed yourself so much for those 2 hours that you went grocery shopping, all you remember was coming back home and not finding her there.

"i can´t do this anymore, not with you."

"you deserve better, someone who doesn´t makes you cry."

"don´t wait for me, please"

"you deserve to be happy, with someone healthy."

"i wish you the best, ma chérie."

you´d still remember soaking the letter she left behind with tears, why she couldn´t understand that you didn´t want someone "better" you wanted billie, her skin, her flesh, her bones, her soul. all about her was beautiful to you, every single part of her. but after seven years... you had to move on.

even if you didn´t want to.

other girl was in your arms now, and her big blue eyes would just remember you from billie. your little daughter was your whole world now, you moved to an bigger town, got an new job. but you didn´t felt capable of loving someone romantically, it just felt wrong.

"come on, its christmas, cher would like it too." your friend, lissie, was sittin on your dinner table, trying to convince you to take a walk in the city, your four-year-old daughter would just look at lissie and smirk, nodding her head.

"okay, but quick, i really need to sleep." you said giving in to them, they highfived happily as you giggled.

"seriously, lissie... you´re worse than cher." you said mocking her playfulness.

now, all three of you were bundled up with warm clothes, walking around an very crowded park. the lights were bright yellow, it just felt magical, being with your daughter and with your best friend who would drop anything to help you, no matter how important it was. you were scanning the crowd as your eyes meet with familiar ones.

you could recognize those eyes from a far, the only ones who could make you be drawn into them. it was like the whole world stopped in those seconds.

billie was there, but she wasn´t alone.

her eyes look at yours, for you, it seemed like she looked at you for decades, but it didn´t last even five seconds.

billie´s eyes returned to the blonde woman by her side, opening an wide gentle smile as her arm was crossing the woman´s neck and they walked away. she quickly goes out of your view... you suddenly feel something holding your leg.

"mommy?" your daughter´s big light blue eyes were looking up at you.

"lets go home, cherie."

I CRIED SO MUCH WRITING THIS OMFG

✦ taglist: @chrissv4mp @karaeilishh @iluvapplesxh @hkkuugu @camrenfavs

[vivisviolets]

Okkk, let’s spy on your ex (& where you are now) 👁‍🗨💭‼️ (*PAC+ 18+ Extended)

wow,, I mean ok then😭😭 I don’t support it…. But I got to give out the dirt I’ve received 👀… lol ⦿ ✧・*close your eyes love, breatheee, ease them shoulders,- and focus on which image draws your eye for whatever reason- trust and stay open to the magic of it all!! don't rush it!! and don't force it either if none catch your eye! make a request to Spirit/the Universe/God to guide you to whatever messages you need to hear rn~*

. . . Pile 1

⦿ Virgo/earth placements, Virgo season, Moon dominant, Cancer placements/degrees (Moon, 4th house, rising, Venus), Aries degrees, September, summer dusk, 8-9pm, hoodies, scent, connection to pile 3(?), numbers 111, 9999, 911(omg), channeled songs- Don’t Forget Me - Maggie Rogers, Wedding List - Kate Bush ⦿ The first thing I heard was they love you- they loooove you- like exaggerated text and all pile 1s… Oh goodness, I can feel some of you squirming uncomfortably like “Ohh boy…” at hearing that, for some of you it’s because this feeling is unrequited in some way (you did feel love for them but you either distanced yourself, or you fell out of love w/ them- or both), and you really just wish to move on and forget about this (I distinctly got a very clear vision of a summer night, with the first few chords of the song Don’t Forget Me by Maggie Rogers playing- it’s a very vague, wishy-washy memory that I know for my moving-on group still makes you feel things,,)- and for a few of you here,, you do still love this person,- or more so right underneath the surface, you are still “in love” with them… OK I’ll just say, I’m going to do my very best to be sensitive to both groups that resonate with this pile, because there is a lot of raw emotion coming from the two groups- one is freshly moved on, either only just recently in the past few months you’ve split from this person- and or it been 1 year+ and you may have had a “relapse” in grief/introspection over this- and the other group of this collective is still “in love”. I’m hearing the phrase “love-baggage”, so some of you I’m seeing were/are living with this person, and lots of their things are still in your space- and you keep almost unconsciously thinking they're going to come back… for others, you had a lot of plans with this person, a lot of desires/wishes, and or both of those things and you had a lot of expectations and dreams of what could be built in this relationship- and now that it’s ended it's like a Christmas display after the holiday is over, there’s a big empty feeling of “…so- was that it?” I’m so sorry sugar!! (to both groups here 💔) this sounds and feels to me like this connection was a real tisy to you. you didn’t deserve that,- but I can tell from your energy that what happened has really made you grow in a very big and important way, even if it feels like some days it changed you for the worse (I can feel those in the group that struggle with a lot of depression/anxiety stemming from this❤️ I see you, you are heard, and you have my heart to rest in for this reading 🌙)- that won’t be the case forever, please trust me on this that this experience has changed you and your path for the better- for your highest good and joy.- ok final things for the energy check before I move forward- scent was really important to this connection, it either was what your ex found to be really alluring about you/the relationship they had with you, or this is how you felt about them (and or this was a shared attraction!), something about clothing being shared and either you or them being very turned on by that activity (could be s*xual but I more feel a possessive energy), I’m also seeing this person really got off (again😭 *not* meant to be s*xual but omg why are these phrases coming to mind ummm-) on hugging you/holding you close, like having their face carved into the right side of your neck (now I’m hearing that Faye Webster song, Right Side of My Neck- again this whole reading could be either more adult or wholesome you be the judge I wasn’t there 👁-) and just resting in the scent of your warmth. I’m seeing someone who looks very tired and saw this relationship with you as a *relief*- There’s a masc figure (not gendered just energy) who may have worked long hours/nights, or they pilled work onto themselves because they felt they had too,, something about them wanting to be a provider for you but they went about it in a way that they suffered/thus the relationship suffered…

I don’t see you guys as being the type to need/want that, but more the type to want equality in the relationship regarding that, and rely more on having a developed emotional bond- and this ex may have had a hard time trying to know how to “provide” you with that and so out of fear they tried to focus on some other way to give to you (I’m hearing it may have been out of ego) and thus they became destructive out of not addressing this fear they had- I kinda went off!! omg, I’ll shut up and actually get to the part where I tune into where they are and how they are I guess… I keep seeing a figure walking forward, in this gray plane of existence, occasionally sitting in a coffee shop, a place of work, talking to some people for a moment before things fade again and they’re back to trekking forward…

they don’t look unhappy, but they don’t seem peaceful either. and this is how they feel currently not having you in their life, not having this relationship as a structure in their life, appearing ok and productive on the outside, while on the inside… all they can do is keep walking into the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, posting on instagram and then continuing to walk- and I’m hearing maybe the piece of them still connected to you is saying that “you feel the same way”… goddamn it pile 1 I am completely on your side, no buts about it, and all I will say to that message coming through is you need to look into a possible cord-cut ritual. find one that feels intuitively correct to your situation (no murder), and definitely meditate if this person/ex-relationship has been on your mind because it is crucial for you to move on, move out, and move forward from this relationship. for you, AND for this ex. please, please, please, work towards detachment and neutrality. obviously, feel your emotions and address them, but afterward do the final closure by saying- “that was hurtful, that makes me feel hurt, but it happened.”- I know it’s “fun” to pick apart text messages and realize all the times you two weren’t right for each other, and it's easy to live in the past then continue into the unknown (so many songs coming through omg you guys experienced a lot of memories together)- but you have got to start. just a little bit forward every day, please work on your fear of moving forward, because there is nothing to fear- your future self is already at peace, and that future self is you already! you have all the tools to get to them- all it needs is a couple steps forward a day, do it sick, do it crying, do it scared, do it hopeless. just. start. moving. (and do not feel “guilty”, this person will be ok. just like how you will be ok. and that is something to be hopeful about!!) I keep hearing “not at this time”, which is what your ex may possibly be thinking in the back of their mind,- I really hate posting PACs with borderline breadcrumbing but I do see a possible rekindling/reunion between you two, but not for a long time, much longer then either of you expect and it will truly be when you two are incredibly removed from what happened and basically completely different people- and life/the universe will be like “haha ok RENUION EPISODE TIME!!!! nostalgia bait!!!!~” it will be kinda silly, not even in a sardonic way but it will weirdly be very light-hearted, like both of you will be in on some inside joke no one else quite gets. I don’t even see this being romantic in the slightest between you, it's more a shared time of “partnership” and nothing will even get discussed because- both of you will be moved on and settled. in other words, no bad blood housed in the future, thanks to letting it all heal in the present time ⭐️.

sooo pile 1s that's what I got for you, hope you enjoyed haha and that you feel really more chilled out~ and that you continue that feeling into your day/afternoon/evening. One last word of advice, I know things can feel really lonely at times, but truly- your own company is the best company, and it is what you need at this time. and that’s beautiful- so make it beautiful for yourself ❤️!!!!!! ok, I love you so so much~.

*totes random but someone here needs to play around on character ai 💀um-)

🎆THIS READING HAS AN EXTENDED READING OVER ON MY PATREON~♡🎆 “Okkk let’s spy on your ex 👁‍🗨💭‼️ (EXTENDED their 18+ thoughts/where their mind wonders 👀) ***MDI

. . . Pile 2

⦿ The Devil, Five of Wands (reversed), Nine of cups, The Sun (reversed), Knight of Cups (reversed), Three of Wands (reversed) (bottom of deck) ⦿ TW/CW (sh mention/slight 18+ mention), Cancer/Pisces/Scorpio placements, Aquarius placements/degrees (Venus, 11th house, Jupitar, 3rd house), blue, panic/anxiety attacks, dissociation, numbers 11, 10, 1111, 1010, channeled songs- Shades of Cool - Lana Del Rey, Lilies - Ethel Cain ⦿ Hi pile 2s. you’re really going through it aren’t you?.. very strange energy going on- “a different realm” I’m hearing is the phase of life you feel you are in ❤️. I actually began channeling bits and pieces of your pile during pile 1, I do not know why there seems to be a weird connection/relation to pile 1 because I already know this pile is going to be quite a bit different (its like all the piles “know each other” its so weird-) but anyways. let me warm up to your chilly energy pile 2s, because I mean seriously, you guys are really going through it- not to be dark but if you’re into Ethel Cain this is like when she dies and gets put in an icebox- LIKE THATS WHERE YOU GUYS FEEL YOU ARE RN 💀… babe you don’t need anymore sympathy, or pity, I’m just going to be straight up with you- what you need is some love. and you need to accept that love- EVEN if that love, is just from yourself. yes, yourself. In fact, that’s where you really need to start because once you open your own heart back up, that’ll be when the sun shines through again… that message aside, this relationship ending really left you in the cold, it may have happened so suddenly that you feel in shock- in fact, for some of you this shocked-grief may have come to you later on- and its effecting you mentally, emotionally, spiritually, maybe even physically, I was perfectly ok channeling/writting the other piles but being here my hands are shaky, I keep making typos on every other word + double typing letters, the food I just ate doesnt feel like its digesting (+anxiety is just ramping up in me for no reason- partly effected by the sun setting- the weather/seasonal changes may be effecting you)… you’re sick over this pile 2 ❤️… and I really do not want to be triggering and if this does NOT feel like the energy you are currently in I urge you to pick another pile/pick another pac all together. wow ok, my chest is so heavy, and I need to step away to close my eyes in a comforting place (my bathroom lol) and I encourage you to do the same- see you in 15.. 13.. 11.. 9.. 7.. 5.. 3.. 1..- ok! I’m back in comfier clothes, this pile will definitely be more focused on you, tbh I do not even want nor have the desire to focus on your ex so I apologize but we’ll see- you may be having some sensory issues at this time because I was very anxious trying to find the “right” type of hair tie, I didn’t want a plastic one nor a heavy scrunchie.. but even in this space I took from your pile I was still channeling the whole time so BIG TW‼️ for these next energy check-in messages, some of you may be SH-ing at this time, I do not want to give some of you ideas,- but this could be physical self-harm (not just destructive emotion habits i mean), -even if you’re in a state of frozen apathy right now, you are still semi-consciously trying to find ways to address/expel this pain. This whole situation is giving fallen-angel vibes, you feel you have fallen into a very broken world filled with nothing but hopelessness on the horizon… I do not know what else to say other than express disappointment for you pile 2... you're in a rough place.

-one of the final big things regarding this energy, is that there was some kind of “savior complex” in this ex-relationship- and so I’m finally beginning to tap into the energy within the relationship itself… this savior complex may have been mutual, or one-sided- I cannot quite tell, there is an energy that is clearly more docile but emotionally rather volatile (?), and an energy that is distant yet very hot-headed/vicious,, good grief 🤪- also there is a more feminine energy, and a more masculine energy in this pile- I’m trying to be vague as people can play multiple roles/parts at different times- but there were some clear distinctions between the two of you in this relationship (could even be a submissive/dominant dynamic), and within that came co-dependency and this “savior complex” (which weirdly enough- was a slight theme in pile 1 but idk if I mentioned that or not)… you could have been the more “fem/sub/docile” one and was being viewed as requiring “saving” by this “masc/dom/vicious” person, manipulating you financially, physically, etc- or it could very well be the other way around where the more “fem” person felt they were emotionally “saving” you by manipulating you emotionally, mentally, etc… again change/rearrange for your situation and again this could have been a mutual “wanting to save/gain control” of the other person… its all very complicated. -baby, all I can say is that it is good that you are out of it, and if any part of you is still in it I urge you HEAVILY to get the fuck out of it and seek help. I know it is said often but no one can “save” anyone, and that is very true pile 2.- people, friendships, and relationships, are made truly beautiful by helping each other through hard times, unconditionally 💗. and it can be very true and real that other people can help us to reach where we want to be/can help us get out of certain situations, but my darling- this relationship has ended for a reason, the universe did not want this- not because you are not allowed to have what you desire, but because you cannot gain it through this relationship, through this person- I’m sorry. I ask you to begin to change your perspective to something more faithful- faithful to the perspective that what ended was somehow aimed at you gaining what you truly desire, and as divine protection. I know that some of what I have been saying is rather frequently brought up and certain “self-care” advice can begin to sound like monkey chatter yapping- but I do hope that something has gotten to you and made you feel heard in this reading pile 2💗 get out of the icebox and begin to experience life fully through your own lens, instead of through the lens of someone else loving you- you are deserving of a love that wraps you up at the end of your day and nourishes you, but you have to first learn to make a home within yourself ♡. I love you pile 2!! take a shower, clean a small corner of your living space, put on some clean clothes, and watch some anime. just take every moment as it comes for yourself. neutralize the overwhelm ♡. *one last thing- I can't recommend my own extended that I wrote out for you- if you are feeling sensitive, raw, or still relapsing into dwelling over this relationship- please, do not read it. please take care of yourself- you know what would make you feel ok best. I say this as a warning, do what you like- if you want more info, go head and check out what I wrote out ♡. proceed with caution and all that.* 🎆THIS READING HAS AN EXTENDED READING OVER ON MY PATREON~♡🎆 “Okkk let’s spy on your ex 👁‍🗨💭‼️ (EXTENDED their 18+ thoughts/where their mind wonders 👀) ***MDI

. . . Pile 3

⦿ The Star (reversed), Queen of Cups, Five of Wands, Seven of Swords (reversed), Eight of Pentacles (reverse), The Emperor (reversed), ⦿ Aries/Leo/Sagittarius placements, fire dominant, Mercury dominant, Virgo placements/degrees (6th house, 1st house, Saturn *6h/virgo degree), comfort food, sunshine, numbers 444, 888, 222, 111, channeled songs- Vogue mix - bookstore radio(yt) + Dark Red - Steve Lacy, Wild Side - Suki Waterhouse ⦿ UGH PILE 3s- you won’t BELIEVE the day I’ve had- no seriously as soon as I stepped in your energy I breathed a sigh of relief- because OH MY GOD, you are doing so well. and I know as soon as I said that you either felt 1. bashful confidence like “ughhh stawpp but also keep going~”, or 2. immediate crippling anxiety and self-doubt. well don’t crumble on me yet!! and stay with me now, whatever the hell you are doing, I’m here to tell you- you are doing the right thing and you are on the right path. and it is going to become ever more obvious that you’re doing the right thing by you making a little bit of headway every day- even if you just started feeling better TODAY- I’m here to tell you that you are doing well (even if the rest of your week has been shit lol). goodness pile 3, I write my PACs over a couple days because life has me chasing butterflies sometimes- but anyways, I’ve been thinking of your energy since 2 days ago,- I just keep getting the most peaceful and wholesome images in my head of where you are currently pile 3s, I’m seeing you looking so freaking cute, I’m seeing neck scarfs, you doing your hair in cute up-dos, you walking around your apartment/place of living looking like your ready to hit the town/turn some errands into a self-care date- you’re smelling really nice too- like you’ve really gained control over your time/energy and so you can now dedicate some intentional time into physically feeling good!! I’m hearing that Emma Thomson quote “This is your body- this is your home, it’s where you live”. and truly pile 3, you really are living solo right now, you've turned the energy spent on your bestie, your lover, your roommate, your sibling, towards yourself. you are spending some beautiful quality time with yourself. your intention setting has grown so strong and you really are now investing most of your time/energy into you/your life. which is allowing you to be so in the moment- your moment, your world- goodness jesus pile 3! I’m struggling to not ramble on about you, I can view you and feel your current state SO clearly I can almost taste it- but the thing is, I’m actually rather unable to fully “embody” your energy, because you’ve become that protected and within your own space, so I’m honestly just admiring you outside looking in lol. moving forward in painting the picture I can see of your life, going back to how I could almost “taste” your lifestyle rn- I’m also seeing you’re eating really good right now, you being so connected to yourself is making any food you intake taste sooo good and its nourishing your body so well- I’m seeing a lot of fresh fruit like pears, apples, oranges, tangerines, also seeing you eating out at really delicious places and the food is so good- you’re also beginning to make your own meals as well which I’m here to tell you is increasing your amazingly good energy- keep making dinner for yourself it’s so cute and beautiful~ you’ve turned so many aspects of your day-to-day mundane life into “self-dates”, and now that you’ve charged up with consistently giving to yourself, I see you balancing your time with going out and making plans with specific friends- you’re not interested or have the urge to socialize with a friends-of-friends group of people, and definitely there is no pull towards meeting someone new- because this is still a delicate time for you, you’ve built up so much valuable inner peace.

