#gotta pad it out somehow to get to that super high number that makes people buy those cartridges

[beardedhandstoadshark]

what console and/or game introduced you to gaming?

Technically it was a player vs player Bomberman clone called Playing with Fire 2 on those old flash game websites I‘d play at my parents workplace.

But as an actual game, it’s probably Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Wintergames 2010, the DS (read: better :P) version. There’s also Bomberman DS but that came just sliiiiightly later.

…it’s also how I became a hardcore sonic fan without ever playing a single game until 6 years later. Seriously younger me was obsessed with that hedgehog. Said flash game website also had that one popular Sonic Advance game which really didn’t help. Heck, I never played Sonic Unleashed and yet the main theme Endless Possibility is still incredibly nostalgic just because my favorite minigame (Dream Figure Skating) has like 15 seconds of a midi cover in it’s music, and it’s not even that good lmao (…it’s probably not even midi. Idk what format the DS is using for the sound actually but it sounds very retro-)

[feralnumberfive]

The Rewatch Academy: Episode 3 of Season 1

“Extra Ordinary”

I am in no way a good analyst so my little analysis and speculations probably sound a bit goofy or pretty wild and probably mean nothing at all. Everything I put into this post about each episode is purely what I noticed or thought, whether it's funny or serious. I will be making jokes, so please just leave it at that (in no way am I trying to make fun of an actor and or character!) I am also in no way saying I noticed this stuff first. This is just what I noticed while rewatching these episodes

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ 

1x01 | 1x02 | 1x03 | 1x04 |

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂

☂ First off I’d like to say that this is one of my favorite episodes of this season. It’s just soooo good

☂ The second comic book in the window features the Televator from the actual comics, so that has to be canon in the show! Also at the time that that second comic came out, Five had already left since we don’t see him on the cover

☂ It’d be cool if they actually printed Vanya’s book for fans to read

☂ Well Diego isn’t wrong when he called Hazel and Cha Cha animals because of their masks

☂ Honestly I feel Vanya’s struggle with chair placement. I’ve fortunately had the luck of playing in all three clarinet chair placements, but 1st chair is challenging. I personally found each placement very fun to play, especially 3rd, and I hope Vanya does too! (why am I talking like she’s real)

☂ Hazel talks about people living ordinary lives, but didn’t he live like that too at one point? How does The Commission recruit people? If they get ordinary people, do they wipe their memories of their previous lives?

☂ “Let’s see’em get out from behind their desks, get their hands dirty for once.” Well Hazel, Five does indeed do this even though he only had a desk job for a day. Still, he got to experience both worlds

☂ My mind is blanking on this, but how did Five get that cut on his arm? Was it from a bullet wound at Gimbel’s? 

☂ Five must have a high pain tolerance to stitch his own wound but his bandaid probably wouldn’t stick due to the wet blood he slapped it over. Five sweetie you need a cotton pad and gauze for that one

☂ Wait, you’re telling me that The Umbrella Academy boys’ top uniform consists of a tank top, a white dress shirt, a tie, a sweater vest, and then the blazer? Someone asked Reginald what he wanted for the uniforms and he just said “Yes.”

☂ Five: *puts hands in pockets only to immediately take them out*

☂ Aidan almost sounds like he has an accent when he says “I'm done funding your drug habit.” 

☂ Five’s so soft talking to his wife

☂ No Leonard, your bread and butter is being a creep

☂ Also, he thinks wood carving is embarrassing? If someone came up to me and showed me something they carved out of wood I would be so jealous cause it’s such a neat form of art

☂ Leonard saying that he carved wood, and in that case wooden figures, when he was a kid is a slight foreshadow of all of his tampering with his Umbrella Academy figures. He can make wooden figures but he’s also destroyed a handful of the Hargreeves figures 

☂ “Never really did like The Beatles.” Well sir you’ve made me dislike you even more

☂ Vanya asking Allison if her siblings wanted her at the family meeting bugs me a bit. I absolutely get that she was literally left out of anything and everything that had to do with her siblings when she was younger, but Allison just asked her to come back home for a family meeting. Allison wouldn't have walked around looking for Vanya only to tell her that they were having a family meeting and that she wasn’t actually invited. Allison is including her in on a family meeting but Vanya is just in a bit of disbelief that she’s being included

☂ Ah yes, the only PTSD flashback for Five we see in the show! He looks so scared when he snaps out of it. I believe it was somehow triggered by the kids (I could be wrong) but do you think Five sometimes panics when he looks at himself in the mirror now since his body is the same age it was when he got stuck? Also it’s very subtle but when Luther opens the door, Five slightly jerks/flinches back. I wish we would see more of this in the show since it’s one of his major traumas

☂ “Does it matter? It’s Klaus.” Ouch! Well Five I hope you know that your siblings are somewhat thinking the same thing since they believe that you’ve lost your mind and are practically an old man crying “Apocalypse!” 

☂ Five does an ever so slight huff and smirk when Luther tells him that the meeting at the Academy is important. He finds it a little funny but so frustrating in his mind that Luther doesn’t know what’s truly important

☂ Also I love that Aidan has to turn to the side so that he can keep it together after Klaus talks about his chocolate pudding waxing. Either that or he’s portraying Five as being frustrated and in disbelief. Also this is the first time I’ve noticed that he says “Ay, ay ay...” 

☂ “We’re all you have. And you know it.” Oh Luther, you’re failing to see that that’s why he’s acting like this right now. He’s all frantic and crazed about trying to stop the apocalypse so that he can protect and save all that he has

☂ Five certainly is mad at Luther during his mini lecture. He’s clenching his jaw tightly and when he first speaks he hisses out the words through gritted teeth. He even called Luther by his number. He’s very impatient at this point and doesn’t care for Luther’s act of attempting to be a leader

☂ This is their first, and certainly not last, time watching Klaus go by in front of them doing something he shouldn’t be doing

☂ “You haven’t been home in a long time, Vanya.” Sir you were also just on the moon for four years. Yeah Vanya was away for a long time but Grace easily could have changed too during the four years you were gone

☂ How sweet, even though Five hasn’t really been home they want to include him in on the family vote :]

☂ I’ve noticed that in S1 that David really mumbles his lines. A lot

☂ I wish we got more flashbacks of the younger Umbrellas

☂ Diego my beloved mama’s boy ♥️

☂ It’s confusing as to which country TUA takes place in, but it’s really not supposed to be a specific one. It’s portrayed as being in North America, but you can see behind Cha Cha when she gets out of the car at the Academy the flag of the RAF, which Canada would have at a monument since it’s a Commonwealth country. At the same time though Delores came from Gimbels, which was a department store chain across the U.S

☂ The light above Five’s portrait is slightly crooked, which probably means no one has really been paying attention to it

☂ It makes me nervous that Klaus wipes bubbles onto his face. It looks like he got some in his eyes

☂ Ugh I love the whole scene of Hazel and Cha Cha walking around the Academy with “We’re Through” playing

☂ Diego: *has knives but instead chooses to punch and hit Hazel to try to make him let go of Allison”

☂ A rope-a-dope is a boxing tactic of pretending to be trapped against the ropes, goading an opponent to throw tiring ineffective punches. Diego sweetie Hazel wasn’t even trying to get you off of him all he was doing was choking Allison. The only person who got tired was probably you

☂ What’s the point in Diego yelling “Luther, go!” if he’s already going 💀

☂ Luther was there immediately when Hazel attacked Vanya. That means that Luther heard Vanya and was going to go get her to safety

☂ I will never stop signing my praise for the entirety of the “Sinnerman” fight scene(s). It gives me chills every single time. Easily one of the best scenes in all of the show

☂ Klaus must really have his music blasting if he can’t hear the gun shots right next to him

☂ I’ve always wondered if Allison actually registered in her mind that “The boy” is Five when Cha Cha says that’s who they’re looking for. Either she does realize that’s Five, is simply just angry that those two are looking for a boy, or registers in her mind that it’s Five through his superhero codename even though Cha Cha’s not referring to him in that way

☂ Diego is full on just standing in the background watching Allison get beat up by Cha Cha 🕴

☂ I love Diego’s little hand flap when he gets hit in the hand fighting Cha Cha

☂ Okay so I make everything about Five, but the whole Cha Cha fight scene with Allison and then Diego kind of scares me. Cha Cha and Hazel are both amazing assassins (they’re both probably right below Five) and neither Allison nor Diego could stop her by themselves. Could you imagine Five fighting one of his siblings? Especially with his spatial jumps? We already got a glimpse of his true combat skills when he fights Lila in S2. What a scary little old man

☂ “Vanya, get out of here!” Again, wanting to make sure that Vanya is safe and gets away. He even tried to go look for her

☂ Something I don’t really get about the Hazel and Luther fight is why doesn’t Luther just overpower him? Luther has super strength and on top of that he has giant muscles due to the gorilla DNA. Shouldn’t he be able to beat Hazel to a pulp? Maybe we have to consider that Hazel might have been altered by The Commission to be stronger and more durable, but they haven’t mentioned that in the show

☂ “Ah, you gotta cut down on that fast food, soldier.” What are you talking about Diego he literally just got off the moon two days ago aflksjfdk

☂ So Luther was too injured to jump out of the way of the chandelier but was able to push it up off of himself? 🤔

☂ I personally think that Luther’s body design adaptation for the show is really cool and that they gave him the perfect amount of bulk without making him look ridiculous

☂ This has been pointed out before, but cross-stitch foreshadowing, baby 

☂ Again, Diego my beloved mama’s boy ♥️

☂ Well at least Diego thought about Vanya dying before thinking about his siblings dying because of her. The latter is ironic!