So I’m seeing a lot of very mutually giving one-on-one time with some of your closest friends, you’re giving such quality energy to them right now and them to you as well- I’m seeing there are 2 people who you’re focusing on the most/they’re the most in your life at this time, I'm hearing specifics but I’ll leave that out for the collective, but the strongest images coming through is female/fem friendships, “sisterhood” (this could even be your sister/sibling, otherwise you just feel very connected/have a history with these friends), and you’re walking together down-town doing some shopping but also deep in conversation, going to comforting restaurants dressed to the nines- all 3 of you (you + these 2 closest friends) could also be all going out together- good God is your life-giving main-character in a chick flick right now my pile 3s- specific soundtrack and all AHAHA. *btw to those here who feel like their life is not living up to what I just described, again take what resonates and change it to fit your situation, but these things if they are not happening currently in your life, it will happen. I can absolutely feel it, it feels so right, and I encourage you to take what I just wrote out as visualization inspo~ Oh yea your ex— this always happens where I come up with the title and theme of a pac- and then I don’t get to it until a paragraph later (tho some of you like that so lmk), anyway. they’re out,- I’m honestly struggling to even pick up on them because the situation is that moved on from and spirit agrees, like spirit divinely moved this situation on, I can only pick up a whiff of what’s up. It’s giving like, a crush or friendship you made in kindergarten, like it happened, and it’s a part of your past, and your past is you, but it’s in the past- like it happened so long ago. you know? like why talk about it… that’s how I’m feeling about the teensiest bit of what I’ve sniffed out- but,, I do have an extended to write out later soooo- I’m actually sorry pile 3 I’m going to keep digging. I think it’s funny that I keep using scent as a metaphor for trying to pick up on this ex-person, it makes me think that the only vague thing that you can still recall is their scent. despite how vague and blurry everything else has become, the memory of their scent is still incredibly vivid,, and truly it only takes that memory recall to then paint the rest of the picture of who this person is and who they were to you, and the unit you were with them- good God, again something connected to how they smelled- it’s deep, aromantic, sensual, sweet, like drifting off into honey- I’ve been hearing songs through your whole reading by the way as though I’m playing one of my playlists while writing this (I’m not), that's why I said your life is like a chick flick- soundtrack and all- anyways, the song coming to mind as I dip myself into this memory of this person is Slow Like Honey by Fiona Apple. so, if I described this person’s energy so far then there you go- I keep wanting to say “your person”, but like, this situation is done.

the only “but” or “what if(s)” is derived from you and them sharing a point in time with each other, and you know- your past is still a part of you, and it’s past for a reason, and since it’s in the past, then really it’s already closed.- obviously, it's completely valid for you to remember this and still grieve by the way, because our emotional beings can’t really tell the difference between memory and current reality, but at the same time our logic does know the difference- it's a mind vs. heart thing, the past is closure by default, even if that does not fit with the puzzle that is our emotions. and I’m here to let you know it is ok no matter where you are to still feel at times that they were a part of you, because they were a part of your past, and your past is a part of you. -just to wrap up, I’m not seeing anything about them other than that they are their own person, just like you, with their own life, just like yours, -in essence, I don’t see any specifics at all-, and just like you this shared past is also a part of them. both of you are separate people, who share a link with each other that is now in a state of closure (which you both revisit and walk through), and that’s for the absolute best, for both of you.

*-now, can I dig up what the situation was when it was messier and get freaky with it- yes I can, it’ll be funny lol-* 🎆THIS READING HAS AN EXTENDED READING OVER ON MY PATREON~♡🎆 “Okkk let’s spy on your ex 👁‍🗨💭‼️ (EXTENDED their 18+ thoughts/where their mind wonders 👀) ***MDI

. . . i just wrote for so long I'm shaking i need tea (the drink kind☕️ cus i spilled enough of the other type of tea lmao) love, vi~♡

[ace-sher-bi-john]

While I absolutely love both BBC Sherlock and Sherlock & Co, Sherlock & Co definitely depicts a more healthy relationship between Sherlock and John.

For starters, on BBC Sherlock, Sherlock and John are both co-dependent on each other. John was implied to be suicidal before he met Sherlock. Sherlock relapses without John by his side. Even with Mary to substitute the void in his heart and help him find purpose again, John would never move on from Sherlock. If anything happened to John, it wouldn't end well for anyone, especially Sherlock.

On Sherlock & Co, one of John's only problems after returning home from Ukraine was that he couldn't afford a flat on his own. He seemed to be very excited about life, going on dates, couldn't wait to start his podcast. He was genuinely happy to see Mike.

Sherlock could easily manage on his own without John. He doesn't need to be reminded to eat, he doesn't need an assistant for cases, he doesn't need someone to take care of him. His only problem is that he needs a flatmate.

Although John and Sherlock both need each other to afford rent, they don't need each other for anything else. They want each other's company, they don't need it. They aren't two halves of a whole, they are two wholes coming together. That's how it should be with all healthy relationships, platonic, romantic, queerplatonic, or otherwise.

It also helps a lot that Sherlock isn't a complete jerk on Sherlock & Co. He genuinely treats John and everyone else with a kindness that while I believe BBC Sherlock is capable of it, he rarely showed it. When John's PTSD is triggered, Sherlock asks John if he'd rather sit out that case. He then asks John if he wants to hold hands and discuss his feelings. In part one of the Blue Carbuncle, Sherlock complimented, actually complimented John. That kind of scene just never happened on BBC Sherlock. John was doing his "That was fantastic! You're amazing!" and Sherlock said, "You flatter me, Watson. But you did awesome too! You should have seen the way you did that! It was brilliant!"

John seems like a much more well rounded happy person in general. Just listen to any of his viewer discretion warnings. "Greetings you handsome devil! This episode will contain a bit of the old swearing, a bit of violence, some drug use. Oh and a bit of duck poo!" I hate to make this comparison, due to how much it will sound like an insult. But he acts like the quirky Disney Princess personality that every Disney Princess from the 2010s has and I mean that in the best possible way. It's my favorite thing about him. He's so adorable.

In the Blue Carbuncle, John has a moment similar to ones that you've seen many times before on BBC Sherlock. John has plans that mean he won't be able to help with the case. He is going to Berlin to spend Christmas with his old army friends. It's going to be his first boys' trip in years. But then he gets so sucked into the case that he's almost late for his plane and decides to just stay with Sherlock anyway because the case is just so fascinating he can't leave. On BBC Sherlock, John has abandoned his plans, his job, his girlfriends, for a case because he couldn't stand to be without Sherlock for so long. Also because Sherlock would often crash is dates, ruin his relationships, just so that John could assist him on cases. On Sherlock & Co, Sherlock was happy for John that he was going out with friends, even though it would mean spending the holidays alone. And Sherlock LOVES Christmas, so it's sad to think that he would have to spend it alone.

Where BBC Sherlock would manipulate or guilt John into staying, Sherlock & Co Sherlock let John go and was genuinely fine with going it alone for a week or two, even if it meant being all alone on Christmas.

I love BBC Sherlock, toxic co-dependent relationships and all, and I always will. But Sherlock & Co gives a little something different and I am happy that my boys are happier.

SH: *laughing* What's so funny Watson? JW: *laughing* It's just hearing you say "bell end" SH: Lovely and jubbly

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 37

Eminem x Female Reader Fanfiction

Synopsis : Em starts therapy. Reader is organizing Jamal and Talia's wedding. A track gets leaked., causing Jamal to be angry at Em.

MARSHALL’S POV

Marshall was rather nervous when he sat in the chair in his therapist’s office. In the past decade, he had made a point to avoid therapy as much as he could, only committing to the bare minimum. Technically, he was seeing a therapist but, from the very beginning of their session, he had made it clear that he did not really want to go over his whole life story, over-analyzing his relationship with his mother or whatever therapists were usually interested in. So, for more than fifteen years, the sessions focused solely on his addiction management and potential triggers. Anything that was not related, he deemed irrelevant and, at some point, his therapist gave up on trying to get him to talk about his childhood or going in depth on his feelings. And so far, it had worked out pretty well for him. He was sober for more than sixteen years now and, if it were not for fear of losing the woman he loved, he would gladly stick to the usual agenda. But it was Y/N, and the thought of losing her over something as stupid as his trauma was making him sick to his stomach, so when she asked if he would consider therapy, he reluctantly accepted. As painful as a two hour session talking about the neglect he experienced in his youth seemed, he knew It wouldn’t compare to the pain of having the woman he loved leaving him. And even if if didn’t come to that, he didn’t want to hurt her, in any way, shape of form. He had fucked up big time and he knew it. 

When he called his therapist’s office to request an emergency session, he was greeted with urgency and the secretary immediately put him through with Dr Hanson, who immediately asked if there was a relapse. And why wouldn’t she ? When a patient’s been refractory for years, there can only be so many reasons why they’d be so eager to have a session. He said he hadn’t relapsed, just « relationship stuff » he needed to figure out and it was enough for the therapist to open her practice earlier on a Monday morning after Thanksgiving. Dr Hanson had been trying to get him to open up for years but he had always refused, considering his music to be his best form of therapy. When he walked in and sat in the chair, he was greeted with a smile. 

Good morning Marshall, Dr Hanson said. 

‘Morning, Doc. Thanks for the quick appointment, he replied with genuine gratefulness. 

Well it’s not every day that one of your oldest patient decides to open up out of the blue, is it ? She grinned. 

Well, it took fifteen years but you finally get what you wanted, he shrugged. 

So, Marshall, what brings you in today ? She asked. 

He took a second to respond. He knew what brought him in but filling her in with so many details about his personal life felt foreign. He had a great working relationship with Dr Hanson, but it had always been on a need to know basis. Now, though, he knew the whole thing would need dissecting. He hummed and chose his words carefully. 

I, uh… Snapped at my partner, he explained. We managed to talk it out but she said something about unresolved trauma I shouldn’t take on her, so… Here I am. Trying to make things right. I don’t want it to happen again. 

Dr Hanson stayed silent for a split second and looked at him from behind her glasses. She brought her hand to her mouth, noted something on her notepad and smiled. 

Looks like Christmas came early, this year, she said with a smirk. Can you go over the events for me ? 

______

TWO WEEKS LATER 

Y/N’s POV 

The weeks following Thanksgiving were nothing short of heavenly. You were feeling at home in the house, you adopted the cutest cat, Talia and Jamal’s wedding was coming together and Marshall was more attentive than ever. You knew he went to see his therapist a couple times a week, though you didn’t pry and ask for much details about their sessions. However, from what you gathered, it seemed to work well for him. In his conversations with you, he seemed more analytical about his own feelings, even talking to you about how he felt about certain things. The two of you had always had good talks, but he was opening up more than ever. And on top of that, he was extremely vocal about how much he appreciated you, lavishing you with praises, telling you how thankful he was whenever you did the smallest thing for him. You had no idea who his therapist was but, if you could, you’d send them gifts. Seeing your boyfriend at peace with his feelings was satisfying, and it didn’t hurt that he was consciously trying to make it up to you. In his own words, he wanted to be « the man you deserve ». Every night, when he was coming home, you were excited to see him and share your progress on the wedding. You knew he didn’t really like all that stuff, but he was supportive of your endeavors. He was even the one who came up with an idea for the venue. One night, he took you on a drive to a lovely place, near the area where you lived. He pointed to a gorgeous house. Well, actually, it was more of a manor. It had an English vibes, rustic yet elegant. 

What do you think ? He asked. 

That’s gorgeous ! You said. It fits right within the wedding theme ! It looks just like the one on the mood board Talia made the other week ! 

I know, he grinned. I was driving in the area with Paul for an appointment the other day and I saw it was for sale. I called the real estate agency and they might be able to convince the seller to lease it for the event, if Talia and Jamal like it. 

They’re going to love it, you assured him. It’s exactly what they want for the ceremony. Cosy, small, intimate… Do you think we can plan a visit ?

Realtor’s inside, he said with a smile. That’s why I brought you here. 

You’re the best ! 

I know you’ve been working your ass off for the wedding and struggled to find a venue, so I thought I’d help, he shrugged.

You placed a kiss on your cheek and exited the car. The place was stunning, big enough and ticked all the boxes. You were under the spell of the house, that resembled the one you always dreamed of living in when you were a little girl. It had a big, beautiful flower garden in the back, ivy was climbing around the big widows and there was a beautiful fireplace. Marshall could tell you liked the place a bit too much and teased you. 

Don’t get too excited, it’s for Jamal and Talia’s wedding, not for us to move in, he chuckled. 

I know, you said with a smile. I like your house just fine, you know ? I just really like the vibe of this one. Besides, I know you could never live here. 

Why is that ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

You like your own house too much, you pointed out. Plus, this one is not located in an area that’s secure enough. 

It’s your house too, you know ? He said. You keep on saying it’s my house but… You live there too.

I know, you said. I’m starting to feel more and more at home. It just takes a minute.

You know, if there are any features you like in this house, we can also make some changes to our house. I want you to be happy, he commented. 

No need, you assured him. As long as I have you, I’m good. 

It was the truth. You were incredibly thankful for the house you lived in and you knew how attached Marshall was to this place. He’d been living there for so long, you didn’t want to intrude. Plus, as long as you had him, you knew you could feel at home everywhere, eventually. Besides, who would complain about living in a literal mansion ? No one. You did not give it a second thought but, the next day, Marshall surprised you by handing you the card of an interior designer. 

What’s that ? You asked. 

I’ve been thinking, he said. I saw how excited you were about the house we visited yesterday, how you kept saying you dreamt of living in that kind of place when you were younger… I want you to feel at home, here, I really do. And my therapist says I need to… How did she say it ? Make actual space for you. So, I was thinking that, if you want, you could redecorate a little ? 

Are you sure ? 

Babe, I’ve owned this place for almost two decades and a lot of the rooms could use a little update, he chuckled. I don’t really care about the whole home decor thing, honestly. I could go another twenty years without changing much. But this is your home and I want you to enjoy the space, not only feel content with it, you know what I’m saying ? If I recall, we agreed that you’d have your own room, like home office or whatever, when I asked you to move in. Why don’t you start here ? 

Could I make it a reading room ? You asked with excitement. With big bookshelves ? And a big chair ? 

Whatever you want, he said with a genuine smile. The interior designer will make your dreams happen. 

I love you ! Thank you thank you thank you ! 

You hugged him tightly and he whispered sweet words in your ear, like how grateful he was for you and your presence in his life, and how he wanted nothing but to make you happy. You were over the moon, impressed by his generosity and commitment to you. You were on cloud nine, imagining your very own reading room in which you could simply curl up with a good book and a blanket while sipping tea, living your introvert life to the fullest. 

In the following days, you took Talia to see the house Marshall had taken you to and she absolutely loved it. Thanks to your amazing boyfriend, they finally had a venue. The two of you also went dress shopping. Your best friend found the right dress very easily. To be fair, the two of you had spent enough time imagining the perfect wedding dress so she had a good idea of what she wanted. The whole thing was almost disappointing : the two of you had imagined that she would have to try on at least fifteen different dresses to find the right one, but it took only two. It was absolutely gorgeous and Talia looked regal in it. The dress was definitely over the top but it was more than fitting with her personality. The two of you had made a lengthy appointment with the store consultant and it seemed like your best friend had not had her fill of wedding dresses fittings, yet. 

How about you try one, Y/N ? She suggested. 

No way, you said. This is your day. You try another one. 

Any other dress would look pale in comparison, she said. I found the one. I feel it in my bones. Just… Indulge me, will you ? 

I’m not getting married, you reminded her. 

All the more reason, she pleaded. If you don’t try one now, you’ll never see yourself in a wedding dress ! Please ?! It’s my big day, you said it. And as my best friend, I think you should oblige me… 

You have a weird way of being a bridezilla, you commented. But sure, whatever… 

You didn’t really see the point. To you, it was weird. A lot of brides would have found it disrespectful if their friend decided to randomly try on wedding dresses on the day of their fitting but Talia was pushing for you to do it. Eventually, you caved in and obliged her. She immediately called the sales assistant, to whom you had to describe your ideal dress. It occurred to you that it was a good thing you weren’t getting married, because you were incredibly specific. You wanted a dress that was simple, elegant and understated, but not plain. You didn’t want it to be revealing but you didn’t want to look like a nun either. You thought it would be impossible to find but the woman came with three dresses for you to try on. As soon as you tried the first one, you felt like it was a costume you put on. It felt too much and wholly unnatural, though the dress was gorgeous. The second dress was nice but not « you » at all. You were practically begging to stop but Talia was having too much fun, claiming this was the moment you were always supposed to share so you happily indulged her by trying on the last dress. And, much to your surprise, magic happened. It was the ultimate dress, the one that you would have chosen, if you had been meant to get married. You were feeling like a princess and Talia even teared up a little. 

Why are you crying ? You asked. 

You-you’re just so beautiful, she said. That’s your forever dress. Right here. 

I’m not having a forever dress, remember ? You said with a small smile. Marshall…

…Is an idiot, that’s what he is, she said as she kept on crying. I can’t bear the idea of you doing all these nice things for my wedding and knowing I will never be your maid of honor and return the favor  because Em is too stubborn to give you what you deserve ! 

I should be the one crying about it, not you, you pointed out with a chuckle. I’m fine, I swear. He is amazing and I have all that I want. 

I’m pregnant and hormonal, that’s all, she said reassuringly. But you’re so beautiful. You should buy it ! 

Tay, this dress is way too expensive and… It’s not like I’m going to wear it around the house, right ? You giggled. 

Ok, but at least let me take pictures ? Because I want to remember the day I finally got to try on wedding dresses with my best friend ! She begged. 

Sure, you giggled. 

You didn’t mind wearing the dress a little longer. It was kind of fun. A voice in the back of your mind was telling you to savor the moment, because it was, indeed, your only chance to wear a wedding dress. You were incredibly thankful to have such a thoughtful best friend to give you this experience. 

Remind me to slap Em, she said. 

Why ? You giggled. 

Because he’s not only robbing you of your dream wedding, he is also robbing me of the greatest day as maid of honor ! 

I’m having just as much fun planning your wedding, you assured her. 

Quit it, she almost groaned. It’s not a pageant speech, you don’t have to play the Disney princess. And he’s not here to hear you, we can bitch about him ! 