☂ The clock above Luther’s mirror reads approximately 1:30 am. Hazel and Cha Cha didn’t want to wait until morning

☂ I wonder how different it would be if Five was present at the Academy when Hazel and Cha Cha attacked. He probably would have surrendered himself to them, but it's fun to entertain the idea that he would go apeshit if he knew that they were harming his family in order to find him

☂☂☂☂☂☂☂

Feel free to comment or reblog with things you have noticed too!

[winterscaptain]

white album.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

ask: i saw something earlier saying that haley was cheating on hotch (totally true) and just imagine hotch being super vulnerable and open to the reader about his insecurities in a relationship because of it 🥺 a/n: i promise i’ll give you all a break from my nonsense after this one! i got the above message from an anon today, and this happened and i’m not even a little sorry. i wrote this one all in one sitting too, so feel free to shout about any errors - i’m always appreciative of your catches! words: 1838 warnings: mentions of infidelity

disclaimer: i am in the “Haley Cheated on Hotch” camp, but I’m also in the “I Totally Understand Some of Her Choices and Respect Her” camp. we stan grey morality in this house and understand that marriage is very very hard!

AO3 | Masterlist | Requests Closed

+++

Your phone rang, and you jumped up and kissed Aaron on the head before slipping out of the room. Before you could close the door, he heard your relieved “Hi, how are you?”

He did his best to keep the anxiety at bay. You weren’t seeing anyone else. You loved him. You loved him. You loved him.

It wasn’t sure how long it had been when you stepped back in, phone in-hand.

“What did I miss?” You asked, gesturing to the still-rolling movie on the screen.

He snapped to and said, “Um...I’m not sure. Let’s – ah – we’ll just pick up from where you left.” He shot you a tight smile.

You frowned at him. “What’s wrong, Aaron?”

He shook his head, pulling you close and kissing your temple. “Nothing, honey. I’m good.”

+++

The next week, you were checking your email in the kitchen when your phone rang again. It was Emily, and you smiled upon answering.

“Hey...Yeah...He didn’t see anything, did he?”

Aaron paused in the hallway and pressed his back against the wall, listening.

“No, it’s really important this stays under wraps...Yeah...Oh, shit I gotta go, I think I hear him.”

He gave it another few seconds before he backtracked to the bedroom door and loudly made his way down the hallway toward the kitchen. He swung around the corner and came up behind you, subtly looking over your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “What are you working on in here?”

You leaned back into him, humming contentedly. “Just checking some emails. One of the Idaho consults had a follow-up, and I guess it’s time sensitive.”

He kissed your temple, but his jaw was tight. “Glad you’re staying on top of it.”

When he stepped away from you, walking out of the kitchen toward the living room without his cup of coffee, you furrowed your brow.

What is that about?

+++

It was the day after he caught you whispering with Emily in the break room that he’d decided to do a little digging. He called Emily into his office and shut the door behind her.

“Do you know what’s going on?”

She shook her head slightly and frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N. There’s something going on and I want to know what it is.”

“Hotch, I – I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice ticked up at the end, like it was a question.

Emily was a good liar, but not that good. He huffed. “Fine. Nevermind.”

“Is that all you needed?” She asked, tentative. Her thumb traced the side of her finger – one of her few tells.

She’s lying.

“Yes, thank you. You’re dismissed.” He returned to his paperwork, holding onto his pen a little too tight.

+++

“Alright,” you said, pausing the movie. “What’s wrong with you, Aaron?”

He stared straight ahead, his jaw tight. “If you’re seeing someone else, that’s fine. I’d just rather you tell me instead of keeping it from me and making Prentiss lie for you.”

Your eyes widened, and you shifted, facing him with one foot tucked under you. “What are you talking about?”

He scoffed. “Is that the party line now? ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about?’ C’mon, Y/N, you think I haven’t noticed? Did you know I did this with Haley? The sneaking around, the phone calls, the secrets? She was horrible at hiding it and somehow you’re even worse.”

It all clicked together for you.

Oh. Oh no.  

His bitter words didn’t hurt you, but your heart ached for the ease with which they left his mouth.

As if he’d said them, or thought them, before.

“Aaron...” you said, reaching for him. He pulled his arm from your touch, crossing them.

Only one way to do this. He’s past listening.

You stood, stomping to your bedroom and digging the box out from underneath your bed and returning to the living room. You’d wrapped it well, with padding, so you had no qualms about throwing it into the couch beside him with a certain degree of force.

He startled, and looked up at you. Tears were threatening, and you were so fucking angry at him.

“Open it.”

Still watching you carefully, he picked up the thin, wide box and set it in his lap. It was beautifully wrapped. He looked down as he gingerly removed the ribbon and opened it along the tape line at the back.

All the air left him in a huff when he lifted the lid and saw what was inside. He completely deflated, and you saw regret flood through him.

You’d spent months conspiring with Emily and all her friends in high places to find an early pressing of The Beatles’ White Album. The one you found was nearly in mint condition – kept safe by a collector in northern London - and cost a small fortune. Aaron’s birthday was next week, and though it wasn’t a milestone birthday by any stretch, you had the idea a year before and couldn’t let it go.

His fingers traced the gatefold cover, the pressing number (under one hundred, thank you very much), and the original apple logo – the signatures of an early copy. His mouth opened and closed a few times, as if he was going to say something before he thought better of it.

You still stood beside the couch, still a little angry and still a little out of breath. You had to admit, though, his awe and shock made your heart swell. It really was a grand surprise, and you probably wouldn’t be able to top it for the rest of your life.

In five years together, grand gestures had been few and far between. It was more than time for something phenomenal.

Eventually, he put the album back into the box you wrapped it in, and set it aside. He stood and crossed to you, gathering you into his arms.

“God, honey, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You let yourself lean into him, pressing your hands to his waist. He tucked his head into the crook of your neck, holding you tight. You wiggled, getting your arms up over his shoulders to put your hands in his soft dark hair. “What was that about, huh?” You leaned back and gave him a watery smile, brushing the stubborn cowlicks off his forehead.

He shrugged, his eyes cast downward, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Wait, Aaron, were you serious?” You tipped his chin up with your finger, searching for his eyes. “Haley cheated on you?” Your voice was gentle, quiet. You weren’t about to speak ill of the dead, let alone the mother of your favorite child on the planet, but you couldn’t push down the spike of anger in your belly.

The very thought was incomprehensible to you. He’d never told you.

Aaron shook his head a little, and you were startled to find tears in his eyes. “I never – I never caught them or anything, but there were...signs.” He sighed, and you tugged him so your foreheads met. The space you made together was dark, safe. “Odd phone calls during the day where the house phone would ring, I’d answer, and then they’d hang up, only for her cell phone to ring seconds later. She always took those calls outside. She took her purse and phone everywhere.”

“Aaron...”

He continued, and you listened. “And she was...happier, I guess? Not exactly, but she didn’t put so much effort into fighting. She gave up easier, like it...didn’t matter whether she won the argument or not.”

Though he hesitated through much of his recollection, his voice was even – almost matter of fact.  

“And then she left. And I’ve always thought I had it coming, like I deserved it. I might have. I probably did.” He sighed, and he tucked his head back into your shoulder. “I’m always a little afraid that it’ll happen again.”

You shook your head. “No, love. Never.”

He sniffed, and you continued.

“You are a kind, attentive, and thoughtful partner. Your integrity is beyond measure, and I love the way you pour yourself into your work and take care of our team.” You tangled your fingers in his hair and held him to you. You were nowhere near finished. “You are a fantastic parent. The evenness with which you manage Jack is one of the most admirable things I’ve ever seen. You model honesty and compassion for your son and you do it so well.

“It is so clear how much you care about people, Aaron. You are a blessing to the families we serve. Honey, you’re so smart and so articulate that I sometimes can’t breathe listening to you speak.” He huffed a laugh at that, and you knew it was working. “I feel so loved by you all the time. I know how much you love me. And I hope you know how much I love you. How much I’ll always love you.”

He nodded, and you pressed kiss upon kiss to the side of his head.

“I love you so much.” He raised his head and looked at you, and his lashes were wet. You brushed his tears away with your thumbs. He closed his eyes and leaned into your hands.  

“Come sit with me.” You steered him by the shoulders and led him back to the couch. You pushed him down and straddled his lap, and his hands automatically fell to your hips. There was nothing sexual about it – you just wanted to be as close to him as possible. He wrapped his arms around you as you tucked into his chest.

“I’m sorry I made you think the worst, love. I just wanted it to be a good surprise.”

He kissed the top of your head. “It was a really good surprise. I’m sorry I’m a jackass.”

You laughed into his chest and tipped your head up to kiss the underside of his jaw.

You sat there for a while, his hands tracing patterns along your spine.

Your voice was small when you asked, “Do you like it?”

He somehow managed to squeeze you closer to him before releasing you so you could meet his eyes. “I love it.” He framed your face with his hands, and kissed you. “I can’t imagine how difficult it was to find.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “You can thank Emily for locating it.” You looked over at the box. “It came all the way from London, and arrived just a couple of days ago. I had it shipped to Emily’s so you wouldn’t suspect anything, and I had to be in touch with the seller fairly often in the last couple of weeks.”

He felt like a class-A moron. He just looked at you, completely dumbstruck. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You shook your head and took his hands in yours, kissing them before holding them to your chest. “I could ask you the same question.”

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @octothorpetopus @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnesmb @vintagecaptainspidey

[novantinuum]

Shattering Atlas (a corrupted!Steven one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (TW: depression and body horror)

Words: 4.2K~

Summary: A boy can only carry an entire galaxy upon his back for so long before the weight of it all finally becomes too much.

Folks, here it is! I’m finally finished. AO3 link to be posted in the reblogs.

Disclaimer: This is absolutely far darker and more drastic than I believe canon would EVER tread if this theory had the faintest chance of being anywhere close to the truth, but sometimes you just feel like being super angsty for angst's sake, y'feel? It was an interesting writing experiment nonetheless. Not gonna lie, this is kinda a vent piece. Please do heed those tags. This delves into some difficult territory both mentally and otherwise, as it's written entirely from Steven's POV.

_____

Steven knows he’s messed-up.

It’s not something he tries to advertise to all the sweet, innocent people who somehow after all this time still choose to stand by his side, but he can’t lie to himself. Spending a significant chunk of your childhood actively doubting your own personhood shatters you in ways no amount of unconditional love can ever hope to mend. And sure, he’s not his mom. He knows that. Been there, had the mental breakdown, seen it, done it. The proof’s in his gem half. He knows. But as much as everyone in his life coddles him, gently tries to reassure him while he tirelessly works day and night to realign the foundation of an entire ancient civilization...

“You’re almost an adult now, isn’t that exciting?”

“Don’t worry about the future, the futures I see for you are as limitless as they are bright.”

“Take a break if you need to, ‘kay? You totally deserve one, little man.”

“Y’know, Schtu-ball, the wonderful thing about adulthood is that you can choose to fly wherever the wind takes you!”

...it’s clear none of that matters anyways. Because it’s not true, not for him. Because beyond his identity as a Crystal Gem, beyond that bottomless desire for belonging he’s been chasing all his life, ever since the fateful moment early in his childhood in which he finally realized— small, pudgy hands clutching at the oversized hand-me-down shirt right over the pink hand-me-down gem in his belly— that he isn’t like anyone else and never will be, the truth is that he genuinely doesn’t know what he wants. Who he is.

Everyone else does.

Connie has plans. Hopes, dreams. A future. She’s already thinking about college, and aims on double majoring in political science and environmental science. (A combination only she’s daring enough to pursue, but if anyone’s got the drive to succeed in that it’s her.) Dad’s still manager for Sadie Killer and the Suspects, and they’re going strong. Amethyst has been playing tour guide to all her fellow Prime sisters lately, galavanting with them all around planet Earth. Garnet is currently on the search for terrified cross-fusion Gems still in hiding across the galaxy. Pearl, Bismuth, and a number of the boardies have spearheaded a campaign to help slowly teach and integrate the humans of the Zoo into modern day society. Lapis and Peridot recently built another barn in the outskirts of Little Homeworld, and are enjoying each other’s company.

But him? When all is said and done, as the restructured Gem society stabilizes and soon no one will need him for anything anymore, when Gems and humans alike stop knocking on his metaphoric door with handfuls of their problems for him to drop everything and solve, he has nothing left. He’s no one. No future, no clue. He’s been drained empty.

He’s just drifting through life with the parking break on, continuously waiting— his nerves jittering at every quiet moment— for the next big crisis to crash into his universe and drop feed him even the tinniest shard of purpose.

After all, what is one to do when they’ve spent their entire life training to save the world, but the world has already been saved?

_____

He can’t recall exactly when his current predicament began anymore.

Time’s been hard to keep track of as of late— the days and weeks blending together in an incomprehensible fashion— and yet simultaneously, he might as well have lived a lifetime in the span of the blink of an eye. That being said, he’s pretty sure his most recent gem troubles didn’t truly kick into gear until after the incident with the, erm... cactus monstrosities.

He genuinely didn’t mean to hurt anyone, he didn’t. He only wanted to help... to heal. To try and repair but a shred of the damage Homeworld wrought on this innocent world. It worked when Earth was poisoned, so it should work in the Kindergartens too, right?

Wrong. Very wrong.

His stomach churns as he catches a glimpse of a silly photo of Peridot and himself hanging on the wall by the stairs. A static monument to his shame. Lapis is (still, days later— or is it weeks?) taking care of her gemstone at this very moment, sure, but remembering what happened before that... holding Peridot’s cracked gem in his quivering hands, biting back cries of hopelessness as he ran to the nearest warp pad, escaping from the malformed, hurting creatures born of his own magic... it‘s the kind of horror that he’s sure will linger in his dreams for a long time yet.

It’s like he’s broken. Like his powers just aren’t coming as naturally to him anymore. It’s not quite like that time with the rejuvenator. There’s no sickly glow flickering in and out of existence. No external force acting upon it. No, it’s deeper than that. It’s not a gem sourced problem, it’s him. He’s just... wrong. He’ll try to use his healing ability and it’ll backfire, he’ll summon his bubbles and shields but they’re noticeably less durable, he’ll birth life from his very soul and it’ll grow bitter and corrupt, every bit a mirror of his present mental state. He’ll jump up high in the sky to burn out years of repressed stress in semi-peace and before he can actually do so gravity will grab ahold of him like he’s a petulant, disobedient child and drag him back to the shore. It makes him want to scream, to grind his fingers into the sand so hard his knuckles go white as he sobs out every last one of his stupid, meaningless frustrations, but instead his house is always swarming with people, and his bedroom has no real door, (and he’s too embarrassed to ask for one), and in sum he can never find enough time alone to freely be his genuine messed-up self. It’s fine, though. He doubts he’s capable of crying at this point anyways.

“Dude, you okay?” Amethyst asks with brows furrowed in concern, snapping him back to reality.

His GameStation controller rests precariously in his loose grasp, entirely forgotten in the previous moment. The game they’re playing is paused. He must have blanked out again, and completely ruined their co-op fight. He lets out a shaky breath as he tightens his fingers around the plastic grips, digging into them as if they’re his sole handle on reality.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says swiftly, plastering a smile on his face with the ease of someone who’s been growing adept at this endless charade for months and months. “Didn’t sleep too well last night. Muscle cramps from training, y’know?”

He watches her closely, catalogues every minute shift in her features. Her eyes narrow so slightly that anyone else might’ve missed it. But he doesn’t. He’s observant. He’s gotta be. It’s the only way he’s kept going for this long, the only way he can ensure no one else knows. They don’t need any more worry. Regardless, Amethyst’s lack of subtlety betrays her, because it’s clear she’s searching his expression and body language right back. His chest pounds. Hastily, he holds up the controller, feeling his face go pale under her scrutiny.

Geeze, how pathetic.

No matter how hard he tries to mask it, he‘s already falling apart.

“So... we gonna play another round, or?” Right as he says this, his stomach chooses to let out an inopportune gurgle. He bites at the insides of his cheeks, inwardly cursing at the bad timing.

It’s thankfully enough to divert Amethyst’s attention from... other matters, though.

“Yo. Ste-man. Your stomach’s straight up monologuing. Have you even eaten today?”

He dimly considers this as he tries not to focus on how empty and faint his body currently feels, mind turning to fuzz. “Uhh...”

She frowns, and promptly pulls herself to her feet. “Yeah, so I’m gonna take that as a no. I’ll be right back, ‘kay? Gonna get us some cheese!” she declares bombastically, putting on a mock announcer voice.

He watches her leave his room, prancing downstairs like she doesn’t have a care in the world. A faint huff of sheer relief passes through his nostrils. Absentmindedly, his thumbs jiggle the controller’s joystick, unable to strike the earlier image of Amethyst— concern engulfing her usually carefree self— from his mind. He really should be more careful about what he says. How he acts.

He honestly couldn’t live with himself if he slipped up and became yet another emotionally taxing problem for them to deal with. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl... all his family, his friends. They deserve peace. They deserve to be satisfied, they deserve their happily ever after. They certainly don’t deserve him, self-destructing all over the bright and shining future they’d won.

Or nearly shattering them.

Putting them in needless danger, danger that’s all his fault, because he’s broken.

His throat grows tight, airway constricted, images of black beady eyes, razor sharp fangs, and malformed limbs invading his thoughts, clawing away at insecurities long scabbed over until they ooze a bitter red. Peridot’s shrill yelp as she’s overtaken in an instant. That dreadful, immediately recognizable sound, a cracking Gem, seared onto his heart for the rest of time.