I’ll admit I would have loved getting married, you said. Not right now, it’s too early, but knowing it could happen… 

You see, it’s good to hate a little, she grinned. 

But, I don’t know, I guess he has his own trauma, you shrugged. Two failed marriages with the same person must have been tough. I understand not wanting a third one. God, his therapist must have fun… 

You managed to send that man to therapy ? She asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Yeah, we had a little argument, you said. No big deal. But it sparked a conversation about therapy and he agreed to give it a try. 

Well, maybe he will work on his fear of commitment then, she pointed out. 

I don’t think it’s about commitment, you said earnestly. I think he’s very committed to me. He says so himself. 

I’ll circle back to what I said : Em is the most stupid man I have ever met. God, I always knew men were stupid but this one… 

You giggled. Talia was your ultimate ride or die and you knew that if you told her more about the argument you had with him, she would have his head. But to you, it was in the past and Marshall had been so amazing, so attentive and romantic lately that you didn’t feel like bringing it up. After you were done trying on dresses, you joined the guys at the studio. It was your first time going back since you moved back to the US and you were really excited. You found the guys talking in the lobby, happy to see you. 

Look who’s here, Porter said with a smile. Hi boss ! 

Are you really calling me boss ? You asked with a giggle. 

Well, Marshall is our boss and you’re his boss, so technically…

She’s not my boss, Marshall chuckled. 

Right, Royce chuckled. You can lie to yourself but not to us, man. 

I like the sound of that, Talia grinned. 

How was the wedding dress appointment ? Jamal asked. Did you find something ? 

I did ! Your best friend said with excitement. Y/N found her dream dress too ! 

Talia, you scolded with a laugh. 

What ?! Talia asked. It’s true. And you looked perfect in it ! Didn’t she, Em ? 

Marshall simply sighed at her and rolled his eyes with a smile. 

Don’t tell me you sent a pic ?! You asked her. 

What ? She replied innocently. Merely showing that man what he’s missing… 

You did look incredible, Marshall said as he kissed your temple. 

Sorry about her, you said apologetically. She’s the one who convinced me… 

Don’t you dare apologize, Talia said. Someone has to show him how stupid he’s being. 

Talia, please don’t start, Marshall groaned. 

Oh, I will start, she warned. I don’t understand how stubborn you’re being about this ! 

Jamal, please reason your wife to be, your boyfriend groaned. 

Man, Y/N is your boss and Talia is mine, Jamal chuckled. I’m not dumb enough to argue… 

I’m just saying Y/N’s finger could use a diamond on it, Talia argued with a smile. She’s worth it, isn’t she ? 

If that’s about the diamonds, she’s got nine other fingers, Marshall said with a smirk. And I fully intend on putting a ring on each and every one of them. Now, I appreciate the pictures of my girl looking absolutely stunning in a white dress, but you should worry about your own wedding, Talia. 

Men are dumb, Talia sighed. 

What the hell did we do ? Porter asked. He’s being dumb, leave the rest of us alone ! 

Don’t start either, your boyfriend warned him. 

You giggled and let your head roll on your boyfriend’s shoulder, enjoying his presence. You loved being home with him, but the studio had a vibe you particularly enjoyed, probably because it was where you met Marshall. You had fun for the rest of the afternoon, hanging out with everyone. Talia seemed a bit moody about Marshall not caving in on the topic of marriage and you were not so sure why. You assumed she was just moody in general, which you could probably blame on pregnancy. She had a knack for being dramatic and hormones probably didn’t help too much in that department. If memory served, you’d been an emotional mess in your first trimester so you weren’t going to judge… In the car ride home, Marshall brought it up. 

So… Talia was a handful, he chuckled. 

I’m sorry about her, you said. I think she’s stressed out about the wedding and a bit disappointed that she won’t be able to reciprocate the whole maid of honor thing. And, you know, hormones… 

Right, he said. But… Are you alright ? 

I am, you said with a genuine smile. I had fun today. Probably enjoyed trying on this dress more than I should have, I’ll admit. 

Look… Maybe we need to talk about the whole marriage thing, he said nervously. I… The reason why I can’t get married is because-

Marshall, you don’t owe me any type of explanation, you said reassuringly. You’ve been married to Kim twice, you have your own trauma and I know it has nothing to do with me. 

You do ? He asked. 

Look… I see all the efforts you’ve made for me, you said. We got the cat I wanted. You’re letting me redecorate a room in your house. You started therapy. You’re even helping me with Talia and Jamal’s wedding. I know you love me. 

I do, he said with a smile. I’m in love with you. 

And don’t think I didn’t hear what you said about me having nine other fingers you could put a ring on, you grinned. I do enjoy a good piece of jewelry. 

Noted, he chuckled. Thank you for understanding, baby. 

He seemed relieved about the fact that you didn’t press him to talk about the topic. As far as you were concerned, you were trying not to think about it too much. And everything you said was true : you were truly grateful for his efforts during the past weeks and wanted to respect his choices as much as possible. The two of you enjoyed your evening, cuddling with your cat, who seemed to despise Marshall. The next morning, you were awaken by the doorbell. Someone was putting all their energy into ringing, way too early in the morning. 

Mind getting the door while I’m getting dressed ? Marshall asked with a groan. I swear, if it’s the damn neighbor about her stupid bake sale again… 

I’ll get it, you said with a yawn. She’s been annoying me too, you know ? And it’s not even 7AM… Who does that ?! 

That woman is crazy, he sighed. Met her twenty years ago and she was already a nightmare. She was convinced I’d bring drugs and crime into her precious neighborhood. Even warned me that she’d call the cops if she saw prostitutes around… 

You giggled and went to open the door, ready to tell Mrs Davis to leave you alone. But much to your surprise, you were greeted my Jamal’s face. He was not smiling as usual, immediately telling you that something was wrong. 

What’s up, Jamal ? You asked. What are you doing here so early ? Its there anything wrong ? Is it about Talia ? The baby…?

Em here ? He asked dryly. 

Yeah he’s getting dressed…, you replied. Oh, there he is.

What’s up, man ? Marshall asked as he came to greet Jamal. 

YOU BETTER HAVE A GOOD FUCKING EXPLANATION, your friend immediately yelled at him. 

For what, man ?! Marshall asked confused. What the fuck are you going on about ? 

For the fucking track that got leaked last night ! Jamal yelled. Are you fucking serious ?! 

Wait…, Marshall began. 

Before Marshall could finish his sentence, Jamal hit him in the face. Your friend had an impressive stature and was usually a big teddy bear but, when he was furious, he was rather scary. Next thing you knew, the both of them were fighting, though, to be fair, Marshall was not putting up much of a fight. Jamal was much taller, much bigger than him. You had no choice but to get in there and try and separate them. 

Jamal, let go of him ! You pleaded. 

I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKER, Jamal screamed. 

What the fuck, man ?! Marshall asked as he was panting. 

Y/N, take your bags, Jamal directed. 

What the hell ?! You asked. It’s not even 7AM, Jamal ! You don’t get to barge in her-

I’m not leaving you with that psycho, Jamal spat. 

What the fuck ?! Marshall yelled. Babe, I have no idea what he’s talking about. 

YOU FUCKING NAME DROPPED HER IN A TRACK, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, Jamal yelled. YOU FUCKING RAPPED ABOUT TORTURING HER ! 

You looked at Marshall with a confused face. His face was bruised and scraped, definitely not a pretty sight. What was most shocking, though, was the look of terror on his face. 

Oh fuck, Marshall said under his breath. 

[misshollowayss]

speak on richie gimme my BOYFIE

because i love u sm, and also love him, I COME BRINGING GIFTS <33333

cw: contains mentions of bullying, drug/substance abuse, the concept of grief. tw: drug/substance abuse. note: this is my headcannon(s) regarding the lipschitz/matthew family tree- you do not have to agree with me, just be respectful!

NOW THATS OUTTA THE WAYYYYY, time to talk about the world’s worst weeaboo.

RICHARD ‘RICHIE’ LIPSCHITZ is featured in nerdy prudes must die, and workin’ boys. he’s played by the legendary jon matteson and he brings a refreshing take on the anime obsessed best friend.

𝙰͟ 𝚂͟𝚃͟𝚄͟𝙳͟𝚈͟ 𝙸͟𝙽͟ :͟ ͟ ͟ ͟ growing up thinking that you were at fault for everything in your life, finding safety in fiction, selfshipping with your waifus and husbandos as a means to compensate for something, being chronically ill, being apart of a tight-knit friend group, being cringe equating to being free.

─┈ㅤ ⠀RICHARD LIPSCHITZ was born on january 17th, alongside his twin brother, trevor at 21:30. jessica ‘jessie��� matthews had given birth, albeit, surprisingly even though her physical and mental health was actively depleting due to her history of addiction. richard, born first with weak lungs had been sent to the NICU, shortly after the birth of his younger twin brother. jessica had watched as her babies were transported to another room. their father was not present at all during the birth, yet they took his last name. he never came around after that.

for everyone in the matthews household, the birth of richie and trevor was a happy event. joanne and gavin came quickly to see their grandsons and fawned over the beautiful boys. sleeping soundly, beside each other in their own bassinets.

growing up, richie had known for the longest time that he and his brother would be different. they may have been identical, but they were opposites as can be. trevor was more sociable, outgoing and energetic. richie, was different though. richie, at a young age, would remain to the sidelines, finding comfort with his books and himself. he was awkward, and he didn't care for many things. joanne, his grandmother often commented on how richie reminded her of his uncle, paul. on top of his awkward tendencies, he made often hospital visits for his asthma and soon his hyperhydrosis ( overactive sweat glands ).

jessica, after the boys were born had left them with her parents, relapsing into her addictions. the twins lived primarily with their grandparents, and then permanently when their mother disappeared. the boys were only five. richie didn't fully understand what would happen, and why his mother's visits became less frequent. the gifts he got that christmas were never labeled with 'from: mommy'. things were a blur for a long time. in a way, he knew he had to be at fault for her leaving. mom never came back, grandma and grandpa were sadder, uncle paul was the only one that consistently spoke to the boys. they didn’t understand anything. and richie knew, deep down, somewhere that he was the reason his mom didn’t come back.

it didn’t process properly that something happened to his mom, until duke had begun coming by. he brought a few toys for him and trevor. trevor, happy as can be, took the toys to show their grandmother just down the hall, whereas richie sat behind.

“hi richie, people call me duke, you can call me that too.” he had smiled. “hi.” when he was little, he barely had any confidence speaking with anyone that wasn’t immediate family. “i heard that there’s some big stuff going on.” “where’s my mom?” richie shook his head, confused at the notion. it’s been a few weeks, and a few people have come by. they apologized to him, but he was only five! duke had taken a moment, a breath being tucked as he said, “richie, your mom’s not coming back..” “did she go away?” “,,, yeah. yeah, she went away.” richie, as if he expected it, had nodded. “okay.”

that, was that. richie sat with those feelings that night, afraid to sleep. he was afraid to wake and be in the darkness that taunted his nightmares. whenever he’d wake from one, he’d spring up, and wipe his tears away. he couldn’t cry and go to grandma or grandpa, or even uncle paul. so he dealt, sniffling into his blankets. it had to be his fault that she didn’t come back.

jessica matthews never returned to the household, then again, she was less frequent with her visits to begin with.

despite the absence of either of his parents, he thinks he grew up well-rounded. his grandparents did everything they could, raising three children with a six year age gap, and the oldest being in his twenties and still staying home. he grew up as normal as can be.

whenever he was in the fourth grade, he met peter spankoffski. the two had been placed together, desks across from each other. richie had seen the star wars stickers on the boy's binder, and scoffed. star wars was lame. it wasn't until he saw pete pull out a spiderman pencil case. richie's eyes widened before he was quick to say, "spiderman is my favorite marvel character." pete, in response, agreed, "mine too."

the two had become quick friends from that moment on. fourth grade was a trial for richie, however, max jägerman had taken target to peter and himself, duke had been coming by more to check on him and trevor, his uncle paul had been helping them move into his place. grandma and grandpa were happy with this decision, and had reassured the twins that they would always have space at their home.

unfortunately, fourth grade was around the time where books and fiction had become a more prevalent in his life. he was introduced to manga around this time. his first manga was, in fact, attack on titan. he had picked up the book, intrigued as to why the monster on the cover was an anatomic horror show. he was enthralled, and quickly engrossed himself in everything revolving around the media.

with the idea of finding comfort within a world that gigantic humanoid monsters and a military that was risking their lives for the rich hiding behind safety, richie would grow to further understand the main character: eren jäger’s need to prove himself. he even thought mikasa was a character he’d want to be with romantically ( this began his idea of selfshipping at the age of 11/12 ).

the early years of elementary school were also, the time where he had been diagnosed with autism and a few other diagnoses. GAD, depression and c-ptsd compared to his brother who received a GAD and adhd diagnosis. from early elementary, he had been with tools to help him ( however living with your uncle who also is avoidant as possible with his OWN emotions made it hard sometimes ).

as if finding his best friend in fourth grade was bad enough, he met ruth fleming in middle school ( guaranteed to be the cringiest time of his life ). the three of them had been sat in a pod together, yet again, and as if it was fate— it all clicked. the duo was fixed to their trio and ruth was a perfect addition to the group.

richie’s love for anime grew during this time, and he definitely had found a few medias that he shouldn’t ( cough, dramatical murder to list one - and hetalia ). while attack on titan remained a special interest for him and a love that’s near and dear to his heart, neon genesis evangelion also grew to the level of interest. middle school was THE time to be free— between the three of them, all of them had their things. they all had their interests that they made a goal for each of them to learn by proxy, and even when richie or pete would be the target of bullying, they all had each other.

middle school was also the steady incline of bullying for richie, being often ‘farted on’, and name calling had started. "shitlips" was the nickname that richie bore, holding that title all throughout the rest of his academic career. he'd try and rub off most of the bullying, but in the end, it's hard to stand up for yourself against the most important people in town. so he dealt, and bared whatever he could. on occasion, he'd try making himself more nerdy on purpose ( as if that'd do anything at all ).

he had gotten ahold of hairdye at thirteen. that, in itself was a mess. at thirteen, richie had braces and was self-conscious about his physical appearance. being thirteen was hard enough! that age was awful for everyone that could remember what it was like. there's something universal about it,,, unless you're max jagerman or brad callahan. then you have no room to speak.

hairdye.

hairdye was the main thing that richie had bought from walmart the last visit they had made for groceries, and held off from using it. after hours of watching videos on youtube, he went in for the kill and started the bleach. paul had come home from work to find one of his nephews downstairs doing homework, the other upstairs in the boys bathroom.

after the bleach, richie peered into the mirror, then seeing his uncle in the doorframe.

"whatcha doing?" paul asked, an amused but relatively confused smile drawing over his features. there was a moment of silence before richie blurted, "drugs?" which caused him to immediately regret that. "why would you say that when you clearly aren't doing that?" "i dunno! i panicked and got nervous. but, i'm trying to dye my hair to make brad callahan and max jägerman stop picking on me. and so i can look cool." richie admitted, deafetedly.

paul had taken another long look at the boy's now bleached hair, and took a slow breath, "what.. what color are you planning on dyeing it?"

as if he expected the question, richie pulled out a bottle of arctic fox's shade, aquamarine and swallowed. "this shade of blue. and i watched a lot of videos so i won't mess up the bathroom, i promise." he swore, when paul took the bottle from him.

giving it a closer look, his brows furrowed, then he looked back to richie with a skeptical look in his eye. "do.. you need help?" he asked.

"do you even know how to dye hair? no offense, but your hair has remained the same since you were little, uncle paul." richie gestured to the older.

"yeah, i know how to dye hair." he said before placing the bottle of dye on the counter sink and came closer, inspecting the bleach job before he looked at the empty bowl for the dye. he acted fast, popping the cap off and emptied the contents into the bowl itself.

richie didn't expect the bonding experience that the two had, but the outcome was worth it. an excitable richard with now a shock of blue hair, that matched the bands of his braces. "oh wow-! i look like aoba from dramatical murder!” that was a character he should not want to look like, but he had to give him credit for nearly all of his sexual awakening to that game. without it, he’d be probably a prude. no one wants to be a prude.

now highschool was a different story. at sixteen, richie became infatuated with film and cinematography. film in general had quickly grown to a high level interest, and because of this, he received a camcorder for his birthday. trevor received a recorder and a few other things, but richie had already begun recording. he utilized the camcorder for things such as video diaries and experimented often with recording the dnd sessions that he, pete and ruth had every two weeks. paul had done good with gifts that year, even if it was hard to properly find out what the boys wanted. trevor was easy to please, but he did have to be careful with richie's gift. needless to say, he was glad the camcorder is one of richie's prized possessions.

during highschool, the bullying worsened, but he persisted nonetheless against it. he met grace during this time, against his own will, yet again. the two would become unlikely friends, after an unexpected infodump about the waylon place from grace. then, he met didrika kumar during calculus and complimented their headphones. the stickers on them were cool, but granted, the way he went about the compliment was.... not what you'd expect. i'll let you imagine how that went down specifically.

he had taken interest in the swim team, but went against the idea. richie had thought that he didn't fit the idea of a swimmer. he by no means was athletic, he was asthmatic, and was too much on occasion to be around. so the second best option? being the school's mascot.

zeke the fighting nighthawk.

his first game was during his sophmore year, and when he had put on the mask, he felt safe. there was a layer of animosity behind zeke, that richie found comfort in. not everyone knew who he was, who zeke was, really. the identity of zeke the nighthawk would never be revealed, and his predecessor before him ( the senior that graduated two years before him; dylan grahm ) had said that people would try to find out his identity. true, there were people who did, but not everyone cared. the fact that not everyone cared made him feel better, he didn't have to meet everyone's expectations. he was just richie, richie who just so happened to be the biggest part of the football team ( minus the qb, max jägerman ).

there was an incident, about half-way through the football season, during halftime, richie had been doing well, getting the student section as loud as they can, the cheerleaders riled up as much as they could... but, he wasn't looking when he had tripped over his own feet and fell square on his face. thankfully the mask didn't come off, but that was forever marked as THE worst moment he could've ever handled. unfortunately, this did garner negative attention from max, and brad.

bullying, as i said, progressed. now namecalling had evolved into physical attacks. flick-it tickets, and being punched in the gut from time to time! it was,, a time and richie had hated coming home from school with fresh bruises that he didn't know how to explain. so, he'd hide in his room on more occasion. he didn't want to worry his uncle. that was the last thing on his list.

at seventeen, he had his braces taken off and relief had washed over him in the dental chair. by this point, he and didrika had been together for nearly a year, and let's also just say, they matched each other's freaks. over the summer, he witnessed pete and the mayor's daughter, stephanie lauter blossom into,, a romance. they said abstinence camp brought them together. weird.

by senior year, when he thought life couldn't throw anymore hurdles at him, he didn't expect didi's friend, evangaline goodreau, to be with him??? it was an awkward intergration, considering earlier in the year they had planned a prank on max before. thank god he jumped away before the floor fully gave out beneath him. how bad would it be if the quarterback of the hatchetfield nighthawks got seriously injured? or worse-

but, as tense as the new addition was, the nerds had grown into a large group! himself, ruth, pete, steph, didrika, eva, max ( and soon grace ). they'd be awkward, loud, rambunctious even as a group, but it'd lead to so many amazing moments that richie would catch on his camcorder. between TNTL in pete's backyard, d&d sessions, sleepovers, and even the conversations that'd come up in lunch, richie was glad for all that came his way. hey, at least it's better than... well, you know.

now, at eighteen, he plans to go into school for film study or even graphic design. he's an avid listener of 𝗦͟𝗪͟𝗜͟𝗡͟𝗚͟𝗜͟𝗡͟' 𝗧͟𝗛͟𝗘͟ 𝗛͟𝗔͟𝗧͟𝗖͟𝗛͟𝗘͟𝗧, a podcast that didi and steph showed the group. he's apart of the mathletes, the GSA, and the school's broadcast team. he still lives with his uncle and his brother, but now, paul has a girlfriend, the crabby barista from beanies. trevor has a,, boyfriend? he doesn't know. and yes, he still actively wears anime merch proudly, and still sports that shock of blue. highschool was killing him, but he thinks that it's gearing towards something better... at least he hopes so.