He... he can’t deny it anymore. His magic’s gone toxic. He’s toxic, bringing suffering and decay where once he brought healing. All his Gem powers are fading, maybe forever. And with them fading, he’ll soon be of no use to anyone, and when they realize why they faded they won’t want him around anyways, and y’know, it’s probably for the better they’ll have a concrete reason to finally push him away. He’s not stupid. He’s always known what an emotionally taxing strain he’s been on everyone, ever since the day Mom died for him to be born.

Steven grips the controller so hard that his fingers grow numb, mind stewing in the dark fantasies of what he’d like to do with himself when he’s left behind for good.

And then... his heart leaps in his throat as he dimly hears Amethyst begin to whisper to the others (they’re back? They’re back?? When did they return, why didn’t you notice them, how could you just miss—) downstairs.

“Y’guys,” he hears her say frantically, under her breath, “I think we really gotta talk with Steven. Something’s seriously wrong, and he won’t tell me what.”

“What, you mean to say he’s in danger? Garnet, do you see anything?”

“Hmm. I don’t foresee any external threats to Steven’s safety in the near future, but...”

“Amethyst, he’s clearly still upset about Peridot. And once she reforms in a few days, when she’s ready, he’ll be fine! Trust me.“

“No, trust me, I genuinely think this is more than just Peridot! It’s getting me super worried. He hasn’t been eating like he should, y’guys. I don’t think he’s showered in days. Sometimes it’s like he’s... I dunno, like, he isn’t even fully present. And y’know, thinking about it now? It’s been like this for a while. Since before all the cactus stuff.”

“Well, if he doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not sure how we could—“

“We need to call Greg over,” Garnet interrupts Pearl, a new, thinly veiled panic rising in her voice. “Right now.”

His eyes stretch open wide.

Oh.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no... Not here, not now, not— please, not now!

His breath hastens, his body outright shaking now. He curls tight into himself, the game controller dropping from his slackened fingers onto the floor as he clutches his knees to his chest. Sweat beads in droplets on his forehead. He outright yanks at his hair.

Amethyst, she can’t just waltz downstairs and!—

I don’t want to—

Peridot, getting cracked, I- it’s all my fault and she didn’t—

I- all of this- I’m so useless, careless, l- I’m losing my mind, what’s even wrong- why are you panicking!- I don’t—

T-they can’t know, they can’t know, they CAN’T—

He can’t fully bite back his cries as his gem flares burning hot, a rush of pure, unadulterated agony spiking through his hard light veins in an indescribably eternal split-second, the very experience of hypocrisy. Every single muscle in his body seizes. His ears ring, filled with a cacophonous clamor of sound that slashes through his mind with the deadly force of a long blade. Crippling. Debilitating. All-consuming. Hell. This is hell. Because then his head is pounding, and his limbs are all weak and shaky, and for a moment he’s bathed in a faint wash of pink, the glow enveloping him like his own corona of sickness as he succumbs to the pain he’s sequestered inside, bitterly festering for all these years.

Hell eventually recedes, both its note and its physical touch, but the dark clouds looming over his mind do not. Slowly, he loosens his grip on his curls, trying desperately to bring balance to his breathing. His ears are still ringing. His head is still cotton. Questions abound. For instance: what on Earth was that?? Stars, is something else wrong with his gem now, too? Thoroughly disorientated, he yanks up the hem of his shirt.

“Steven?!” Pearl calls frantically from downstairs, right as his trembling fingers gently trace the exposed facets of his gem. “Are you okay up there?”

He squints, features compressing in his sheer confusion. Visually, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. No imperfections, no flickering light, nothing. So then what’s—

“Hey, Steven? Yo?? You, uh- maybe wanna come eat downstairs, or?”

A shudder runs clear through his form, starting from his gem and coursing outwards to the furthest extremities. He grits his teeth as he rides through the stabbing discomfort, clutching at his stomach. It’s like he’s about to vomit. Sure, so maybe he was really hungry before, and maybe that has a little to do with what he’s experiencing now, but... this... still doesn’t feel right. Spots swim in his vision as he glances down again.

And that’s when he sees it, slowly creeping across the skin of his bare forearm as clear as day.

It’s a patch of dull, pinkish hide. Not human skin, hide. He runs his index finger along its perimeter, all of reality screeching to a halt as his brain performs somersaults in a desperate last-ditch attempt to contextualize the information his eyes are sending him right now.

“What?” he whispers in disbelief, (even though he has a few terrifying theories), frantic heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum.

“I’m checking on him,” Garnet says, just loud enough that he knows for certain she intends him to hear. Solid footsteps creep across the floorboards, advancing towards the foot of the stairs.

It’s frankly impressive how fast a single stimulus can turn panic to outright paranoia.

He almost trips over himself diving to retrieve his jacket off the floor, forcing his arms through the sleeves faster than any of the Gems could ever summon their weapons. Hide it. Hide it away. They can’t see you, they can’t know you’re corru- NO! Stop.

Bathroom. He needs to get to the bathroom.

His bare feet solidly connect with the floor, toes curling inwards as he shudders again. A pulsing ache settles into the bones of his skull. Then a prickle at his neck. Reflexively, he slaps his hand against the affected locale. There’s another spot steadily growing there.

Alone, NOW.

The whole world’s spinning as he turns on his heels and flies across the length of his bedroom— sprinting past the TV, shoving past Garnet, who’s already halfway up the open stairwell, and leaping clear over the couch from midway down the last set of steps. (Everyone’s shouting in blind panic as he enters their sight. Fear. Needless, unwanted worry. Calling his name, calling for peace, but his ears are still ringing and their voices are overlapping and he can’t distinguish any of it.) When he reaches the bathroom his hand grips the knob so hard that the metal almost crumples under his force, and he swings himself through the doorway, slams it shut, and turns the lock with pink-splotched fingers faster than any one of the Gems can move to stop him.

For a split moment, things are okay. He’s alone. Moreover, he’s safe.

(But are you really?)

His head is pounding again, the pulsing at his temples soon coalescing into a constant inescapable misery. Letting his eyes flutter shut, he lets his forehead lull against the door. Flexes his knuckles, imagines the splotches disappearing from sight as easily as eye bags under makeup. He tries to calm his breathing in the meditative way Garnet once showed him. In for four counts... and out. In... and out. Come on, just ride it out, Universe. You’re a Gem- a diamond, for cripe’s sake! Control it. Conceal. Move on.

“Steven?!” Amethyst calls from outside. “Please talk to us, what’s goin’ on?”

"Whatever it is, you don't have to be alone!" Pearl adds. He doesn't even have to see her face to know that she's crying.

A renewed burst of panic spikes through his veins at this realization.

“Stop worrying about me, I’m fine!” he bites back on impulse.

“No, you’re NOT!” Amethyst hollers, and then... after a thoughtful pause, her tone softening: “I- I know you’re not.”

He stares down at his hands, brows threading together, watching as the patch of hide continues to inch across his skin. The genuine concern interlaced in every syllable of her speech is enough to make his gut churn with guilt.

“Steven, I... stars, I know you probably overheard me talking to everyone jus’ a second ago, and I know I probably betrayed every scrap of trust we ever had ‘coz of that, and I wanna say I’m sorry, but I can’t just stand aside and watch you treat yourself like garbage. Please, the door’s jammed. Let us in. We just wanna help!”

His lip quivers, despite himself. “I don’t need any help!” he insists, stubbornly pushing past the crack in his voice. “I’m just—“

He’s interrupted by a rush of crippling agony radiating upwards from his gem once more, the ache at either side of his head intensifying into three points. Hands rush to the site on automatic. Fingers grasping, searching. Discovering.

There’s something growing at his temples, he realizes with a rush of horror. Something hard, faceted. Disturbingly cold to the touch.

There’s no way to bite back his screams as the growths fully protrude, none at all, even with his mouth clamped shut, and even though he can’t see them he can sense their weight as they wind upwards and back, up and out of his curls, and he’s shaking, oh stars is he shaking, chest heaving up and down so hard he’s not sure he’ll ever be free of these awful tremors ever again, and— A hoarse sob forces its way to the surface as a third growth crowns his forehead. Trembling fingers scrape down the length of the door as he collapses to his knees, nails sharpening into gnarled talons as they sink further and further into the wood, carving through it like butter. He clenches his jaw back together so hard that with any greater pressure he might shatter his own teeth.

Still quite woozy under the threat of hyperventilation, he slowly turns his head. Extricates those dreadful claws from the door. Dares himself to look. Forcing himself back up to his feet, he gazes deep into the depths of the mirror. And as the creature trapped on the other side stares back through sickeningly pink irises— blotches of color steadily creeping up their jawline and across their cheek, inching to meet the base of those glistening crystalline horns— all known reality shatters into smithereens.

Not me, not me, not me, is the mantra he chants to himself like a prayer, stubbornly clinging to any vestige of normalcy as if this is all but a vivid nightmare he can stir awake from.

(As if deep down, a tiny, beaten-down part of himself still wants to believe he deserves a future too.)

But the darkness reflected in that mirror is following his every jerky, erratic movement as all the despair and guilt and self-hatred festering within continues to consume him like a matchstick to fire.

Not real. It’s not real! I don’t need help. I don’t need the Gems, they don’t need to know, I’m fine, I’m FINE, this isn’t corru - NO, DON’T THINK ABOUT IT! YOU CAN’T—

They’re yelling outside. Arguing, probably. (And true to form, Pearl‘s cries are the shrillest.) But he can’t be certain of anything anymore while smothered under the fog’s thickening surface, with the rest of the world relegated to mere static and stimuli. Not a word, not a clue. No way to know if it’s an argument about him or with him.

And in his mind their distress stands as yet another sign. Just another slice of proof that they truly are at their happiest without him, that his continued existence only serves as a complication. He can’t deny it anymore. He can’t lie, can’t tiptoe around the inevitable truth; like this, he’s nothing but a liability. A ticking time bomb, set to shatter everything and everyone in his path. Shaking like a leaf, he unfurls his fists, watching as the dull pink hide overtakes the last clear patches of flesh upon his misshapen, monstrous fingers.

They’re better off without you.

The passing seconds cease to exist as he convulses again, this time centralized at the base of the spinal column. He doubles over, leans into the pain. Rides it through vertebrae by vertebrae, raking his claws deep into the wood floor as a fifth limb emerges from where the spine left off, steadily lengthening— fortifying itself with jagged crystalline spikes as it grows ever longer. Its weight is entirely foreign, yet it shifts upon his slightest command. Panic overruling all logic once more, he thrashes about, the tail swinging across the bathroom counter like a whip. His toothbrush, comb, and other various toiletries he hasn't made use of in days clatter to the floor, abandoned.

R u n.

The thought rampages through his shattered soul like an avalanche. Yanks him by the horns. Consumes his mind and body like a trance. He has to escape from here, from the house, the Gems, has to run quick, before it’s too late and you can’t do anything more but wordlessly scream.

He doesn’t stop to question this impulse. Doesn’t stop to peer at that poor tortured creature in the mirror again. For a moment his claws struggle to grasp the crumpled door knob, fumbling in failure’s wake.

When he finally forces the door open, the whole world holds its breath.

Pearl’s eyes blow wide upon the no-doubt horrifying sight. Her hands fly to her mouth. “Steven?!”

Even Amethyst reacts in an adverse manner, stepping back towards the support of the wall. “Holy...” she breathes, face paling.

And just knowing he’s out here now, every gnarled, nightmarish feature exposed in front of his family like a raw nerve, makes his blotchy, spot-covered skin crawl.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME, I’m FINE!” he hollers as he sprints to the warp pad, barbed tail whipping wildly behind him. Pearl yelps in alarm as she only barely dodges its mace-like swing. Unable to hold back his sobs anymore, he collapses to his knees on the hard crystal. Coils his tail around himself by sheer instinct. Hides his face away behind arms. Hot tears spill from his eyes, vision blurring and sharpening in rhythm to the unbearable ache pounding in his head. “I’m fine,” he whispers pathetically, voice catching.

He can practically feel the vibrations through the floor as someone approaches. It’s Garnet. He doesn’t know how he knows, but it can only be her. His breath hastens against his better wishes. Can’t stop, won’t stop, can’t stop... The vision of the temple door begins to pirouette in dizzy circles around him as he arches his back, and with a sharp gasp feels something tear its way through his shirt and jacket right above his spine, all jagged and spiked and— NO! He grinds his jaw together, shrinking further into himself. Not real. It’s not real, not real, not—

“Steven,” she says in a measured tone as he heaves for air. (No, with hesitation. Fear. She’s hesitating because she’s afraid of you, she’s afraid because you’re a monster NO.) “I know you’re hurting, but I need you to take a deep breath with me, and try to calm down. Please, let us help you...”

A heart wrenchingly familiar hand reaches out to him, adorned by a ruby gem and a golden wedding band. His fingers clamp around thick, greasy curls, brushing against the horns protruding from his temples. A keening cry slips out from his mouth against his better wishes. They want to help. They only want to help...

He peeks at her through the crook of his arm, his most likely reddened, blotchy eyes meeting hers. She’s taken off her visor. She’s crying too.

For a glimmer of a second, he considers reaching out. Taking her offered hand with his own clawed one. But then...

Haven’t you been a burden enough already?

His face screws up, and his hands clench into fists.

“NO,” he shouts, slamming them down upon the warp pad. It activates, (blessedly still accessible at this early stage of corruption NO don’t think about it!!), glowing a bright cyan as he envisions where he wants to go: no particular destination in his mind but away, away, away.

After all, he already knows he’s a monster.

So... he might as well become one too.

_____

Notes:

Some days you just gotta have an entire mental breakdown and go full wyrm, y'hear?

HCs I tapped into for this fic:

After being healed, formerly cracked Gems take longer to reform than Gems who were only poofed. Peridot will be okay eventually, she just hasn’t reformed quite yet.

Steven is still able to warp because he hasn’t quite passed the threshold of corruption that prevents a Gem from accessing the warp stream. I imagine it's very much a matter of mental connection, and having the right presence of mind to tap into it. Probably a few minutes after this, if Steven were to continue going downhill and his mind fully fell into the fog of corruption, he’d no longer be able to warp. He got super lucky here.

This potential future blindsided Garnet because previously- like how Steven’s newfound maturity threw her off as discussed in Pool Hopping- she hadn’t factored in the idea of Steven being in such a low mental state. Amethyst was the first to really see past his attempts to mask it because she personally had dealt with depression like this before and knew what it looked like.

Maybe one day after SUF airs I'll write more on this topic, but as for now this will remain a one-shot. I 100% imagine Steven would ultimately be okay in this timeline, though. They'd be able to help him, stop the corruption. Steven goes to heckin' therapy. He'll live on, he'll begin to recover and cope. But that's a whole 'nother story.

Thank you for reading!

[siribear]

whatever lurks beneath the pond in boston common continues to snore away when she returns. the ground vibrates as she walks to the other side of the park where the freedom trail begins. a protectron activates at her approach; metal footsteps clunk along the concrete path, its robotic voice reciting the history of the area.

what really catches her attention, though, is the large piece of plywood with a message written in white paint:

at journey’s end follow freedom’s lantern.

she looks down to the seal. it’s marked with paint she knows wasn’t there two hundred years ago. on this one, the start of the trail itself, an arrow points to the letter a with the number 7 written in the center. A-7. well, that ruins her plans of simply heading to the old north church.

she isn’t surprised that there’s a password involved in finding them.

so she follows the trail around, past the station entrance, up to the massachusetts state house. someone had been kind enough to fill in the missing trail with red paint. the railroad wants people to find it, perhaps. the state house seal has another part of the code: L-4. she makes a note in her pipboy, spacing out the letters. with a sigh, she follows the trail back down the road.

feral ghouls inhabit the graveyard with the next seal. two crouch in front of open graves, pawing at the dirt. those she takes out easily, one shot each, rotten flesh blowing apart with one shot to the head. at the noise, another three clamor out of the abandoned bus just outside the graveyard. somehow, they don’t see her, instead going over to the dead ferals. alice creeps around the bus, writes down the code on the seal, and leaves.

the painted red trail leads her right by a building manned by super mutants. they yell when they see her and begin firing immediately. alice runs, turning the corner, hoping to duck into a building. instead, she’s near-blinded by neon lights. goodneighbor - 

another spatter of bullets hits the ground near her. she follows the arrow further down the road, to a high, barricaded wall and a door. alice enters goodneighbor, leaving the super mutants behind.

her sudden entry draws the attention of a few people near the entry. two people in bowler hats and carrying submachine guns head outside behind her. there’s the sound of gunfire, then nothing. the two reenter and nod at her before heading back to their posts.

‘newcomer, huh?’

alice turns to see a man in a greaser jacket and jeans, staring her down. ‘yeah. wasn’t expecting the super mutants.’

he takes a step toward her. ‘welcome to goodneighbor,’ he says with a grin. ‘see what we just did for ya? that’s what insurance gets ya. first time’s free, but...’ he tilts his head. ‘gotta pay if you want us to help you out after this.’

‘insurance.’ she repeats dully.

‘yeah. personal protection and that shit. now, we’ll say - ’ he eyes her up and down. ‘you hand over everything you got. or accidents will start happenin’ to ya.’

she doesn’t have time for this. ‘i think you should back off - ’

‘time out, time out.’ another man walks forward from the shadows, dressed in a red coat and tricorn hat. alice blinks just to make sure she isn’t imagining it, but - no. he really is dressed like john hancock. ‘first time someone steps through the gate, they’re a guest. lay off the extortion crap.’

‘she ain’t one of us. shit, she led super mutants right to our door.’

‘pretty easy, considering they live right around the corner, finn.’ in the light, alice notices the man’s skin looks... dried out. his nose is missing, his eyes are pitch black, but still he smiles easily. ‘let her go.’

finn is none too happy, but steps away. ‘keep this shit up, hancock - ’ okay, now she’s losing it. ‘- and there’ll be a new mayor.’

hancock grins. ‘how about i let you in on a little secret?’ 

he steps toward finn until they’re face to face. he puts an arm around finn’s shoulders and bends his other arm behind him. finn is too distracted to notice the knife gleaming in hancock’s hand until it’s sticking out of his stomach. he wipes the bloody knife on his pants.