AAAA THERE YOU GO!!! so i will say, that this is set in a timeline in which, max never died, therefore richie and ruth never did either!! however, there are still some crazy stuff that happens in this au hehehe. i hope you guys enjoyed!!

RICHIE GRAPHIC : made by yours truly ( me! ). if you guys like this, i'll make more for other characters!! i might make a section in my intro for graphic rqs! idk yet tho!

[nobodysdaydreams]

Ramble about a wolf 359 character, if you’d like :D

Oh boy oh boy oh boy.

There's so many. There's so many.

I don't want to spoil anything. But I will rant about my boy Douglas Fernand Eiffel, because I relate to him a TON as someone with ADHD and also, he's hilarious and a fantastic character. He's one of the most characters of all time.

He was born on Christmas and hates Christmas, which is a pity for him because his boss (the one that is directly above him, the good one) LOVES Christmas and forces him to celebrate it. He's in his 30's (at the time of the podcast, born December 25th, 1982) but acts like a teenager. He's had jobs as a provisional technical sergeant for the United States Air Force, a private surveillance consultant, and a delivery guy for Pizza Hut. He was fired from all of them. Now he's in space picking up radio signals from aliens while he sends them daily video diaries complaining about all the work he has to do and making silly jokes and pop culture references. He thinks he's talking to himself the whole time despite all the episodes foreshadowing the theme that someone is always listening.

Since I know you're a TMBS fan who reads my fic, I'll add that he's also a blend of Milligan and Garrison in the strangest, and yet best of ways. He was in jail and he deserved it, but he regrets everything he did so much and you feel horrible for him. He got in a fight with his ex-girlfriend after he relapsed and lost custody of his daughter. He'll do anything to avoid doing his job, and yet he is also the crew's moral compass despite ironically being a convicted criminal (he is guilty of his crimes and was bailed out of prison on the condition that he work for Goddard and complete this mission). He tries to smoke cigarettes in space. He loves comic books. He needs ADHD meds. He's an alcoholic. He's a fake music professor. He's a Texas cowboy fighting against the control of the man (his direct supervisor, who is a woman). He's the only man that can save the world (him being born on Christmas is savior foreshadowing, very subtle as you can see). He can't take anything seriously, yet sometimes he's the only one who understands the moral ramifications of certain situations. He's obsessed with Star Wars but hates the prequels and is fine with them being erased from his mind (the podcast came out just before the sequels, and they don't get updates from Earth, so Doug doesn't know about them). It's also very ironic he hates the prequels as a lot of Doug's story follows Anakin's (being a bad dad who permanently disables his child but comes through for his kid in the end, being the foreshadowed "guy who saves everyone").

His best friend is his angry boss (direct supervisor) who goes from being constantly annoyed by him to thinking of him as her best. His other best friend is a robot who sees and hears everything he does and helps host his fake radio show. He does a reverse Milligan where he remembers his long-lost daughter and then he forgets her forever. His enemies are a Russian scientist who also has a bad relationship with his family, a whiskey-loving fellow alcoholic, and a creepy businessman who also can't take things seriously and has a "work wife" with the same voice as Doug's robot AI best friend, so even Doug's enemies are all weird reflections of different aspects of himself.

I hope this was enough. Sorry it's not as organized or coherent as Sophie's, but I hope you like it!

[gloomysoup]

when the world stops turning (my heart stops beating) - pt. 3

happy holidays to all who celebrate! as it stands, i'm posting this on christmas eve after a full evening with my dad's mom and his siblings and all my cousins, before i go to bed to deal with even more family all day tomorrow (we have my mom's side in the morning for brunch and then my dad's dad's house in the late afternoon/evening) BUT i did FINALLY get this part figured out and i couldn't wait to share it! i would apologize, but we all know i'm not actually sorry... oops

anyway i hope you all enjoy it!

ao3 pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

cw: mentions and discussions of drug use, addiction, sobriety, relapse, referenced overdose, etc. y'know, the usual

The first time Steve ever got high, he was fourteen. Tommy had scored some weed off one of the older basketball guys, Steve’s parents were gone for a weekend. It was perfect. Steve, Tommy, and Carol laid back on the roof of Steve’s childhood home, overlooking the blue glow of the pool and the line of trees beyond the yard, passing a joint back and forth. It was a warm buzz, making his head go all fuzzy. It was nice. Until it wasn't, at least. He liked the feeling of being high. What he didn't like was what came after.

The comedown from that first high was rough, to say the least. Carol was fine; Steve didn't know why it didn't affect her as badly. Steve and Tommy, however, were not so lucky.

It was a while before he ever smoked weed again. He never did anything more than that, though there were plenty of opportunities. And he never smoked alone. It was always parties, or hang outs with Tommy and Carol. It slowed down when he met Nancy. She wasn't a fan of drugs, and always asked him to stop. He never could, but he definitely cut back. Then Nancy shattered his heart, so he picked it back up again. Started smoking on his own. Anything to chase the free feeling of the high. He spent so many nights trying to escape his nightmares and heavy thoughts. He smoked until his head was floating in the clouds. He kept the high until he ultimately passed out, hard, into a fairly dreamless sleep.

And then Starcourt happened.

That was a different high. Slower. It was loose lips, but firm thought. Tethered, but not quite there. It took longer to hit the peak, to really float. When he finally hit it, it was the best he'd felt in a long time. And then he came crashing down. It was the worst he'd felt in his life, aside from the time Billy bashed his head in with a plate. It sucked. It ruined weed for him, if he was honest. Every time he tried after that, his body panicked. His brain would get fuzzy, he'd start to float, and then he'd seize up. His brain would shock him back into reality. He vowed, with the help of Robin, to never get high again. He would finally quit. It wasn't worth the panic attacks and anxiety and trauma response that came with it anymore. He was successful for a while, at least. He'd been sober for almost a year.

That didn't last long after the final battle with Vecna. He and Eddie were friends. They were starting to grow into a little more than that. Steve’s nightmares were awful again. His body was sore and his scars stretched uncomfortably every time he moved. It was Eddie who initially suggested weed, even though he had stopped smoking himself.

“It's actually a pretty good method for pain management,” he said with a shrug. “You just gotta be careful about it. Stick to the natural stuff.”

Eddie didn't know that Steve was sober. Steve never told him. He'd been itching for a good high again anyway; something to clear his head, take some of the pain away, get a good night’s sleep for once. Eddie had handed him an extra joint, leftover from his own stash that he hadn't touched in weeks. Steve went home that night and lit a joint for the first time in almost a year. His sobriety went down the drain, just like that. The worst part? He didn’t even regret it. Not one bit.

He didn't tell Robin. He couldn't. He knew she'd be disappointed in him. She would go back to watching him like a hawk, following him around, and never leaving him alone long enough to even think about getting high. She'd spend every night with him, just like she did those first few months before. He couldn't let her do that to herself again. Not when she was doing so well with Vickie. He wasn't going to ruin her good thing with his own problems. So Robin never knew he relapsed. And Eddie never knew that he was supposed to be sober. He never told a soul.

Steve carried it with him for years. Every time he lit a joint instead of a cigarette, he thought about Robin. Two puffs in, he wasn’t thinking about her anymore, just how nice it felt. He smoked until his head was empty and floating, and then he smoked some more. He smoked by himself a lot. Then the band got recognized, and they were all smoking again too. Steve would smoke with them any chance he got. He never told anyone the secrets he was hiding. He never told anyone the weed wasn’t quite enough anymore. He was perfectly content with what he had, sure, but some deep part of him itched for more. He got cross-faded more times than he could count, just to feel something more.

His first experience with harder drugs was at a party with the band. Their manager had gotten them an invite for promotional purposes. There were supposed to be some high-end producers and such they wanted to network with, and Steve always went with them to these sorts of things. It was innocent, at first. Steve stepped out on the back deck of whatever big shot artist’s house they were at to light a cigarette while Eddie talked music with some people in the living room.

He took a deep inhale, feeling the nicotine saturate his lungs before he blew out the smoke. What he really wanted was some weed, but Eddie had it all on him and Steve didn't want to bother them. This was good for the band. They needed this. Still, a cigarette couldn't only do so much for the itch under Steve’s skin. He had a beer on the railing in front of him, but that's not what he needed. He took another inhale, holding it, hoping it would keep him satisfied until Eddie brought him a joint. It wasn't really working, but Steve was trying to convince himself otherwise.

“Mind if I join you?”

Steve turned to see a slightly older man standing in the doorway. He vaguely recognized him as another musician, but couldn't place his name. “No, not at all. Honestly, I could probably use the company.”

The man nodded and stepped onto the deck, closing the sliding glass door behind him. He took up a place beside Steve, holding out his hand. “Billy.”

Steve laughed at the irony and took his hand. “Of course you are. I'm Steve.”

Billy gave him a curious look. “Something wrong with my name, Steve?”

He shook his head. “No, not at all. It's just a little funny, I guess. I knew a guy named Billy once. Broke a plate over my head, gave me a nasty concussion, and then he died a few months later in a fire at the mall I used to work at. The universe likes to have a good laugh, apparently.”

“Ah, yeah, I'd probably feel the same way then.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a joint, gesturing toward Steve. “Mind if I light?”

“Only if you share,” Steve replied with a laugh before taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Of course, man.” Steve watched Billy pull a lighter from his pocket and light the joint, taking a puff before holding it out toward Steve.

Steve stubbed out his cigarette on the wood railing before taking the joint between his fingers. He took a deep drag, holding it for one, two, three seconds, and then breathing it out slowly. He looked up at the stars as he passed it back. “God, that's exactly what I needed.”

“Tough day?”

Steve shrugged. “More like a tough life. I'd usually be smoking by now anyway, but my, uh, friend has all the weed on him. He's busy talkin’ shop with some other music guys in there, and I didn't wanna bother them. It's important to him.”

“Not your scene then, I take it?”

Steve huffed, taking the joint back between his fingers. “I'm more… emotional support for his band, I guess. Though, I'm not sure they ever needed it. They do just fine on their own.”

“I'm sure they appreciate it anyway.” Billy glanced back at the house as he took the last drag before putting it out. “What do you say we go back in, Steve? I know a guy upstairs with something a little better than weed, if you're interested.”

“Hell, at this point, I might try just about anything. I don't do needles, though. Bad experiences and all.”

Billy laughed and motioned with his head. “Promise, no needles unless you ask.”

“Lead the way, then.”

Steve was floating on the best high of his life. He didn't know how much time had passed, but he didn't really care. He hung out upstairs with Billy and some other industry people for God only knows how long, smoking and laughing and snorting lines of cocaine. Eventually, Steve stumbled his way back downstairs with Billy, laughing the whole way. He bumped into Eddie, physically running into his back where he was scanning the house.

Eddie turned and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, holding him up. “There you are. I was wondering where you went.”

“Eddie!” Steve exclaimed, grinning brightly. He turned to Billy, who had his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Billy, Billy, this is him. This is Eddie.”

“Oh, yeah! So you're Eddie! You've- you've got a good one, man. Steve's such a riot.”

Eddie seemed taken aback at first, looking between the two of them. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in Steve’s slightly disheveled appearance and wide eyes. “Steve, are you high right now?”

Steve giggled, leaning his face into Eddie’s neck. “Soooo high, baby. I feel great.”

“Alright, I think it's time we go home,” Eddie declared. “Come on, let's go find the guys.”

“But I don't wanna leave,” Steve whined with a pout. “I wanna dance, Eddie. Can't we dance? Please?”

“We can dance at home, Steve. Come on. It's time to go.”

“No fun,” he huffed.

“Steve, look, here, I’ll give you my number,” Billy said, still leaning heavily against him. “You call me. We’ll hang out again sometime, yeah?”

“Definitely. Definitely do that.”

It took Eddie fifteen minutes to drag Steve through the house and track down the rest of his friends. When they found the rest of them, Jeff frowned at Steve.

“What's up with him? Is he okay?”

“Apparently the whole time we were talking to that producer, my boyfriend was getting high off his ass with Billy Corgan. I'm sure he’ll be fine once he sleeps it off.”

“Wait, Billy Corgan?” Gareth asked, eyes wide. “Like the Billy Corgan of The Smashing Pumpkins?”

“Apparently they're best friends now.”

“Oh, yeah, Billy’s great,” Steve said through another bout of giggles, leaning all his body weight on Eddie. He cupped his hand around his mouth to whisper, but it wasn't really a whisper. “He knows who has all the good shit, guys.”

“Okay, he is really high,” Grant said. “Guess that's our cue to leave?”

“I don't care if you guys want to stay, but I'm taking Steve home. Just didn't wanna leave without letting you know.”

When Steve and Eddie finally got back to the apartment, Steve sloppily kissed Eddie in the entryway. His hand slipped under Eddie’s shirt, but Eddie pulled him back.

“Baby, no, not tonight,” he murmured. He pushed a lock of hair from Steve’s face. “You're too high for that right now. You need sleep.”

“Want you, though,” Steve whispered, ducking down to suck at his jaw and throat.

“Steve, no. I'm serious. You need to sleep this off.”

Steve huffed, a pout on his full lips. Eddie kissed him softly before wrapping his arm around his waist and leading him to the bedroom. Steve slumped back against the bed immediately upon impact. Eddie carefully and gently undressed him before tucking him into bed. He brought a water bottle and some meds for the morning, placed them on the bedside table, and then changed his own clothes. Steve was out like a light, snoring softly. Eddie held him all night, unable to sleep. He'd never seen Steve get that high before. Part of him worried it was more than weed, but he trusted Steve. He'd ask him in the morning, but he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. He didn't think Steve would do more than that. He didn't think he had to worry.

The next morning, Eddie made sure Steve was safe and okay before bringing it up.

“So, last night,” he said over breakfast, poking around at the scrambled eggs he'd whipped up for them.

“Oh, right! How'd it go with that, what was he, a producer?”

“It was fine, but that's not what I'm talking about, Steve.”

Steve frowned. “What is it then?”

Eddie swallowed, not looking at Steve. “You were really high when I finally found you after you wandered off. I need you to be honest, Steve. What did you take?”

“It was weed, Ed. Strong weed, but just weed.”

“You promise?” He looked up, meeting Steve’s eyes. “You promise it's just weed, Steve? I can’t- You have to understand how dangerous that other shit is. I can't lose you to it.”

Steve smiled so easily, like he wasn't lying right to Eddie’s face. Like he didn't have a baggie of coke in the pocket of his jeans, which were laying on the bedroom floor. “I promise that's all it is.”

And Eddie believed him, like an idiot. He trusted him, because it was so easy to fall for those eyes and that smile. He didn't think Steve would ever do anything like that. He had no reason to believe otherwise. He didn't know that Steve had been sober for almost a year before that spring break from Hell.

Steve lied for years, to everyone. He was good at it. It was easy. He didn't even think twice before the lies tumbled past his lips. The problem was how simple it was to score. How easy. He never had to turn far. He was listed as a personal assistant to the band. He was handing drugs to pass on to them all the time, but Corroded Coffin didn't do any of that stuff. They always turned it down. They knew what it did to people, especially in the industry. It was a dangerous thing. Every time the members ignored the drugs being passed to them, Steve slipped them in his pocket instead. No one ever noticed. The more fame and recognition the band got, the easier it became for Steve to score whatever he wanted. Pills, tabs, cocaine, heroin, the works. He never strayed far from coke and pills, still wary of needles from the Russians, but it was a high he couldn't get with weed alone. It was addicting. He wouldn't have been able to stop on his own even if he wanted to.

He snuck off to do a line or two every chance he got. If the band’s backs were turned for even a few seconds, he was popping a couple of colorful pills. He smoked weed every other night, whenever Eddie wanted to smoke. He smoked on his own occasionally, slowing down his body through the rush of a good high. It was nothing like he’d ever experienced before, and he couldn't get enough of it.

Then he was at the biggest show of Eddie’s career. Sold out at Madison Square Garden. Roaring crowds, electricity flowing through Steve’s veins. He was only going to do a quick line. He just wanted to keep the energy, soothe the itch. One line turned to two, then three, then some pills. Then everything went dark.

The first thought to cross his mind as his vision tunneled and his body began to shut down was that he should have told them the truth. He never should have lied to Eddie, or Robin. He never should have taken that joint from Eddie all those years ago. He should still be sober. But he wasn't, and now he was going to die, and it's his own fault. He fell to his vices. He didn't talk to Robin, like he always promised he would do if the urges came back. Instead, he got into the harder stuff, and now it was going to kill him. The clock had finally run out. The Reaper was knocking on his door.