‘breakin’ my heart,’ he says to himself. to alice, ‘you all right there, sister?'

alice shrugs with a smile. ‘i’m fine, thanks. didn’t mean to start any trouble.’

‘don’t worry about it. goodneighbor is of the people, for the people, you feel me?’

she has to laugh. ‘i feel you.’

‘i think i’m gonna like you. just remember who’s in charge, sister.’

he turns and enters the state house, and it’s then she notices a woman standing in the shadows where hancock came from. the two lock eyes, the other woman grins, and follows hancock.

-

alice ends up trading some of her scavenged scrap with an assaultron manning - womanning? KLE0 had been very insistent - the ammo shop. by the end of their deal, she leaves with more ammo for Righteous Authority and a scope attached to her hunting rifle.

‘lady, you don’t wanna miss this,’ a ghoul in a tweed shirt tells her. alice follows her to the front of the state house where a group has already begun forming. hancock leans out over the balcony, looking over the crowd.

‘hey! glad our newcomer could make it. daisy! how’s my favorite girl doing? didn’t i see you out on a date with marowski?’

the ghoul that lead her to the speech laughs. ‘he wishes!’ the rest of the gathering crowd laughs along, but one man, presumably marowski, yells an indignant, ‘hey!’

hancock gives a rousing speech about sticking together, having each other’s backs. ‘and what out there would want to drive us apart? who would want to hurt our peaceful community?’

‘the institute and their synths!’ yells another voice.

‘that’s right. who said that? come up to my office later, you’ve earned yourself some jet.’ his grin grows as his speech goes on. ‘the institute. they’re the real enemy.’

alice half-pays attention to the speech after that. the crowd raises their fists and their voices by the end of it, yelling, ‘of the people! for the people!’ before dispersing. the institute - she wonders if hancock would know anything.

the area outside the state house has cleared out before she realizes it, everyone except her, the guards, and a few stragglers left behind while the others return to their shops.

‘what a day, huh?’

alice near-jumps. the man beside her stands with his hands on his hips, looking up at the empty balcony. he looks - familiar, with his bald head and sunglasses. though now he wears a flannel shirt instead of the padding armor of diamond city.

‘day off from guarding diamond city?’

she sees his eyebrows rise over those sunglasses. ‘think you’ve got the wrong guy, doll.’

she tilts her head, sure it’s him. same look, same voice, even. ‘sorry. guess i was thinking of someone else.’

‘nah, you’re all right.’ he grins and points at himself. ‘i’ve just got one of those faces, you know?’

alice laughs, not all together convinced. ‘yeah, i guess so. you, uh, take care out there.’

‘mhmm,’ he sticks his hands in his pockets. ‘you, too, doll.’

-

even after finn threatened to overthrow him, alice is still able to simply waltz up to hancock in his office. if office is the right word for it. he’s made his home in the upper level of the state house. smoke clouds the room, and she feels light headed just walking up to it.

‘hancock.’

‘hey, sister.’ he throws a hand up in a wave. the other is draped across the back of the couch he lounges on, one foot resting on the coffee table in front of him. ‘enjoy the speech?’

‘well enough. i have - a few questions, however.’

he puts both feet on the ground, boots hitting the wood floor with a loud thud. ‘i love an interrogation,’ he says lightly. ‘have a seat.’ she does, on the couch across from him. the woman from earlier stands behind her. ‘i hear you made a name for yourself in diamond city.’

‘i thought i was interrogating you?’ she rests her chin on bridged fingers, elbows propped up on her thighs. ‘but - i don’t know what you mean.’

‘sorry, sister. not often we get a celebrity in goodneighbor.’ he grins. ‘you saved nick valentine. and i hear you were digging around an abandoned house.’

she clucks her tongue. ‘word travels fast in the commonwealth. yes, to both.’

‘you’re all over diamond city radio. making waves, sister. but i have my own questions. who are you?’

‘alice,’ she says. ‘a question for a question, then?’

he leans back again. ‘i knew i liked you. go ahead.’

‘you mentioned the institute.’ he nods. ‘what do you know?’

a shrug. ‘as much as anyone else. replacing people with synths in the middle of the night. not sure what they’re up to, with that. my turn.’ black eyes blink, once. ‘what’s your interest in the institute?’

‘i’m looking for someone that might be working with them, but he’s disappeared. hence, that abandoned house.’ she attempts to lean back, but brushes against the other woman’s hands. she settles for leaning forward. ‘do you know a man named kellogg?’

his eyes widen. ‘the merc? yeah, i’ve heard of him. heard of his work. he’s efficient, i’ll give him that. what’s someone like you want with him?’

‘that’s personal,’ she warns. ‘just know that i want him dead.’

‘ha. all right, i’ll bite. why come to me?’

‘because you’ve already given me more than mayor mcdonough.’ he doesn’t bother to hide his frown at the mention of his name. ‘and i’ve run out of leads. let’s say i’m just - just trying to keep as many ears to the ground as i can.’

‘ask your question, alley cat.’

oh, she likes that one better than blue, for sure. ‘will you help me?’

‘what’s in it for me?’

alice sits up straighter, bats her eyes, and smiles. ‘having the general of the minutemen in your pocket can’t be a bad deal, can it?’

‘the minutemen. now there’s a name i haven’t heard in a while. and that’s you, sister? you’re responsible for cleaning out the raiders up north?’ she gives him a long mhmm. ‘all right, then. formidable, i like it. tell you what, we’ve got a merc of our own here in goodneighbor. hand him this - ’ his voice has been steady while they’ve talked, but when he leans over to a side table and a rattling pouch of caps, he wobbles. ‘ - tell him hancock wants him to look into kellogg. i’ll see what i can get out of anyone else.’

when he tosses her the caps, she catches it before it flies way over her head. ‘what’s his name?’

‘go downstairs to the third rail. tell ham you’re looking for maccready. he’ll tell you where to go.’

she weighs the caps in one hand. it’s quite a bit - guy must be good if he’s worth this much. ‘thank you, hancock.’

‘thank you, alley cat. i’ll let you know if i find anything out.’ he picks up an inhaler from the side table and brings it to his lips. a click, then he sighs. ‘by the way, my favor for leading you to maccready?’

she’s already halfway to the door when he’s spoken. she turns.

‘there’s a place near diamond city. people call it hangman’s alley. wouldn’t be a bad place for another minuteman outpost, huh? farenheit, show her on her - thing.’

the woman, farenheit, all height and silent intimidation, does as she’s told. alice brings up the map on her pipboy obligingly, allowing farenheit to create the marker herself.

‘hangman’s alley. i’ll keep it in mind.’

hancock laughs, low and slow, not even looking at her. ‘i’m sure you will. see you around.’

[onewhoturns]

fictober.23.: the first appointment

#Fictober19 Prompt: 23. You can’t give more than yourself. Fandom: Oxenfree Characters: Jonas, Duke (OC) Rating: T (no warnings apply) Tags: Angst-ish, emo Jonas, mental health & therapy Word Count: 2802

So... I'm posting this in order to maintain Fictober, but in all honesty this is actually a side scene/side story to a previously mentioned project that is still in the works and has yet to be posted. There may be some spoilers for the beginning of that fic. This is more an exploration of who this AU's version of Jonas is, how he's been affected by the things in his life- I'm calling it 'emo Jonas' but it may not be the type of emo you're expecting, I don't know.

If you want to read it when it comes up in the fic, it's looking like that would be anywhere from chapter 6 to chapter 9 (we're still in the midst of writing at the moment), and I'll update the summary and add it in as a related work when that becomes applicable.

For now, if you still want to read now (and it's cool if you don't), enjoy Jonas's first meeting with Duke, with no context to the rest of the story.

-

An appointment. ‘Like a doctor’s visit.’ Yeah. Well, maybe.

“Hey. You want to come on in?”

Jonas holds his breath for a second, standing from the waiting room to follow the man inside. The guy is in his early 30s, brown hair with a bit of gray starting in, just barely this side of messy, with glasses that look like he should be drinking craft brews at some gastropub in Portland. Duke. That’s a name, alright.

“Nice to finally meet in person.”

Jonas just nods. He’s not great at speaking to new people. Took him a couple weeks to start talking in intake. But he has kinda met Duke before. A pretty long phone interview, not to mention emails. They wanted to find a good therapist, and Camena had options. He’d settled on Duke.

“It’s nice to have all the paperwork out of the way already. Kind of a waste of session time, really.”

Jonas’s brows raise as he tips his head in acknowledgment and agreement.

Duke has a leg crossed over the other, and Jonas realizes, in retrospect, that the guy is actually his height. Maybe an inch shorter, but pretty damn close.

“How tall are you?” They’re the first words out of Jonas’s mouth, but they do their part.

“Six three. On a good day, anyway.”

“Nice.”

“Shoe size?”

“13.”

Duke winces audibly. “Damn, you beat me. 12 and a half.”

Jonas smirks a bit. And the ice is broken.

“You came from school?”

Jonas’s eyes wander to the side table between his chair and the unoccupied couch. He reaches for some kind of adjustable wire toy, turning it inside out and flipping it into different shapes. “Yup.”

“What’s your electives?” It’s a better question than ‘how was your day,’ at least. Duke’s foot is bouncing idly, as well.

“Gym and weight training; shop.”

“At CHS, right? Wilkinson still teaching wood shop?”

Wilkinson? “Yeah, I think that’s his name. Old guy, wears a lanyard with a whistle on it even though I don’t think he does any sports stuff?”

“Yep. He’s not too bad. Get him talking about baseball, that’s a thing. Does he still have that slugger in the workshop?”

“I… don’t know?”

“He’s got two, actually, I think. Louisville Slugger wooden bats, one official and one he made. If he still has it. I heard one year some kids stole it for a prank.”

“Kinda a dick move, the guy’s gotta be at least 70.”

“Yeah. Kids can be idiots. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Technically an adult, and I’d agree regardless.”

“When we talked before, you sounded kinda meh on the Individual Studies thing. How’s that looking?”

“It’s…” Jonas pulls a face. “Still meh on it. Some of the other kids are… ehh. Remind me of guys from North Valley, thinking they’re the shit. And the teachers - or whatever they’re called, aides? They’re a mixed bag. This one girl - woman, I guess - she seems pretty cool. Darcy. Good attitude, even if she seemed kinda fake at first.”

“I’m not sure I totally get what the course is, to be honest.”

“I mean, I’ve got three periods of it, it gets old fast. Though— I mean I guess they’re not all the same. First period for me seems more like… learning skills?” Jonas winces. “I dunno, it’s kinda cringey sometimes. And then third is gonna be assessment stuff— kinda miserable, just packets of standardized test questions and shit like that. Last period is chill though. Basically like a study hall for me, working on the stuff from the tests. And I’ve been getting out a little early, so I can-” He stops.

Duke waits a second for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, he lifts his chin from looking at the pad of paper in his lap (where Jonas can see little geometrical doodles as well as his illegible scrawl of whatever he’s noting). “A reminder; mandatory reporting doesn’t include stuff like truancy, just plans to harm yourself or others. And I consider ‘plans’ to actually mean plans.”

“So… there’s this girl, right?”

“A friend?”

Jonas hesitates. “Yyeahhh…”

“Or… sounds like maybe not just a friend?”

He shakes his head, “No, definitely just a friend, just… kinda insane.”

“Fun fact; ‘insane’ is really a legal term.”

Jonas rolls his eyes. “Kinda wild, then. Her and this other guy, too. They kinda like… adopted me?”

“Is that a positive or a negative?”

“I think it’s a positive? But— right, my point was, it gives me time to dip out the back and then meet them in the other parking lot.”

“Why the other parking lot?”

Jonas shoots Duke a flatly skeptical look. “Well they’re not gonna come meet me over in the ‘special’ wing.”

Duke huffs out a short laugh. “Wow, okay, strong feelings about IS are still there I see.” Even as Jonas is rolling his eyes again, he goes on. “So the wild duo. What kind of wild? You think they’ll get in the way of treatment?”

That makes him think for a second. “Um… no? I dunno. The guy is kinda stupid rich and somehow has a line to a shit ton of weed, apparently. Which could be a problem.”

Duke’s brows have risen high. “Could be, yeah. Does your JPPO do random testing? Think being around them could mess with your results?”

Jonas shakes his head. “Nah, they’re scheduled. Every other two weeks. And that should be done by the end of June, and the testing might be ditched entirely when we go down to only meeting once a month. Plus apparently he’s more of an edibles guy, so I’m not super worried about anything accidental. I can always just keep away for a few days before testing, shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Even though you’ve been adopted?”

He snorts a bit at that. “Guess I can’t know for sure. Not too worried, though.”

“That’s good. How exactly did you manage to get adopted?”

“The girl was my tour guide first day. I guess she thought I was cool, ‘cause she introduced me to her friend and… I dunno. We exchanged numbers and stuff. Texted. They’re kinda high energy for me, but also-” Jonas hesitates, rolling his eyes before continuing. “It’s weird, ‘cause Alex is kinda… popular? She’s a total dork, constantly jokes about being a witch, but it feels like everyone knows her? And likes her? It’s weird.”

“Huh. Are you saying you think they shouldn’t?”

“I’m saying…” Jonas shrugs. “Eh. She’s nice enough, I get that. But like… I feel like at North Valley she would’ve been… I mean, not disliked. Considered annoying, maybe, in large doses. Not exactly a class clown, but that same idea. More of a subject of entertainment than friendship.”

“That’s an interesting way of seeing things.”

“What do you mean?”

“Analytical.”

Jonas considers that for a second. “…Maybe? It’s just kinda how the world is, I’m not complaining about it or anything.”

“Are you unhappy about it?”

He shrugs. “No? Like I said; it’s just how it is. People offer certain benefits, right? Sometimes that’s, like… like someone who always knows the homework. If we’re thinking concretely here. And then there’s the one who always has a pencil you can borrow. —It’s like a study group sorta analogy. There’s someone who’s able to get everyone together at once, and someone who can talk to the teacher and argue on your behalf, but who you might not want to spend time with outside of class ‘cause they argue with everyone. And there’s a class clown type, who’s really entertaining but can sorta get in the way if you’re trying to be serious.” Jonas pauses again. “I mean, there’s a lot. But everyone kinda has their strengths and weaknesses, right? It’s like a teamwork thing.”

“So where do you fit in this?”

He thinks for a moment, still playing with the wire cage. “I dunno. I have a car.” That’s part of it at least, even if other things come to mind as well.

“You think that’s what people see you for? Your car?”

Jonas’s lips pull. “I’m not saying that’s my only redeeming quality, I know I’m not just some dude with a car. That’s just, like, the prime benefit.”

“What else?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your other ‘redeeming qualities.’”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m— I know I have them, okay? I’m- I have skills. But they aren’t- y’know, like, my function in a social group.”

“What if you didn’t have your car? You can’t give more than yourself— what qualities do you think you’re bringing.”

“…Alex seems to think my height is a benefit.”

“She obviously has not been 6’3 and attempted to sit in a compact sedan.”

Jonas cracks a smile. “Yeah it’s cute, she’s not tiny but both her and Ren are like… she said it before, I don’t remember what it was 5’5 or 6 or something. Joked about needing me to retrieve pickle jars or whatever.”

“So you’re the guy with the car and the pickle-getter.”

“Sure.”

“That all?”

“Well- I mean, the tall thing is also like—” he waves a hand, “-y’know, the other tall stuff.”

“Can’t say I know what you mean, apart from reaching things and being asked about the weather.”

“You know.” Jonas fidgets slightly. Duke has to know that part of things. “The kinda… intimidation thing.”

“How do you mean?”

Jonas’s lips pull again in that vague passing annoyance. “You know. Being tall and looking— not scary exactly, but like… imposing, I guess. Basically looking like someone you don’t want to mess with.”

“And that’s what you think you bring to a friendship?”

“Yeah. Like… like a bodyguard or something.”

“You think your friends are in danger you have to protect them from?”

“No- well.” He lets out a short sigh, a rueful smirk hooking his lips. “Not yet, anyway. And once they are, I’m betting they’ll have put themselves into it.”

“What does the whole ‘bodyguard’ thing mean, then?”

“Um.” A few images pass through Jonas’s mind, and he hesitates, face impassive for a second before he shrugs again. “Trying to keep her from getting hurt. I guess.”

“…That doesn’t really sound like something based solely on height.”

His fingers twitch, and Jonas’s ears feel warm. “Look, I spent a year in juvie for physical assault. It might not just be the height.”

“You think she wants you to fight for her? Is this like… an American Gladiators kinda thing, or…?”

The laugh is just a huff of breath, but the corners of Jonas’s mouth are lifting. “I don’t think she wants me to fight. I’m just— And I don’t want to fight!” he assures Duke. “But like… there’s probably some element of ‘this guy makes a good meat shield’ or whatever.”

“You ever think they might just… like you? Like just, as you?”

He snorts. “I— I’m not saying they don’t! I mean, at the very least they tolerate me, and I assume they must like me, otherwise we wouldn’t text all the time. It’s really easy to ignore someone’s texts and make excuses.” Jonas isn’t even mad about the question, it’s so far removed from how he feels. “I’m just saying that there’s this fringe benefit for them.”

“And is that how you see them, as well?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Honestly, they’re my allies right now. Not in a bad way - I like them, they’re fun - but at the moment their function in my social circle is connecting me to my new community, right? They’re transitional aids, like a kinda PREP thing. Or IS. I mean, she was a tour guide.”

“Sounds kinda dehumanizing.”

“It’s not meant to be. I’m— Look, we talked all the time about support systems and community engagement, and buying in, right? So, I’m building a support system of peers.”

Duke cocks his head, looking mildly bemused.

“What?”

“It sounds like you know the words pretty well.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t talk much. Mostly listened.”

“Is that really how you think about the people around you? As… I don’t know, bricks in your support structure?”