That would be the end of Steve Harrington.

-----

tag list: @mugloversonly @djohawke @acowardinmordor @hallucinatedjosten @geekyfifi @slowandsteddie @estrellami-1 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @canmargesimpson

(if you saw this upload twice no you didn't. i definitely didn't forget the tag list)

[equallyshaw]

through thick and thin, always | mat barzal

not too sure if i wanna do gif's or pictures like that above..trying something new out (:

warnings: mental health struggles and ed talk.

word count: 2.9k+

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

trigger warning: relapse in an eating disorder, but not to graphic! talks of therapy and past shame/guilt.

della's mental health struggles had been brewing for some time, long before she ever met mat. when she met mat, her mental health improved along with her self-esteem just by the sheer fact that she was dating somebody. however, this year's fall rolled around it seemed as if everyone, every situation, and herself were against her. with having the luxury of working from home 5 days a week, she was alone a lot and in turn, had oh so much time for her thoughts to feast on her self esteem. for the first time in almost 6 years she'd had the urge to restrict. she kept reminding herself that her habit got her nowhere all those years ago, but she had that hopeful optimism that it would be different this time. a few days before christmas, sydney was hosting a holiday party for the last game before christmas and she noticed something very off with her good friend. her friend drowned herself in the alcohol that was provided and not much of the food that sat out. della felt very uncomfortable, she felt like none of her clothes fit right over her bones and curves, she felt like the odd man out seeing everybody wearing the clothes she desperately wished she could, though knew she might never be able to. she thought about how mat looked at her, and what he thought of her physically. she felt like she wasn't good enough for him, even after almost three years together.

sydney watched as the girl sipped on her wine whilst looking out at the backyard as snow fell, and felt her heart fall. she made her way over, and wrapped an a soft arm around the girl's back. "you good, dells?" sydney asked and della nodded. "ofcourse, why wouldn't i be?" she mused putting on a fake smile. "well..you've barely watched the game and i just wanted to make sure you were good. that's all." sydney said and della nodded. "yeah! sorry, been busy with work and just trying to clear my head a bit." della said, the perfect smile enchanting her pale skin. sydney nodded, "well lets go to the kitchen, the girls are snacking away right now." and della frowned. "i-i think im heading out now. i have a deadline tomorrow and i wanna make sure i have it done on time." della said as the two walked towards the kitchen. "oh, okay. no worries, please let me know when you get home." sydney said pulling her into a hug. one that della needed desperately after a 2 week road trip. "ofcourse, syd." della hummed before putting on her coat and walking outside. della quickly made her way to the car, feeling her headache grow as the alcohol was continuously hitting her empty stomach. she sighed, as she got into the car and chewed on her lip. she looked at her lap, and felt the tears finally poured over onto her cheeks. she made her way back to her townhouse a few neighborhoods over and sat in the garage that seemed like an hour.

her mind and thoughts were racing with what she did that evening, how much she drank, and spoke, how many excuses she made and white lies that were said. she thought about how sydney had looked at her, with pity? remorse? concern? della did not have much more time to think before her phone began to ring. mat's name popped up and she let it go to voicemail, most likely wondering where she was. she had said she'd be at syd's for the evening and some of the guys were stopping by there afterward.

for the first time in years, she truly hated herself. hated how she looked to herself and to others. her body dysmorphia crippling her once more. she got out of the car, and headed inside and was greeted by her corgi, 'poppy' and quickly kneeled down to be on her level. she curled up into a ball with poppy and sobbed. realizing how bad it was getting again, and it made her guilty because of how much progress she'd made. "why poppy? why does it always have to come back at the worst times?" della mumbled, as poppy laid on her chest now. her phone began to ring again and a few texts came in, but della did not budge to look. she got up, ripping her coat off feeling suffocated. she threw it on the ground towards the garage door and headed towards the kitchen to grab more alcohol. as she was pouring herself some more wine, she heard a knock on her door. she sighed, walking over towards the front door saw her neighbor and now good friend lea. "saw you pull in, hun. brought some goodies over." and once della saw the dark chocolate peppermint bark, she knew she was a goner. "come on in." della hummed, and poppy quickly greeted the redhead. "whats the most expensive wine you own, doing out?" lea questioned as she walked into the kitchen and della nodded. "cuz the world hates me as much as i hate myself." she murmured and lea frowned. "is it bad again?" she questioned her friend and della nodded, looking down as her lip quivered. "have you told mat?" lea questioned softly and della shook her had. lea quickly wrapped her arms around her friend, allowing her to cry. "if i-i tell him, he'll break up with me. nobody wants to date somebody that is sick. that's so mentally fucked u-up." della sobbed and lea shook her head. "della, that man loves you. just absolutely adores you babe. you dont need to tell him tonight but please at some point.." lea trailed off and della knew she had to. "i just need to prepare myself for the chance he does though, i have too." della said pulling back just a bit and lea nodded softly. "ofcourse babes." and della eyed the bark. but instead, grabbed the wine bottle and glass and headed towards her bedroom with lea following with another glass and poppy.

_

it was the next morning, and della had the absolute worst hungover she'd had in a long while. with no food in her system, her stomach was also in shambles. lea was sound asleep on mat's side of the bed with poppy sleeping at their feet. the wine bottle sat empty next to della's side with a half bottle of tequila wiped clean. della rubbed her temples before feeling her stomach begin to churn. she quickly headed over towards the ensemble washroom and chucked the liquid coming up. she heaved for a few seconds before laying down face first on the cool tile. she growled as her phone begin to ring once more, and as it finished it began to ring once more. "fucking mat, leave us alone." lea said as she woke up, declining the call.

mat grew nervous and a bit frustrated with the call going to voicemail once more, he'd been trying all night and now morning with no luck. sydney had said she left in a hurry to finish up some work and made it seem like she wanted to be alone. mat wouldn't bother her unless she said something to him, not wanting to get in the way of her rapid deadlines. he made his way out of his condo and drove to get some coffee and a breakfast sandwich for the girl before heading over to her place. if she wasn't going to pick up, he'd be going to her.

della walked downstairs with lea, carrying the glasses and alcohol bottles down with them. the bark lay uneaten on the counter, and della had the urge to grab the tin and stuff her mouth with as much as she could. she was fighting the urge to completely binge till her heart could content, and lea noticed. "ill keep this nice and cozy until you say something. ok?" lea said taking the tin and della sighed in content. "thanks." she mumbled, leaning over to feed poppy. "ill call you later, im gonna shower and see how far i last before i need to nap." della said hugging the redhead who nodded. "okay, let me know if you need anything. i mean it, you send the word and ill come running." she hummed and della giggled. "thanks lea." she said walking her to the front door, and as lea opened it she stopped frozen seeing the 6 foot hockey player at the door, his set of keys in his mouth as he tried to open the door. "morning barzal." lea said stepping across the threshold and past the tall dude. della did not say anything but open the door wider for him to enter. he stepped inside the warm house, pressing a kiss to her temple. and in doing so, noticed her under eye circles, her face looking gaunt and her eyes red and puffy. his eyebrows crinkled, as he set down the coffees and sandwiches on the table next to the door, concern flooding his entire body.

"della rae-" he said placing his hands softly on her pale cheeks, inspecting her from top to bottom. she'd lost weight, a good amount since the last time they had spent a substantial amount of time together; which was now almost a month ago. she shut her eyes not wanting to meet his questionable eye and worrying face. it was beginning to click for mat, and in the instant he realized, he pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug. fearing that if he let go, he'd lose her even more. she felt loose tears fall down her cheeks onto his shirt, and she let out a soft whimper. that only made him pull her in tighter. things were now clicking for him, why she was barely responding to his sister's text, why she was also not responding to his texts and phone calls like she once had. and finally, the suspicions that sydney had the previous evening, were correct. "im sorry matty." she whispered against his chest, and he pulled back just a bit to look at her. he shook his head as she looked up with fear written across her face. "im sorry im a mess...and that im sick. im so sorry." she said clenching her eyes shut whilst sniffling, with mat wiping her tears away. "never apologize della, don't apologize for this. it isn't your fault- at all. i promise you that." he said as she reopened her eyes. as guilt and hunger washed over her once more, she looked to the side and saw the coffees and then looked back at mat, "can i take those?" she mumbled and he nodded softly. "you don't ever have to ask, hun." he said as she stepped out of his arms and around him. she took the coffee and sandwich, holding them close to her chest and headed into the small living room that had a small library, fireplace, and a plush couch. mat followed suit with his and followed her into the room, sitting down next to her. but leaving just a bit of room between the two.

she stared at the sandwich bag, as she held the coffee straw near her lips wanting to fight the urge but knew she needed to eat. "i need help mat.." she said defeatedly as she stared at the bag. mat looked over with a worried look and demeanor, and took notice of the staredown she had with her coffee. he set his coffee down, and took her's as well, and placed it on the coffee table in front of them. he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. she took in the familiar warmth that he had. "im sorry I've been distant recently...i just have been so consumed with it all and because of it i've been exhausted." she said softly and mat kissed the top of her head. "i noticed something was off..when we went to thanksgiving with your family. i sensed something was off because every time i tried...tried looking at you you would look away or at the ground. it hurt me. it made me feel like you were embarrassed or guilty of something and i-i should have noticed it. and im sorry, i didn't." he said biting the inside of his cheek, trying to not cry. della's heart broke hearing how much it hurt him that she was very distant at thanksgiving. she was hoping he wouldn't notice and chalk it up to the many conversations she had found herself engrossed in.

"i love you della rae... nothing is going to change that. no matter how complicated this may get." he said feeling her tense up somewhat at his confession. she nodded into his chest, feeling him tighten his arms around her.

_

christmas, new years and valentines had rolled around with anxiety and apprehension as della progressed through therapy. after christmas, mat took the week leading up to new years off to be there for della as well as all star break + by week. della was grateful to have him in the house as she returned to work and basked in his presence before he headed back on the road. when he left, sydney and some of the other girls took turns coming over and bringing her out whenever she could. she accredited a lot to those girls, and added them to her list of why she should strive for recovery.

it was now playoffs time, and for the first time in a long while she was excited to head to a home game. when sydney had let the girls know that the jackets were being ordered, she jumped at the opportunity to get one. mat's heart was all fuzzy and warm when she showed him it right before they headed out. she did a little twirl for him and a few poses, before they shared a kiss. "oh!" he said remembering to grab what he'd been saving for some time, and as della headed out to start the car; mat ran to go get it.

the two made their way down to the arena and as she was about to drop mat at the players entrance, he paused and pulled out a letter of sorts for della. "i uh..I've been keeping this for a while not sure when to give it and whatnot, but seeing you tonight and how excited you were to put on the jacket which i know is something that you've been insecure about in the past.." he trailed off pausing to place the letter in her hands. "im so incredibly proud of how far you've come in these short few months, and i just wanted to write something down. i wasn't even going to give it to you but tonight, i just have this feeling of immense pride della rae. but uh..yeah ill see you later. ok?" he said placing a peck on her cheek. she smiled, watching him open the door and hop out. "good luck hun." she smiled widely and as mat looked at her once more, he saw the genuine smile he'd missed dearly. he nodded before shutting the door and heading towards the entrance. she pulled off into the family and friends parking lot and stared down at the letter. her heart swelled, just thinking about what the contents of the letter were.

she pulled it open softly and carefully, as to not rip the letter. she smiled softly at the handwritten note and read it slowly. words of encouragement, words of pride, and love. words of sadness and words of commitment. she sniffled as she finished it, completely taken back by it. she knew mat had felt all of these things, but seeing it in writing made her heart swell. he loved her deeply and without hesitation. she got out of the car and headed towards the private entrance and once sydney saw her walk through the box's entrance, she jumped up and down. della smiled as the others all made their way over to greet her. "picture time!" one of the girls cheered and sydney pulled her friend with her towards a spot in the back. "lookin good sista." she hummed and della smiled widely. pictures were taken, food was consumed along with alcohol and the up's and down's of playoff hockey was experienced that evening.

as soon as she saw mat walking into the box, she smiled widely before he kissed her quickly. "great game, matty." she said looking up at him and he smiled widely. a hard effort was fought, with a win now accredited towards the islanders. "lets head home." he said and the two walked hand in hand towards the car. mat opened the passenger door for her, and she thanked him before he shut the door.

she saw the letter sticking out of her purse, and she turned towards at who buckled. "thankyou for the letter mat, you have now idea how much i appreciate it." she said leaning over the console, and he met her in the middle. "through thick and thin always, my love will never falter for you della rae." he spoke softly before kissing the girl passionately. she melted into the kiss, before pulling away. "lets get home, we've got a lot to celebrate." she hummed running a soft thumb over his cheek.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

no tags just because its a sensitive topic!

[luvrxbunny]

aww why did yall break up

he kept lying to me :(((

he stopped vaping cus i basically begged him to, then he relapsed around christmas and lied to me abt it (straight to my face!!) i said if lie to me like that again im gonna have to leave you, i can’t trust u ect ect

then in jan i found porn in his phone that he lied to me abt even though i told him watching porn felt like cheating to me months before this

then in march he sent me a photo and in the background i saw a vape. so he then called me and said he was struggling, he didn’t hit it, and he needs my help. so i talk him thru and trust that he didn’t relapse

then like a week later i’m watching a video of him and in the background i see ANOTHER vape!!! so i say “oh we have to break up.. is that not a vape?” and he says it’s not, multiple times, makes up a lie, tries to prove the lie, lies to my face some more before finally caving cus i wasn’t believing him even a little AND THERE WAS VIDEO EVIDENCE

but ugh..

i wanna get back together w him

[stivesketch]

Would you share your headcannons for the Julie-Beau-Edyth throuple dynamic?

Thank you so much for asking! Here is a summary: Two supernaturally powerful best friends fall for a man they can easily kill.

Now context. I am writing and drawing an office AU, so all the characters I adapt are older here than in the original text. Beau is 26, Jules is 24 (keeping in the spirit of Jules being 2 years younger), and Edythe was 27 when she died.

Starting with Edythe. She is less close to the Cullens. Edie considers them to be cousins, just like the Denalis. Edythe frequently relapses into hunting bad people, barely being able to go through a year without feeding on human blood. She still tries, occasionally having golden eyes. But after a couple of relapses, Edie could not stand the thoughts of pity and guilt from the Cullens. So she left. Edythe still keeps in contact with them. She sometimes even visits for Christmas and Thanksgiving. But only as a cousin.

Edie keeps the surname out of gratitude and respect for Carine. She has also fostered friendships with other meat-eating vampires. Of course, the Volturi are in contact with her. Edie has lost track of how often senior management tried to poach her. But she has befriended wandering vampires too, such as Victoria and Lauren.

However, when Edythe met Jules at her new job in Seattle, the vampire promised herself that she would not run away. She would stand her ground, and finally become friends with a non-vampire. Edie knows that Jules is also an immortal like her. If Edythe’s new co-worker kept shifting into a bear-sized wolf, she would have a human-ish friend for the rest of her immortality.

Which brings us to Jules, who heard of the old legends, but since the Cullens did not return to Forks in this AU, Jules only started turning after the new girl arrived. Too sick to even drive back to La Push for help, answers, or guidance, Jules thought she was going to die in her studio apartment. That is until the new girl entered through her window. Jules’ apartment is on the 12th floor.

Initially furious, to the point that Jules almost shifted in her small living quarters, she calmed down once she saw Edythe’s sorrowful, guilt-stricken face. After a discussion, the two women agreed not to kill each other. Jules was even okay with Edythe drinking human blood after the vampire explained her selection criteria.

To their surprise, Jules and Edythe became fast friends. Edythe had found her immortal non-vampire friend at last. Jules had a tour guide for the supernatural world. But soon, the friendship grew beyond that. When they talked about the Star Wars prequels or whether a hundred duck-sized horses could defeat a horse-sized duck, Jules and Edythe knew they were inseparable now. And the two women would talk about cars and motorcycles a lot!

With that, we arrive at Beau. He had known Jules since childhood and hung out with her again when he returned to Forks. However, they only became best friends. After high school, the two went to different universities and lost contact. So it was to Beau’s surprise when he landed a job at the same company Jules was already in.

It was even more surprising when Jules’ new best friend acted strangely around him. The half-blank, half-apocalyptic look (Yes, it is an IWTV reference) that the Cullen girl gave him from across the office. How Edythe would ignore him one day and talk him up the next. The way her eyes would shift from honey-gold to dark crimson as the weeks rolled by. How Edythe stopped him from slipping on a wet floor when he could have sworn she was at the other end of the vast lobby.

Jules was herself, maybe a bit happier since she sees her two best friends at work now. But Beau wondered how every time they high-fived or placed hands on each other's shoulders, Jules’ skin was uncomfortably warm.

He must be imagining things. Beau decided that he probably should not dwell on it. He is best friends with the two people he admires most. Sure, Edythe and Jules are starting to get flirty with him. But right now, things are looking up.

Okay, context done! Now for some of their dynamics.

Edythe wants to shield Beau from the supernatural. Jules believes that Beau has a right to know, especially since it concerns his physical safety. Beau has some inkling that something is off, but it is a future Beau problem.

The two leading ladies do NOT want their feelings for Beau to ruin their hard-won friendship. Of course, neither has yet to confess to Beau. They still believe the man will pick up on their signals.

As for the fun stuff, Edythe and Julie are 100% doms & Beau is 100% a sub. The two women love teasing Beau & the man still cannot believe how lucky he is.

But at its core, this AU is about three best friends who love and cherish each other more than anything else. The three know that whatever happens to them romantically, they will always be friends till the end. Or not. They could all live forever :)

[reggieblk]

omg i never come on tumblr anymore and had to remember all my logins but i didn't know if u had a Twitter but saw your Tumblr linked in ur ao3 so hi

I JUST FINISHED YOUR FIC IF WE WERE LOVERS AND I HAVE SO MUCH EMOTIONS. first of all I knew I was gonna like this fic because I LOOOOVE your other fic 'equals in life (partners in death)'. i saw if we were lovers being recommended on the tomarry subreddit. I never read non magical AUs like this was forreal my first ever one!! I've never really been interested in them since I love the tension and angst harry and tom have in canon because of their backstories and shit so non magical AUs never appealed to me much for tomarry specifically but man I saw if we were lovers on reddit so i clicked on it and it sounded so interesting. I never was a theatre kid or really cared much about it but always thought it was cool and respected people who did it. hell i would love if I could do shit like that on stage LMAO but this fic sounded really good so I saved it to read! and I'm SO glad I did. I literally just finished it and now im here writing this. first of all I love how you wrote ALL these characters. I really need to bring up theo especially because I never really cared about theo as character tbh and in fics I'm usually like eh whatever but you bought SOOOO much life to his character in this fic that I literally would read a fanfiction featuring your theo lmao. I loved his personality so much even tho I'd probably punch him and get so angry at him if he was my friend because sometimes he really needs to shut the fuck up but this personality also seems to REALLY suit him and I just loved him so much. I loved all the characters!!! you just wrote them so well that I never got bored because they were all interesting!! tom and harrys relationship was the best thing ever I literally wanted to strangle them both so much I loved it. I love how much they love eachother and the PINING and SLOW BURN HAD ME SCREAMING AT MY PHONE LIKE CAN YALL FUCKIN KISS ALREADY HOLY SHIT???? and your writing was absolutely phenomenal. I didn't really know what the fuck was going on during the plays because like I said I don't know much about theatre lol but man it was so awesome to read and I could just imagine it all in my head when i was reading it 😩 also I really loved how you wrote Sirius I cried when harry called him and he relapsed but im so happy he got sober!!! I loved all the professors and how you wrote them as well. I was almost losing my shit during harrys first class with snape and im a snape lover LOL but I was like what the FUCK. later on I'm like ok nvm he cool. I loved how Dumbledore came to visit harry and tom during the Christmas break when they literally were high af LMAO. I feel like Dumbledore would smoke weed too tbh. Also this is such a specific moment but I laughed when all the students were graduating and theo made McGonagall do a fist bump with him i can picture that so well it made me Crack tf up. Ugh I just loved this fic so much I would pay you to write a sequel (jk... unless...haha...) but no fr soooo good. I am on my hands and knees praying that you have more ideas for more long tomarry fics again in the future 😭🙏🛐

oh my lord HI this ask is so nice i love love love getting comments or asks from people who literally JUST finished a fic and have so much to say about it!! it's so flattering as an author bc i get the feeling my passion for the project got spread to my readers!!

my characters....my babies.... this fic really revealed a passion i have for making people LMAO i am so happy you enjoyed these characters all together <3 there exists in my docs a version of these characters together in a canon setting and oh my shaylas... my children they're babies in it!! unfortunately that fic SUCKS so it will most likely nawt see the light of day lol sorry but trust the characters are so sweet in it

believe it or not i am by no means a theatre kid!! in fact in france we don't even have theatre at school, other than analysing texts for the more literary classes! it's just a small passion i have, love how pretentious it is! but honestly thank god most readers are not theatre kids bc i'm sure there are things in the fic that are like....girl this is bullshit... writing is like lying and pretending you know things about things when you don't lol

(dumbledore definitely used to smoke weed, but by the time in which the fic is set he most assuredly discovered edibles)

i am SO happy you discovered ethel cain via this fic!! preacher's daughter changed my life fr! however, listening to it on shuffle....a thousand years in the dungeon!! crazy behaviour i cannot lie

thank you so so much for the ask! (and sorry for the late reply) it really makes me happy seeing people like this fic in particular <33

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Precious

Gunner Jensen x reader. Takes place during Expend4bles. (moodboard)

Warning: References to alcoholism.

*****

Six months sober. And for what?

Gunner glares at the small glass placed on the table in front of him as if the innocuous container had caused him some grave offense, and weren’t simply something the waitress has just brought on his expressed request, the amber liquid filling it his poison of choice since he was still in school. 

He could drink it. He ordered it, the waitress brought it over, and it is now in front of him, waiting to be drunk. Well, not really, no, he corrects himself, struggling to make sense of his own thoughts in his pain-, rather than alcohol-, induced stupor; it’s just an object, lacking a will of its own, it cannot wait for something anymore than it could burst into song. 

Still, Gunner could swear there is an intention, a deliberate will, in the tiny glass recipient, a malicious, seductive voice calling to him: what are you waiting for? Drink me, you know you want it; drink me and have them fill me again, and you’ll feel better.

The scary thing, Gunner thinks with a sigh as he stares at his tiny opponent, is that it’s perfectly right.

Around him, the party in celebration of Barney’s life -not his death- is in full swing, people drinking and crying and remembering a man who was loved by many, feared by some, and respected by all. Christmas is sitting alone, Gina standing next to him; the others are scattered around the bar, each mourning in their own way. Gunner knows his case is not special, at least not among the Expendables; Barney was their leader, and each of them has a history with him, a history that saw their friend recruit them in that ragtag team of mercenaries that, Gunner is ready to bet the little he owns, will be short-lived now that its founder is dead.

Dead. Damn, Gunner still can’t believe it. Barney can’t be dead; not him, not yet. He is too strong, too smart, too… too important to die, in a shitty mission like so many others he had completed successfully. But he did; he died, and nothing will ever be the same.

Barney wouldn’t want him to drink, Gunner knows it well; Barney was proud of him when he decided to quit, supported him during his two brief but painful relapses, and even remained by his side on the nights when the thirst felt unbearable. You can do it; I have faith in you, Barney told him, squeezing his shoulder in support. He was being sincere, and this matters to Gunner more than he could explain in words. 

He’s surrounded by people he knows, including the only few people he can call friends; and yet, he has never felt more alone, and somehow… distant, as if an invisible wall had suddenly appeared around his table, separating him from the rest of the bar and its patrons. No one seems to pay him any mind, and the babble filling the room -To Barney!, repeated over and over again- sounds dull to his ears; it’s like being underwater, or the way ears don’t work properly for a little while -if one’s lucky- after a bomb has gone off in the vicinity.

The glass is still in front of him. Gunner wishes dearly someone would bump into the table and spill it, but he feels completely unable to simply stretch his hand to do it himself; if anything, his hand literally itches with the desire to grab the glass and pour its content down his throat. Then, as he always did, he would order a second, and then a third, and then some more until numbers ceased having a meaning, and the others would have to carry him home. 

No, Barney wouldn’t want him to drink, after six months of sobriety; he would be worried for him, and a little disappointed as well, even though he’d be careful not to show it. Gunner, who knows the consequences alcohol has, and had, on his life, knows he should resist, for his own sake if not for his friend’s. Alcohol has led him to levels of wretchedness he would have never come out of if not thanks to Barney’s help, and Gunner never wants to repeat that experience ever again; he’s not sure he could survive.

He doesn’t want to disappoint Barney; but Barney is dead, Gunner thinks sadly, so why does it matter since he’ll never know?

All of a sudden he wants that small glass, and its content, more intensely than he has ever wanted anything - and anyone; it won’t help, quite the opposite in fact, but only for a minute it will feel like it does, and that is enough for Gunner.

He’s exactly half a second away from reaching out to take the glass when - 

“I thought you had quit.”

He hasn’t heard you approach, but here you are, standing in front of him with your arms to your chest and a disappointed scowl that makes him feel even worse than before.

Well, not anyone.

Gunner doesn’t know what the deal is -was- between you and Barney. His friend had never manifested a particular interest in any woman in years, beside the occasional one night stand, when one day he had gone on a business trip to Los Angeles to meet his old friend Bonaparte, and when he returned you were with him. From that day on, the two of you were inseparable; you lived with him in his apartment, and one had to be blind not to see the way you immediately looked for each other when stepping in a room, not to mention the countless times each of you had risked your life to help the other. Gunner had even seen the two of you holding hands in comfort after something particularly traumatizing had happened.

You’re a valid asset to the team, your experience as a mercenary and, previously, special forces operative making you highly suited to the team; you get along mostly fine with the others, including Gunner… which, he has often reflected morosely, is only due to the fact that he’s never told you what he has come to feel for you.

He’d rather eat glass.

“I have quit.” he points out.

“So what’s that in the glass? Soda?” you ask sarcastically, a moment before you notice the glass is full, and softness fills your gaze. “Shall I take it away?”

Gunner nods, relieved. “Or drink it yourself if you want. Just… take it away from me.”

You obey, returning the untouched glass to the counter before walking back to his table; you take the chair in front of his, and that is when Gunner first notices your blood-shot eyes, the deep pain etched in your features. It’s understandable, he thinks. No one better than Gunner knows how strong you are, how resilient and headstrong; but losing the person one loves… that is something he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy.  

He tries to imagine a parallel universe in which you had been the one not returning from the mission, rather than Barney, and shudders; the mere idea is unbearable. Then he wonders if you’d be in the same state if he had been the one dying; you obviously wouldn’t, even though you’d surely mourn, and he has no reason to feel even worse, but he does… 

“How are you?” he asks softly, already aware of the extreme foolishness of his question, and you shrug in response, helpless and dismayed, like a child who has lost her way home.

“Not well.” you admit, your voice barely rising above a whisper “It… it still feels a little unreal, you know? There are still his clothes at home, and his things… any moment I expect him to come through the door to tell me we have a job, or ask if I want to get a pizza for dinner. But he’ll never come; God… I can’t believe I will never see him again…”

You cover your face with your hands, but Gunner can see your body trembling, the quiet sobs you are hiding from him -but you shouldn’t; there is nothing, no matter how private or embarrassing, he wouldn’t readily accept, and love, if it’s part of you. It’s true, more true than anything he has ever said or done or felt in his life, and while Gunner knows he could never tell you, not even in a million years, it does feel good… even though it will always be the sort of happiness that is and remains just beyond his reach- breaking his heart. 

He wishes he could hug you; a purely platonic embrace, because he’s not the sort of bastard who takes advantage of a mourning woman to cup a feeling, no matter how delicious it would be to feel your body pressed against his; the sort of hug friends share, and that he would want to receive if he were in your place. He doesn’t dare to, of course; it’s absurd, but Gunner knows how perceptive you are, and he’s sure that if you were to hug you’d perceive what he feels, what he has felt for years now, and that would ruin any chance he has to at least be and remain your friend. 

Therefore no, he can’t hug you, but after a moment of deliberation he reaches out to take your hand and squeeze it gently. He feels you shiver for a moment, but you don’t pull back. “Barney wouldn’t want you to be sad. I know it hurts, but you’ll have to find a way to go on.”

“I know; I will, and that is what scares me the most.” you admit with a sigh; you are not crying, to be honest you are more in control of yourself than many women Gunner has seen in your situation, but pain and sadness seem to almost ooze from your skin… as if you were surrounded by a black cloud of sorrow “The fact that I can go on living even though he’s no longer here. I know you all loved Barney, but for me he… well, he was my family.”

Family? Gunner’s eyes descend on your free hand, resting on the table beside the one he’s covering with his own, and while there is no golden circle on your ring finger, you are wearing a ring, a pretty little thing with a precious stone on top.

You were engaged, Gunner realises feeling more stupid than ever, probably soon to be married since Barney was not the sort of man to waste time when something was important to him. He didn’t know; did the others? Maybe it was recent -he doesn’t remember ever noticing the ring before, even though Gunner spends more of his time looking at you than he probably should- and the two of you were waiting for the right moment, or maybe you and Barney had planned to elope and then celebrate with the rest of the team later.

Whatever your plans were, they have gone up in smoke. Gunner can only imagine your pain, so he avoids asking questions, and just rubs calming circles on the back of your hand until your tears stop running, and you look at him, not smiling but still grateful. “Thank you. I am so sorry, Gunner, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s alright; you’re one of us, and we all know what you and Barney shared.”

“You’re not alone, you know that?” he murmurs, meeting your eyes; the bar is even louder than usual, but he knows you can hear him just fine “We’re all in this together. We all miss Barney, but we’re here for you. We won’t leave you alone.”

“You… you did? We… we had planned on keeping it to ourselves…”

In that case you have done a terrible job, Gunner thinks, given all the touches and looks and the ring now on your hand; still, there can be better times for that conversation.

“I know; thank you, I… I don’t know what I am going to do from tomorrow on, I can’t think about the future.” you admit softly; a brief pause follows, and then: “Do you think we can go on without him? The team, I mean.”

You sound almost scared as you speak, clearly dreading the possibility of losing your friends as well as the man you loved, and Gunner really wishes he had a better answer to give you, even though the option of lying to you, even just to make you feel better, never even crosses his mind. The truth is, you are a tight knit group, firm friends and all more than capable to keep up the good work even after losing your best man. On the other hand, Barney was your centre, your glue; not just the man who arranged the missions and made plans for all of you, but the person the others all looked to for reassurance and leadership.

“I don’t know. I… really want to, and most of the others will probably say the same, but I’m not sure we can go on now that he’s gone. The Expendables will never be the same without him; I don’t even know there can be Expendables, without Barney.”

You nod, agreeing with his judgment. “What are you going to do now?”

“I have no idea. You?”

“Well, I still have Bonaparte’s number, so I might call him and ask if he has any work for me. I still have the place where I was living in Los Angeles, so I could just come back there.”

I could come with you. Gunner thinks those words with such an intensity it’s a miracle you don’t hear them, or that you don’t at least read the sentiment on his face. Maybe this is what you need, what both of you need: a new beginning, far from sad memories. Maybe, in that apartment where you were living when Bonaparte introduced you and Barney, there’s a room for him as well, or maybe another place nearby, so that you could meet every day, have dinner together…

You are now single. He doesn’t want to think about it, to feel his heart fill with hope at the mere thought, but he does, and no matter how Gunner hates himself for that, he can’t help thinking that he might have a chance now that your relationship with Barney is over. You’ll never forget and stop loving him, and he doesn’t want you to, but maybe you’ll be able to move on and find someone else, and he has made so many mistakes in his life but God, if he really were to be so lucky as to have you want him, Gunner knows he could be worthy of it, he’d treasure you as you deserve, he’d treat you right, never look at another woman ever again and make sure every day, every moment, you know how special you are…

Stop it. You bastard, her fiancé died two days ago; how can you even think about trying to get with her? She’s in mourning, and at best you’d be taking advantage of her. 

But it’s not just a matter of time; Gunner knows it well, well enough to feel his heart break because of it. You are your own woman, a self-sufficient person with her own opinions and feelings, but you were Barney’s partner, the woman who would have been his wife had you had the time, and he… he has to respect that. Even in the highly unlikely event you actually developed feelings for him, he’d always feel like the third wheel, an intruder who -even if you got together a decade later- had waited for the woman of his dreams to have lost her man to shoot his shot with her.

He just couldn’t do it; you deserve better, and Barney does as well. In his friend’s memory, and because of the love he feels for you, Gunner promises to himself he will always take care of you, support and comfort you when you need it, but actually entering a relationship with you, or even just confessing his feelings, would feel like stealing you from the man he owes everything to. And Gunner has stooped very low in his life,  but he wants to still be proud of the man he is. 

He’s so deep in his thoughts he almost jumps when he sees you stand. “You alright?”

“I’m going home.” you explain, doing your best to smile; you have no idea how beautiful you look when you do it, and Gunner would give half of his blood to be able to tell you “I know it’s early, but… thank you for talking to me, Gunner; I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll come with you.” he immediately decides, standing from his chair; if you’re going to leave soon, he wants to spend as much time as he can with you, even if just platonically by your side, for a fifteen-minute walk home. It’s pathetic, but he can’t help it “I mean… Can I walk you home?”

You nod in response, and a moment later, after you have said your good-byes -Gunner sees the ease with which the others hug you expressing their condolences, and he feels more of an idiot than ever, since he would never dare, fearing his body and his feelings would betray him- you leave the bar together, immersing yourselves in the cold darkness of the night.

*

You’ve always liked walking outside at night, especially in a relatively silent area like the one you went to live in after moving in with Barney; it’s in those moments you feel you can think better, reflect on whatever issue is troubling you, or make a decision over which you had obsessed over for days. You usually prefer to do it alone, in order to be excused from having to make small talk; Barney is the only person whose company you enjoy on your walks, because when you’re with him, silence feels peaceful rather than tense or awkward. There is nothing you can’t talk about, no topic or matter that the two of you can’t discuss; all the same, the moments you enjoy the most are the silent ones - when you’re together, either walking side by side carrying the groceries or sitting on the sofa to enjoy a movie, his arm draped across your shoulder. In moments like this, neither feels the need to talk, because all you feel, especially for each other, is clear.

You love those moments; you cherish them, especially now that they are over forever. Barney is gone, and you’re alone, alone in your home, and alone on your walks.

Except that you aren’t, not tonight at least.

“Thank you for this.” you murmur quietly. Neither of you has spoken since you left the bar, but you’re deeply aware of Gunner’s tall frame next to you, his hands in his pockets, and the way he moves uncomfortably away every time his elbow brushes against yours “You didn’t have to, you know it’s not far.”

“It’s not a problem.” he mumbles, his eyes trained on his boots “I thought you wouldn’t… you know, want to be alone at a time like this.”

You don’t, and the fact that he was the one offering to walk you touched you deeply. You get along splendidly with all the guys, but you have always had the impression Gunner sort of dislikes you; you have no idea why, since you’ve never argued and you’ve never done anything to displease him as far as you know. Still, even though you usually get along and are able to work well together, there are moments in which he seems uncomfortable in your company, unable to even just meet your gaze; a couple of times you could have sworn he left the room just after you entered, as if he couldn’t bear to be in your presence. 

Saddened and confused, you asked for Barney’s opinion, and he grinned in response. “Don’t worry, you did nothing wrong; you just need him to grow a pair and tell you.”

Tell me what? You never knew, and Barney, who seemed deeply amused by the whole matter, refused to tell you; the doubt was more than a little frustrating… especially since you’ve started liking Gunner a little more than it would have been safe to. 

Having him by your side, his silent but solid presence a source of unexpected comfort, should make you happy, and it does - which, in turn, fills your heart with shame; what sort of woman would feel a positive emotion, of any kind, when the man she loved the most in the world has been dead for only two days? But you can’t help it, which is why you feel yourself growing tense as your unhurried walk brings you closer and closer to the apartment you once shared with Barney and that is now only yours.

“Thank you.” Gunner murmurs after a while “For stopping me from drinking; I was this close to giving up.”

“Glad I could help; and I guess it’s harder when you’re sad or angry about something, isn’t it?” you consider; then, after a brief pause: “How long have you been sober now?”

“It’s been six months last monday.”

“Wow… it’s a lot. Good job, Gunner.”

You’re sincerely impressed, and even though he’s still staring at his boots Gunner has to feel it, because he smiles - just for a second.

“I do miss him too, you know? A lot.” he adds, finally turning to look at you; he looks strangely… earnest, as if it were important to him to convince you of that truth of which you have no reason to doubt “I know Christmas was the one he was the closest, but he was my friend too; he was a great guy, and he helped me a lot.”

“I know. He loved you too, he really did.”

Silence falls again; turning a corner near a small bodega you sometimes come to when you don’t feel like driving to the supermarket you enter your neighbourhood. You’ll be home in less than five minutes, and with the realization you can feel panic rising inside you… until Gunner speaks again.

“A few years back, before you came… I hit a particularly low point in my life, and I… I betrayed the guys for a man who was the dictator of some small country far away.” he says, his voice barely rising above a whisper “I have known a lot of lows in my life, but that… that was the worst of them all; alcohol, drugs… I wasn’t myself anymore. I wasn’t thinking; I think I wasn’t even feeling. I almost killed Yang, a guy I had been friends with for years, and I felt nothing, not even shame. I was… empty; a husk, nothing more.”

You don’t answer, well aware that sort of confession just needs to be heard; this time, when your arm touches his, neither pulls back.

“Barney was the only one who still gave a shit about me. He fought for me, to have me readmitted to the team; he had seen better than anyone what I had done, how much… darkness there was in me, but he still cared; he still trusted there was something in me that was worth the effort. He saved me, and I… shit…”

He rubs a hand on his eyes, and you quickly look the other way, not wanting to intrude. “If Barney fought for you, he must have thought you were worth it.” you say; you feel strangely ill at ease, as if you had witnessed some delicate and private moment, but Gunner is hurting, and you know he doesn’t deserve to “He loved you; he considered you a dear friend. So if you’re grateful for what he did, the least you can do is to keep on living, and remain sober. You got me?”

He sniggers. “Yes ma’am…”

“Good.”

That small, fragile moment of serenity comes to a halt when your destination appears in front of you; the building is shrouded in darkness, but you can see the windows of your apartment on the second floor, and that is enough to make you tremble uncontrollably.

Gunner looks at you; he frowns. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean? Did you forget your keys?”

“No, I… I can’t go in there. Not anymore; there’s Barney’s jacket on a chair and his coffee cup on the kitchen counter… the place still smells like him…”

“(name)...”

“I can’t go in; I… I have slept in the car the last two nights, I packed a bag and went to the gym to take a shower, and I had promised I would stop, that I would return home tonight, because otherwise I’ll never be able to, but I can’t, I really… I’m scared…!”

You’re blabbing, shivering from head to toe, and worst of all, tears have started falling from your eyes; you don’t even dare to think what you look like at the moment, and you don’t care. He’s dead, dead, and you only had him for five short years, rather than the many you had hoped you’d have together. 

Your world is empty now; and no matter how much you cry, curse and throw a tantrum, nothing will change the truth. 

Gunner doesn’t speak, but when you feel his arms tentatively touching yours you give in, and a moment later you are sobbing into his shoulder, Gunner’s warm and solid body holding yours, shielding yours, gently rocking you as if you were a child needing to be comforted after a nightmare. “It’s alright.” he murmurs; your eyes meet for a moment, and the gaze you exchange is enough to make you both shiver “You’ll be alright, I promise.”

You know perfectly you never will be, no matter how many years pass there will always be a piece missing inside you, but in the pit of pain and darkness you have fallen in Gunner’s words feel like a rope pulling you to safety, and you cling desperately to them as, without fully realising it, you return his embrace, your arms circling his back. 

Time seems to stop. You’re still holding each other tight, tight enough you can feel Gunner’s heart pound against your chest; he’s warm, unexpectedly gentle as the fingers of his hand run through your hair, his deep voice murmuring words you never dreamt you’d hear him say. 

You hadn’t meant to kiss him; you could swear it on your life, you really hadn’t, and neither had he. It’s just that… it feels so good, so sweet and right, to be held in his embrace, his body close to yours, his fingers in your hair, the touch of his lips to your forehead timid but warm, full of tenderness. For the first time in two days, since you had received the phone call that had plunged your life into darkness, you feel able to breathe freely, at ease in your body, free from the frozen cold that has enveloped you.

You raise your eyes to meet Gunner’s. Thank you, you’re about to say, but then he moves his face to look at you as well, and those few millimeters make a whole world of difference. Few millimeters; that’s also what separates your mouths, little enough to make you both perceive that the other is holding their breath. Neither feels able to move…

“Gunner, I…”

“Oh, darling…”

… until you do, and those few millimeters disappear as Gunner’s chapped lips meet yours. 

It’s sweet, and hot, scorchingly so, enough to make you forget the cold, and maybe you’ll fall to the ground since your legs are trembling, if not for the strong arms still holding you in place. Gunner is kissing you, and you kiss him back, tilting your head to the side to grant him better access to your mouth, and it’s like an executioner who grants the convict a minute of reprieve; for a few short seconds the loneliness inside you recedes, and you can feel blood run in your veins again.

It stops much earlier than you wished, but it does, with Gunner who seems to have to force himself to break the kiss, and to remember how to breathe. And then, whatever shame and guilt he felt after realising the depth of his betrayal years ago, must be nothing compared to what you can see on his face now.

“Gunner…” 

“I’m sorry.” he murmurs, avoiding your eyes “Shit, I… I shouldn’t have…”

Of course he shouldn’t have, you realise with a pang; he was trying to comfort you, because he knows the extent of your pain and what you and Barney shared, and probably the closeness did the rest. He hadn’t meant to kiss you, and you were so stupid, a naive idiot, to think things might have been different, that he might have cared…

“No, I am sorry…  don’t know what has gotten into me, I didn’t mean to…” you stammer, trying to scrape up some modicum of self-respect, and quickly finding you have none left. God, and you thought you couldn’t stoop any lower… “I better go now…”

“Where? To sleep in your car again?”

“Probably. I’ll be alright, really, it’s no problem…”

Gunner sighs. “You can come to my place if you want.” he offers after a moment; he’s mumbling, and staring at his boots, again.

It has never been easy for you to accept help from others, even from friends, and doing it now, from the man who has just kissed you and immediately regretted it fills you with shame. On the other hand, he is asking…

“... sorry?”

“You can have my bed. It’s not much, but it’s warm and more comfortable than a car.”

“Oh, well… if you don’t mind…”

“I don’t. Come on, or we’ll both freeze here.”

You slowly follow Gunner down the road, neither of you speaking as you leave behind you the building shrouded in darkness and the second floor apartment that will remain empty for at least a night more.

You had never been to Gunner’s place, but it’s more or less like you expected it, and like Barney’s was when you moved in; a simple place, cosy in its own way, a large TV, an old sofa, the furniture essential and durable. 

You like it, and if the situation were different you would tell him, surely Gunner would appreciate the compliment; but things are the way they are, and so you remain silent while he shows you the bedroom -”The sheets are clean… I think…”- and the nearby bathroom.

“Make yourself at home; I’ll be on the sofa.”

“Oh, I can take the sofa…”

“Nah, you take the bed; just… call me if you need anything.”

“Oh, God, (name)...”

He can’t even look you in the eyes, and you hate yourself for it, because while you are pretty sure your kiss -that kiss that, almost half an hour later, still makes you tremble as you think about it- was mutual, you have made him uncomfortable as he was trying to support you. God, what sort of person have you become? And what would Barney think of you if he could see you now?

“I’m sorry, Gunner.” you murmur, and he, who was about to leave to retrieve a blanket and a few other things from the bedroom, turns to look at you “I’m sorry for… for what I did. I didn’t mean to… upset you, it’s just that… I feel so alone…”

For a moment -and your heart leaps- you’re sure he’s going to hug you again, but then his large, warm hands rest on your shoulders, gently rubbing up and down your arms, as if he had perceived how desperately cold you feel and wanted to help. Again.

“It’s not your fault, you hear me? You are hurting; you’re not responsible for what you do…”

“I feel so stupid…”

“God, no; you’re not stupid. You are…”

A pause.

“... precious.” he concludes, sounding a bit awkward as he does so; he swallows, and then he looks at you, and you can see him tremble “Tell me what I can do. If there’s something, anything in the world, that would make you feel better, even just for a moment, you tell me, and I’ll do it. Please, (name), I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

His desire to soothe your pain is the most important thing you could ever ask for, but the truth, no matter how guilty you feel just admitting it in the privacy of your heart, is that there is something he, and only he, could do to give you a moment of respite, a single instant of light in the darkness, but you don’t dare asking…

And you don’t have to, because Gunner only needs to look you in the eyes to understand.

You’re standing face to face in the apartment’s central corridor, muscles tense, hearts pounding, like two enemies a moment away from drawing their weapons and fire; you move at the same exact time, your hands grabbing onto Gunner’s shoulders and his cupping your face, and then you’re kissing again, and while the kiss you shared in front of your apartment was sweet, a little shy, and innocent, this is the polar opposite.

You’re both panting heavily as you let Gunner press you against the wall, and you hear him moan when your tongues meet, hungry, avid, aroused. Wasting no time, you tear his shirt open to take it off him, and you can’t hold back a gasp as you drink in the sight in front of you. Even among the Expendables, it is easy to see Gunner has an impressive physique, but now that you actually get to admire him, you feel yourself struggling to swallow: his well-defined pecs and abs, his wide, muscled shoulders, his bulging biceps… he literally looks like the realisation of all the wet dreams you had in your life, and judging from the way he’s grinning, he is well aware of the effect he’s having on you.

“Like what you see, darling?” he asks, his deep voice almost purring with lust, and then, for good measure, he lifts his arms and flexes, huge muscles bulging out; you nod, all too aware of how wet you already are.

“I’m very impressed.” you admit with a small grin as you unashamedly admire his deliciously masculine figure, and for a moment you are simply a couple of lovers like many others, who hook up for the first time, having hidden your feelings for each other for years or having met at a bar an hour before. For a short, precious moment all is fine in the world, before reality comes crashing down.

Like Gunner said, you know Barney wouldn’t want you to cry, to mourn him to the point it stops you from living your life and be happy; he’d want you to go on, learn to live without him like the strong, self-reliant woman he has always known you to be. He’d be happy to know you have started a relationship, especially with a person he had known and liked. He wouldn’t care if it had happened less than forty-eight hours after Christmas had called to inform you about his death; Barney had known pain more than anyone you know, and wouldn’t care about that sort of technicality.

You deserve a good man, or at least a good fuck, more than anyone I know, (name); he’d tell you; at first he never spoke to you like that, he avoided swearing and vulgarities, until you made it clear that he didn’t need to watch his mouth just because you were a woman and of what you shared, you wanted him to talk to you as freely, and honestly, as he did with any of his friends, if you meet someone you like, go for it; just make sure they know how lucky they are to have you.

Yes, Barney wouldn’t mind if you hd sex with Gunner, or whoever else, while his body is still warm in his casket -it’s just an expression; as usual when one of them dies the Expendables buried him in Libya, rather than bringing the body back- he would be happy you found  comfort in another person, but you can’t help it, you feel ashamed, and guilty, unworthy of what you shared, and unworthy of Gunner’s desire to comfort you. 

And yet, you can’t help it; because you do need comfort, and the only person in the world who can give it is the man in front of you, who is still kissing you, his huge frame enveloping yours as he touches you as if you were the most delicate, the most precious, thing in the world.

“Is this what you really want?” he asks, breaking the kiss whose intensity is making your head spin; despite the relative darkness of the room, his blue eyes look brighter than ever.

You bite your lip. “I know I shouldn’t, but…”

He doesn’t answer; he doesn’t need to. He just stares at you, his huge chest rising and falling as if he had run for his life, and then he takes your hand to accompany you to the bedroom you just walked out of.

“I’m not judging you, darling; far from it. I just want you to think about it now, because a minute more and I know I won’t be able to control myself.”

The raw desire in his voice, the open vulnerability those words express, are enough to make you forget all your doubts. “I want you, Gunner; I-I have for a long time; please, I need you. I need you to make it all go away.”

Neither speaks as your clothes start falling to the floor around you, your mouths meeting in a new, scorching kiss as often as they can, and soon you are both naked save for your underwear, Gunner’s large hands holding you close by the hips, close enough you can feel his turgor pressing against your stomach. The mere thought that in a minute you’ll feel it inside you makes you pant; Gunner smiles as he delicately, devotedly, kisses up and down your neck. He can see the way you look at him, but he wants more, he wants all, all of you, even if just for an hour and just because you can’t do any better. 

“You can touch me if you want.” he murmurs. He takes your hands in his and raises them to his chest, your fingers reflexively spreading over the firm, taut skin of his pectorals; you groan, arousal making you lose any ounce of control over yourself, and a moment later Gunner is holding your head in his arms as you worship his body like he deserves, your hands and mouth and -shit- tongue moving on his flesh, claiming as their own “Yeah… like this, darling... take it, take it all, it’s all for you…”  

You help him take off your bra, and then you’re lying on the bed, Gunner on all fours above you, and the ardent desire in his eyes as he -May I?- takes off your panties could almost scare you, were it not for the profound affection in his smile, the adoring look of a man who wants nothing but to serve.

For a moment, the thought that all of this is happening because Barney is dead, and Gunner wants to comfort you in your moment of need, breaks your heart; but you force yourself to banish that thought, and to focus on the beauty of the moment you are living…

And then Gunner stands on his knees to take off his pants, and any ability you ever had to speak completely abandons you beyond “Oh, my… God…”

He grins as he kicks his pants to the floor, now naked as the day he was born, and returns to loom over you, his right hand tracing the outline of your cheek. “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll be gentle.”

You nod wordlessly, thinking that it’s been a long time since you needed to be reassured like that, but Gunner is much bigger than any man you’ve ever been with, and now you’re not simply eager to have him inside you… you need it, and him, because if you don’t you might lose your mind or die…

“Please… Gunner, take me, I need you…” you murmur, and his smile is the last thing you see before Gunner lowers himself to kiss you, his hand descending from your cheek to plunge into the warm wetness between your thighs. 

*

He always thought you were beautiful, even when in pain, wounded and bruised at the end of your latest mission, but Gunner thinks you’ve never looked more breath-takingly gorgeous than you are in that moment, peacefully sleeping in his bed, the light of the sun at dawn giving your skin a golden hue. 

He pays no attention to the fact that you’re still naked, the warmth of the early morning, not to mention the one that you have exchanged during the night and that still lingers on your body, making the sheets and blankets superfluous. He can see you’re sleeping soundly, resting from the pain and sorrow that have filled your days, and he’s relieved, and even proud, that he could give it to you, even though it will never mean what he wants it to. It will never be something you have wanted, rather than just needed.  

He had known it from the start, and he accepts it; he can’t help feeling a certain bitterness about it, but he doesn’t regret it. He has had six beautiful, precious hours to hold you in his arms and give you everything he would never dare express in words, and that is enough. 

It has to be.

Sitting on the bed by your side, Gunner allows himself a minute more to admire your beauty, then he stands, retrieves his clothes from the floor, and silently moves to the kitchen to get dressed in order. He knows he has no reason to leave before you wake up, you wouldn’t want him to and after all that is his home, but he can’t bear to see your reaction when you wake up, now clear-headed, and reflect on what you shared last night. 

Would you be embarrassed? Regretful, or guilty? Would you hurry to get dressed and leave, without even meeting his eyes? Would you tell him something like listen, last night was great, but it can’t happen ever again… ?

No, thank you; slipping away like a thief from his own home sounds much better. He ties his boots, makes sure he has his keys and phone, and then glances one last time towards the bedroom. He hears you shift, maybe searching for a more comfortable position on the bed, and he could swear you are mumbling something - his name?

Or maybe Barney’s?

Gunner crosses the room and leaves the apartment, silently closing the door behind him.

*

And then, of course, it turns out Barney is not dead after all. Go figure.

He hears the two of you arguing loudly -especially on your part- in the next room before you depart, as you tell him how unacceptable it was to keep her, as well as the others, in the dark regarding the small, inconsequential matter of him being still alive. 

“Didn’t you think I deserved to know? Christ, Barney, do you have any idea of what I have been through?” he hears you scream, which proves how upset you are, since raising your voice it’s something you rarely do. Barney’s deep, soothing voice answers, and then you sob, and through the wall’s barrier Gunner could swear he hears you say his name, but he must be mistaken, because a minute later you’re joining the team together, you beaming despite the tears with Barney’s arm wrapped around your shoulders.

Gunner is overjoyed; he really is. Once Barney has explained the truth regarding the need to fake his death to reveal Ocelot’s identity, the two of them meet face to face and neither hesitates before enveloping the other in a bear hug; Gunner’s heart is heavy with emotion, and even though he’s not the sort of man who talks about feelings and stuff, he wants his friend to know how happy he is.

“I knew you weren’t dead; not even Satan himself wants you.” he jokes, his eyes misty, and Barney grins, friendly punching him in the arm.

“It’s good to be back.” he simply says, you still by his side; a moment later your eyes fall on him, and Gunner quickly looks away, despite the joy he feels unable to bear the sight of you and your man together once again. 

It’s not like he had hopes about the two of you. He didn’t regret the night you shared, both because it had helped comfort you and -more egotistically- because it had been the most intense, loving and pleasurable love-making of his life, but he had always known there was no hope for the two of you, that you’d always be Barney’s woman, and he nothing more than a friend who offers you a shoulder to cry on. He’s happy for you, of course; he really is, how could he not be, when joy is literally overflowing from your eyes as you look at the man next to you, miraculously returned from the afterlife? But as far as he is concerned, nothing has changed; he could never be your man, whether you were single or taken, so why should he feel disappointed?

But he does. He feels terrible, and guilty for it, because this is about Barney, and then you, certainly not him; so he tries to hide his pain, and to focus on the joy of having his friend, and their leader, with them again. 

You fall asleep on the plane back home, huddled on the bench with an arm bent under your cheek, which is good, because Gunner wouldn’t be able to avoid you in the confined space of the fuselage if you tried to talk to him - not that you need to, obviously, since he’s determined on doing the right thing and step aside, letting you pursue your relationship with your lover once again rather than causing trouble between the two of you.

Barney is in the cock-pit as usual, but mid-flight he asks Christmas to take his place and comes sitting just in front of him, unfortunately in the exact moment when Gunner is stealing a glance towards you, filling his eyes with the beautiful scene of your sleeping, relaxed face. You seem to be having a good dream; who knows, he wistfully thinks to himself, maybe you’re dreaming about him…

“Everything good with you, Gunner?” Barney asks, his tone deceptively relaxed; Gunner nods in response, unable to return his friend’s gaze, and then Barney grins as he brushes his fingers against your cheek.  

There is a matter he hasn’t considered, Gunner realises. Have you told him about the two of you, of what you shared? Or will you? It wouldn’t be surprising, you surely want there to be no secrets between you and your man, and Barney is reasonable enough to admit that one can’t cheat on a partner they believe to be dead - or at least Gunner hopes he is. Losing Barney’s friendship and respect because of what happened that night would fill him with guilt, but if it ended up ruining things between you and Barney he’ll never forgive himself…

With an effort, he meets Barney’s eyes; they stare at each other across the fuselage, the plane pitching around them, your sleeping form by Barney’s side -which is where you are meant to be, Gunner thinks morosely- impossible to ignore.

“Seriously, are you alright?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Right…”

The skepticism in Barney’s voice is also too intense to turn a deaf ear to, but his friend seems to decide not to insist, and the rest of the flight passes without accidents. 

*

Not wanting to spend the next days, or even longer, with that sword of Damocles hanging over his head, Gunner decides to address the issue directly with you, asking what you did, or plan to do. He doesn’t dare call you while you’re home with Barney, so he decides to wait for that night, when the whole team meets to celebrate Barney’s return in their favourite bar. 

This time, despite the anxiety, he doesn’t feel the impulse to drink; he’s tense but focused, as if he had just recovered from a long illness, ready to face whatever comes his way. He gets to the bar slightly late, and as he steps into the room, the first thing he sees is Barney sitting at the counter, next to a woman who is clearly flirting with him, her hand resting on his bicep, her cleavage in full display. 

Gunner knows Barney well enough to perceive his friend is not particularly interested in her, but on the other hand, he’s not even rebuffing the woman outright like a man in a years-long relationship should. Shit, I thought you were better than this, Gunner thinks, and he’s about to intervene when suddenly

“Hi.”

you murmur, appearing by his side seemingly out of thin air. You’re simply gorgeous in your jeans and simple top, lipstick enhancing the natural beauty of your smile, but for once Gunner wastes no time in admiring you; he tries to move to shield Barney from your sight, but you have already noticed him.

“Alice is nothing but persistent, I have to give her that.” you consider, sounding amused rather than upset, or furious, or brokenhearted, or whatever other reaction Gunner could have expected from you. 

“You…”

“Why should I? If anything, I hope he actually brings her home this time; Barney really needs to unwind after what happened.” you consider, and then notice Gunner, who is looking at you as if you had suddenly grown a second head “What’s wrong?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not… angry?”

Gunner shakes his head, suddenly appalled; he briefly wonders if he after all did drink and that’s why the world is not making any sense, but his throat is dry -very dry, suddenly- which means that no, he is sober. But then why…?

“Gunner…” your hand touches his bicep “What’s wrong?”

“Well…” he begins, carefully choosing his words “It’s just that I would probably feel upset if I saw another woman flirting with my lover, and he doing nothing to discourage her.”

You blink. “My what?”

“My lover. Your lover.”

“What lover?”

“I mean Barney.”

“Barney what?”

Is the music in the bar so loud you can’t hear him properly? “Aren’t you upset that Barney is letting another woman touch him even though he’s with you?” he finally asks, clearly and slowly as if he were talking to someone a little slow on the uptake, and finally he sees realization dawn on your face.

You blink; and for almost a minute you remain completely still, your eyes trained on Gunner, your mouth slightly open even though no word escapes them. Gunner, whose heart is pounding hard enough it hurts, can almost see the wheels turning in your brain. 

“Come with me.” you then say, grabbing his hand, and Gunner has no other choice but to follow you, until the bar’s door closes and you’re alone, standing on the sidewalk with the moon’s soft light falling on you. 

“You think… that I am Barney’s woman? That we are in a relationship?” you ask, sounding as if you had just accused him of thinking that the Earth is flat “Gunner, I can’t believe… all this time you… oh, God…”

“You… are not?” Gunner asks, completely nonplussed; anxiety is making him literally shake.

“Of course not! Gunner… Barney is my brother.” 

*

“Well, half-brother, technically, since we have the same father but different mothers; when I was born, Barney was less than one year old. Our father, who was married to his mother and was seeing mine on the side, was able to juggle having two families for almost five years, until my mother got fed up and went to the house of Barney’s parents to confront him. She had brought me with her, and he was there as well; that was the first time we met, and it was also the last for decades. While the adults screamed and threw things and exchanged threats and accusations, we simply looked at each other, both too young to understand what had happened but still aware of what we shared.

Soon after my mother and I moved to California, and I lived a pretty normal life for several years. I joined the army, then special forces, that part of my life you know. I left in my thirties to take care of my mother, who died two years later. At that point I met Bonaparte, and he brought me in the game; I started working as a mercenary, lived my life, I was happy.

Our father died when I was twenty; I heard about it from a friend of my mother who still lived here in the city. He hadn’t been a bad dad, all things considered, but he had also never made any effort to maintain a relationship with us after we had moved, not even writing, and so neither me nor my mother felt any pain for his passing. She never even wanted to mention the fact that I had a half-brother somewhere, no doubt because she wasn’t proud of that part of her life, but I never stopped thinking about Barney; I also toyed with the idea of looking for him, especially after my mother had passed, but I never thought we’d actually meet… until one night I went to a bar, a place many in our field frequented, and he was there, with Bonaparte.

We had met just once, as small children, but you know? We immediately recognised each other; it was the most thrilling moment in my life. We spent the whole night talking, and then the day after, and in the end, Barney proposed I move here with him. And the rest is history.”

*

You are now sitting side by side on the curb, the night silent around you if not for the music coming from the inside of the bar; Gunner can’t stop looking at you, at the pensive, almost dreamy expression on your face as you recount your story, which is dramatically different from anything he could have ever imagined, and forces him to reconsider truths he had until now taken from granted.

“Opposed to what, incest?” you ask, amused “Of course. He really hit it off from the very first moment. I don’t know if it’s because of our blood connection, or simply because we are similar in many ways; and maybe the fact that we ended up working independently in the same field was a sign of destiny. We became inseparable in the span of a day; Barney told me he had thought about me growing up as often as I had thought about him, and since I had nothing in particular that kept me in Los Angeles, we agreed I could move in with him so that we could spend some time together and get to know each other.”

But for me he… well, he was my family.

“So what’s between you is… just that? Family love?”

“Hmm…”

Gunner sighs; he can’t help feeling an idiot, and what’s worse, you’re there to witness it.

“You don’t look alike, you know.” he points out “At all.”

“I know; I take after my mother. Barney looks a lot like our father, at least judging from the pictures he’s shown me, but he is more attractive, and a better man altogether.”

You’re sitting with an arm wrapped around your knees; you turn to look at Gunner, and your smile falls, heartbreak filling your eyes.

“You thought we were a couple for five years?”

“And not just me; that’s more or less the general view among the guys. I hate to tell you this, but you look nothing alike, you live together, and you kiss and hug all the time. Is it really so weird we thought you were a couple?”

“Well, now that you put it like this…”

“You kept this thing a secret deliberately, didn’t you? But why?”

You tell him it was Barney’s decision, out of respect for his mother, who is still alive and perfectly lucid despite her advanced age, and who has never forgotten her husband cheated on her and had a child with another woman. Mrs. Ross lives in a nursing home, so it’s not like you could meet her in the street or she could hear about you being part of Barney’s life unless he told her, but he asked you to keep it to yourselves, pretending to be just friends.

“I supported him, of course; I mean, that’s exactly the sort of man Barney is, devoted to the people he loves, how could I say no? God, and you all thought… I can’t believe it…”

You fall silent for a full minute, running the fingers of your free hand through your hair, and then talk again, looking straight in front of you.

“That night, when I… when I came to sleep at your place. You thought I was crying because I had lost my man, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes…”

“And then I asked you to sleep with me, not even two days later. God, Gunner, what you must have thought of me…”

“Hey…” he begins softly, his hand finding your shoulder “As I said that day, I’m not judging you. You had lost someone you cared about, you needed comfort, I was happy to give it to you, end of the story.”

“Right…”

“And that ring you wear?”

“I bought it at some stall. What, you thought it was my engagement ring?”

“Well…”

“Oh my God…”

You sigh, finally turning to look at him, and for a moment you seem not to find the words to express what you feel. “I thought you disliked me, you know?” you murmur “At least, that you didn’t trust me or consider me a friend. The way at times you seemed uncomfortable when we were together, and then I kept telling myself you had slept with me out of pity and it had to have been the worst sex in your life…”

Gunner sighs; he doesn’t even try not to smile. “I don’t dislike you, (name). At all.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“And that was not pity sex. Did I really look like a man who was not enjoying himself?”

“Well…” 

Another sigh; when you speak again, it’s like you are not sure whether you want to cry or to laugh. “Five years, Gunner. Shit, I can’t believe… five years. We wasted so much time, so many opportunities…”

“I know, darling; I know.”

He takes your face in his hands; you swallow, as if hypnotized by his bright blue eyes.

“I couldn’t tell you, you understand?” he tells you, earnest and almost desperate, the intensity behind his words making you shiver “The woman of my friend, of a man I owed so much… how could I tell you how I felt? And I could see how much you loved him, I never thought… you could care for me, but God, I would have given half my blood to…”

“I am so sorry. Gunner, I ruined everything, I’m sorry…”

“You ruined nothing; I just grew to want you even more. Now come here…”

You meet in the middle, covering the brief distance separating you until your mouths are pressing against each other, Gunner’s muscled arm quickly wrapping around your waist to pull you closer; you run your fingers through his hair, kissing him as if your life depended on it, until a car on the road speeds past you, making you both jump.

“Come to my place?” Gunner murmurs, and you beam at him. You’ll have a lot to discuss, you and him and Barney as well, because you don’t want to hide what is being born between you or the others to suspect you and Gunner are seeing each other behind Barney’s back, but right now you don’t care - you physically can’t care. Two days ago you thought your life was over, that no one in the world was left who cared for you and that you had lost any chance to love, and now… and now your brother is back, safe and sound, and the man you have long given your heart to is holding you close, never wanting to let go.

Yes, you wasted five years, and for that you might never forgive yourself; but at the same time, you are even more determined to make the time at your disposal count… every day, every hour, every single moment, you promise Gunner will never have to doubt of your love, and he’ll always know how important he is to you.

How precious. 

“I’ll text Barney on the way.”

“Good idea.”

You stand together, made a bit awkward by the embrace you’re still sharing; you take Gunner’s hand and let him guide you down the road, leaving the bar behind you. 

*

Having finally gotten free of the woman who has harassed him for a full hour, clearly unwilling to take no for an answer, Barney has just ordered a drink at the counter when the buzzing in his back pocket announces the arrival of a text. He retrieves his phone, taps the screen and a moment later he’s smiling broadly to himself, thinking that had he known this is what those two needed to take the plunge, he would have faked his death years ago. 

Going home with Gunner. Don’t wait up. (name).

He’s still smiling when Christmas joins him, a beer bottle in his hand, having made his way among the small crowd gathered in the bar.  

“So.” he begins, clapping the other man on his shoulder with his free hand “Where’s your girlfriend? Gina wanted to talk to her.”

Barney turns to look at him, dumbfounded. “... my what?!”

[galaxywarp]

Also hey. I’ve been sitting on it for a few days but uh. Do you guys remember me talking about an old best friend who I used to use meth with? How when I was craving super bad I was debating if I wanted to hit him up and go over there and relapse? How I checked his Facebook and he’s making paranoid posts about the FBI so I know he’s probably still using meth?

Well. And let’s call him “R” just to help talk about it. I liked one of his posts. And he messaged me a few days ago to ask me how I am.

I just keep staring at the notification. I knew when I liked his Facebook post that he might reach out. And he did.

This dude. This dude was a super close friend of mine. I spent Christmas with him in 2020 when we both had covid so we couldn’t be around our family’s. But we used meth all night together playing video games and watching tv.

I watched him kind of go insane. He started installing cameras everywhere. Getting scared at everything. We had to watch tv quietly and in the dark so no one would “get us”.

I wanted to help him. I couldn’t. I couldn’t help me either. So we just smoked meth together. And I loved him. I do love him. Still.

And uh. He messaged me. A few days ago. And im struggling with it a lot. And uh. Yeah.

Just. Wanted to say something.

[undergrounddweller89]

I don't even go here but these robots are so gay I love them. they compel me

(which is to say, do you have any recs or tips to get into this for real?)

I'm gonna be real here , in 2007 my introduction to transformers was through the bayverse.

I was like hmm I wanna look up fanart of these characters because they're so cool.

I was in my late teens at this point and robot spice was new territory for me.

At first I did NOT LIKE IT my little brain could not get around why people were making them do the do , the vertical tango or any romance what so ever.

Again I was younger and my ships had been Alucard x Alexander from the series Hellsing and jack and Sally from night mare before Christmas and other stuff I can't remember, but the more art I saw the more I took a step back not in a bad way , more like to sit and ponder and think about it.

And then i imagined Megatron behind Optimus, hands on his hips and pushing into him, the parting of metal giving way for him, the joining of their bodies and suddenly, suddenly it clicked.

And I was like....oh I get it now and thus my shipping started from then, remember i started with the walking chandelier and a gorgeous voiced mech who I didn't realise at the time was fine as fuck.

But I was extremely new to it , but I also wasn't the type of person to spam people's work with shitty comments, I was very much to each their own.

Let's see if you really want to get into it, more than meets the eye is definitely a recommended read by many.

G1 is just a load of silly shenanigans until you reach the 86 movie and you're like oh, oh my God they're really at war and every autobot you became fond of dies as well as our favourite Decepticon Starscream and Megatron who becomes a lunatic, voiced by the great Leonard nimoy in the movie.

If you're seeking sexy ass curves and why do they make me feel like this Transformers prime hands down.

It has excellent writing animation and voice acting.

Beast wars has some silly moments, but still excellent. Dinobot my beloved they should not have kept you from us like that.

Animated, oh man this one one is so much fun and it's fun to see an Optimus who's younger and still figuring out leadership. He's like a 35 year old man who suddenly has to be in charge of a rag tag team but build a close bond in friend ship oh and the decepticons are MASSIVE, SO if you got a thing for size difference.

Slaps that bad boy , that's the one to go for XD

For all its humor there is a darker underlying tone to it.

Armada , you will mourn Starscream. Just trust me. But you can also tell its a 2000's Saturday morning cartoon xD

Earthspark, as its said the first series is the best, they massively cop out in series 2 and three but there's a couple good episodes still sprinkled in them and honestly Megatron is fine as fuck in it and I didn't know i needed Megatron to sound like that but now I want a show of just him sounding like that with way more screen time. But it's also very wholesome to.

Rescue bots, omg you need ice cream and blankets and to feel comforted cause of how adorable they ar, that one, this one , I was like oh man a show for kids, then I watched it and was like 🥺 I love them they're adorable.

And Starscream has such a good character arc in series one , they talk about the abuse he suffered at Megatron's hands and then....series 2 just makes him as I reason with myself relapse into old ways because it's what he knows , I imagine to myself that he fell off the bandwagon, maybe seeing Megatron caused him to go backwards because he needed to feel powerful and show what he is capable of ....old....old habits die hard.

In series three there is a moment where he offers to freelance for the autobots if they get him out of the titan he's in.

Pretty sure he was going crazy in there cause they bodies he was with were posed and no doubt he was talking to them they just never showed that.

But it definitely would have been interesting.

And if you want your heart broken

Transformers one.

I think that's the end of my ramble , I need to get back to work, hope it helps :3

[geminiagentgreen]

I'm sorry to vomit this shit on your ask box, but i saw a post of your's about porn and i can't stand to keep all this pervese shit to myself and i can't tell this to anyone in real life.

I wish "normal" porn was my problem. But on top of that i'm a miserable pedophile. When i was in my teens i had acess to cp on tumblr(i only came back here after the porn ban) i still have those images stuck in my brain.

I realized that i could not live with these fantasies in my head and i have been trying to surpress them for years, but it become a habit so i keep failing to do that.

I did everything to "fix myself" and be chaste through prayers and penance. Even physically hurting myself as a punishment. And it still doesn't work. I thought about putting something in my eyes to make myself blind, but apparently mutilating your body is a sin.

Someone lobotomize me or something. I wish i could die already.

Well the first thing I want you to know is that I hold no contempt or condemnation toward you, and I think that you admitting this is very, very brave of you. I've prayed for you, and I will continue to do so.

I was in similar straits as you; increased depravity with a long (20 years for me) fight that always ended in a relapse that saw things get worse for me. I reached my lowest on Christmas Eve and Christmas when I caved to a desire for rape porn on both days. It honestly makes me think of Luke 11:24-26, that I was a man who swept up his own house but could not truly keep clean. Only Jesus Christ can truly keep a man clean, and because of what he did for me, I wholly believe that I am free from the chains of pornography. I want to see you in heaven, I want to see you free from evil.

Truly, I tell you that your sins can be forgiven by Christ, and it is what he has done for you that saves your soul, but on your end you must repent - decide to turn away from - and make war on your sin. The Lord enables us to overcome, rely on Him for your strength and do everything you can to keep this filth out of your life. As for the memories, I'm afraid there isn't much that can be done for that; I still get memories from the last two decades. That said, these do not have to have power over us; these are acts of the flesh warring against us while we are in Christ. I've been blessed with help from mutuals who advised me on the best deflection for these memories, and that is to not respond to each of them with a prayer or serious thought every single time. This only fuels the anxiety and ironically makes the problem keep occurring; dismiss them, the guilt of your past is dead with your sins on the cross, while you, in Christ Jesus, are alive, a new creation.

I don't want to leave you, but I'll finish this response with Ephesians 2:1-10:

Made Alive in Christ

2 As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, 2 in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. 3 All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh[a] and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. 4 But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, 5 made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. 6 And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, 7 in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. 8 For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— 9 not by works, so that no one can boast. 10 For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.