“I mean, it’s not the only thing I’m thinking. I like the company, I like the distraction, they’re fun. But…” Another one-shouldered shrug. “I dunno, man, call it a justification if you want.”

“What do you mean?”

Jonas sighs. “Gives me a reason to keep trying.” Again, it’s not said in anger, or even in sadness. Just a straightforward factual statement.

“What would you do if you didn’t think of things that way?”

“Can’t know for sure, obviously. But— I dunno. Call it distress tolerance. Giving them a function gives me a reason to tough it out. Like—” He pauses. “…Yeah, no, I can’t figure out an analogy for the brick thing. Sticking with people instead of being— transient.”

“Transient.”

“Kinda drifting around. Moving through things.”

“You think you’re transient?”

“I think I’d survive without friends. Until shit started to go wrong, I guess.”

Duke is quiet, eyes narrowed like he’s trying to parse the statement, considering. “…I’m not sure I get it.”

“I like people, but all the— politics, I guess. It stresses me out. I’d rather just… not. At least, in group things. School, juvie— the social dynamic is this constant thing where you’re maintaining. Don’t shit where you eat and all that. Don’t fuck it up, you’re stuck there. All this work to not make things worse for yourself. Honestly, I’d rather just see people when I see them. All day every day is… a lot.”

“…Can I ask you a question?” He’s leaning forward, and his tone is a different kind of curious than he has been.

“I mean… that’s literally all you’ve been doing.”

“Your residential center, your stepdown stuff— they had GED programs. Why come back to high school?”

Jonas is spinning the little wire toy around one finger steadily, keeping an eye on it to avoid having it fly off, even as he picks up speed. “Dad wanted me to.” His stomach dips, and his voice is a little quieter. “Mom would, too.” He’s silent for a second, still spinning. “And it’s supposed to be good for me. Community engagement, support structures, all that.”

“Why do you think they wanted you to do school?”

“I mean, my mom was a teacher. My dad… just wants me to be well-adjusted. I think he wants me to feel normal again.”

“What do you think?”

Jonas’s gut has been steadily, gradually, slowly but surely filling with lead. He breathes evenly. Too evenly. Actively making the attempt. When he speaks, it’s a low mutter. “Not sure that’s possible, if we’re being honest.”

“Why not?”

He shakes his head. “I dunno. Things just— changed. Can’t really undo that.”

“…I mean, I agree that you can’t live in the past. Things happened, you can’t undo them, but you also can’t spend every minute thinking about them. I know mindfulness tends to get a bad rap ‘cause it’s sort of trendy in the mental health field right now, but there’s definitely a ton of upsides to it.”

“I’m… vaguely familiar.” Jonas’s voice is a bit wry.

“So you know the whole idea of where you’re living. The goal is being present. So not living in the past, or in the future, but in the here and now, without judgment.”

“…Okay…”

Duke is still bouncing his foot a bit. “What do you think? Like— really consider it for a second. What that means.”

“What, living in the present?” Duke shrugs in a casual kind of confirmation. Jonas sighs, fixes his eyes on the therapist, and tries to do as asked. “…I guess I just feel like that’s asking for trouble.”

“How so?”

“I mean… thinking about the future is kinda important. Otherwise you fuck things up and can’t undo them.”

“Who says you can’t?”

Jonas snorts. “You? Like… a minute ago?”

“I guess— maybe it’s just the use of ‘undo.’ You can’t rewind and make something not have happened, but you can control how you handle the consequences, how you potentially repair the situation, your reactions to things, all of that. But if you’re constantly fearing every possible outcome of anything you do… you do nothing.”

“So you’re saying not to think of consequences. You want me to just go party and violate parole and not care what might happen?”

“Well, no.” Duke actually rolls his eyes. “Hell— it’s a delicate balance, right? But some part of that has to be just allowing yourself to exist without judgment.”

“O…kay?”

“Or analysis.”

“…Ah.”

“I mean, it’s not like I’m advocating underage drinking or drugs or truancy or anything, but… You’re out, y’know? You’re in this do-or-die headspace, but your situation has changed dramatically. Now’s your chance to go back to being a kid. Live a little.”

[source for AO3]

[nonbinarypastels]

💖tips for people starting high school (or even middle school) this year!💖

🍀 if you're worried about getting lost get a map of the school. i guarantee you every school has a map (they need them in order to plot emergency exit plans) and you can get these either by popping in to your school office and asking the people at the front desk if they have one or by just looking online. mark the location of your classes on the map, jot down your class schedule, and keep it out with you until you can figure out how to get to your classes by memory.

🍀 if you actually do get lost don't be afraid to ask someone for help. my first day of high school i was walking all over the damn place for a good 20 minutes looking for a classroom before i finally went to the front office and asked for directions (i had somehow entirely missed a wing of the school in my wanderings and that was where the class was, yikes). teachers and other adult staff are the best to ask but if none are around find a kid that looks older than you and ask them. someone will know where you need to go and will be able to point you in the right direction, you just have to be willing to ask them as soon as you've realized you have no clue where the hell you're going instead of walking around like a lost duck for so long like i did.

🍀 write your locker combination down somewhere that's easily accessible. even if you're like "ha! it's only three numbers, i can remember that!" write it down. and if you're not comfortable or familiar with using combination locks, look up how to use them online - watch a video or two - and maybe write the instructions for which way to turn them down too. it's not hard but it can be tricky, especially if you've never used a combo lock before and you're already dealing with new school jitters that can throw you off.

🍀 familarize yourself with the rules of your school. your teachers will probably give you a rule booklet on your first day but if not then the rules are likely available to view online. this tip isn't here to be a buzzkill but to caution practicality: different schools have different rules. some of those rules may be weird, some may be unfair, but in any case it's always a good idea to know what is/isn't allowed in your school so you can avoid doing anything that might get you punished (or at least so you'll know that you should hide what you're doing so you don't get caught). specifically be sure you know rules that are about your school's dress code, their policy on snacks and drinks in the classroom (this may be something you need to ask individual teachers about as well, as different teachers may have different views on this), whether phones or other devices are allowed in school, and if you take any kind of medications (down to an over the counter tylenol or benadryl) whether you're allowed to bring those or if you need to fill out some kind of form to get permission first.

🍀 buy your own mini pencil sharpener. these were never on any of my school supply lists but they're one of those things that you're better off having and not needing than needing and not having (trust me you don't want to get up and walk all the way across the room during a test or something to use the teacher's sharpener, they're big and loud and they annoy everyone).

🍀 make it a habit to write things down! write down all of your homework assignments and any projects, their due dates, and any quizzes/tests your teacher tells you about. also go through your planner and mark out any days that your school will be closed or closing early. some schools give out planners at the beginning of every year (mine did) but if yours doesn't then buy one for yourself. it doesn't have to be fancy or anything, they sell decent ones for cheap at stores like dollar tree. just make sure that you use it! it will make your life 100x easier.

🍀 if you're someone who has a period make sure you have a small bag of necessary supplies with you in your bookbag. include a few pads, tampons, or whatever you use. different schools have different policies on bringing medication (such as ibuprofen, tylenol, or other pain killers you might use for cramps + other period symptoms) so please be aware of what your school's policy is before you bring a bottle of pills or even a few loose pills to school with you; even if it's an over the counter drug you can still get in trouble for bringing it to school without permission. if you're not sure of your school's policy your best bet is to drop by the school nurse's office and ask them about it. don't be too embarrassed to talk about period stuff with them, school nurses have seen/heard everything and they are not going to judge you.

🍀 don't freak out about where to sit at lunch. seriously. movies and tv shows make a big deal about this (mean girls, anyone?) but in reality it's just not that big of a deal. if you're lucky you'll share a lunch period with people you know and like and will be able to sit with them but if you don't then don't worry too much about it, either. try finding a table that seems mostly empty and sit down there. people you don't know will probably sit with you and this is okay---you're not obligated to introduce yourself but you're also not obligated to not introduce yourself either, be polite and maybe smile and say hey if you want or just nom your food and mind your business. these kids are no different from you, they just want to eat, and chances are they'll be perfectly fine. if you can't find a mostly empty table, then look for an empty seat next to someone who looks more focused on eating. ask them if you can sit there. 9 times out of 10 they will say yes. sit, eat, wait for the bell, go. repeat the next day. eventually, it'll just be another part of the routine.

🍀 don't bring anything expensive to school unless it can fit in your locker (and you're willing to keep it there) or you know you can keep it with you at all times. i'm not saying your stuff is going to get stolen but i've seen it happen before---kid comes to school, shows off their phone or ipod or something, goes to the bathroom leaving the thing unattended, and whoops! it's gone when they come back. be responsible with your things, especially if they're things you wouldn't want to lose. and if you don't absolutely NEED to bring a thing to school, consider leaving it at home.

🍀 don't bring drugs, alcohol, weapons, or anything else illegal to school. this is common sense y'all. if you don't want a police dog to start barking at your locker and to get in some serious trouble then leave the weed at home where the cops actually need a warrant or some kind of probable cause to come in and find it. the school building is not yours and your locker is not yours, it's the schools. don't bring anything into the school that you're not okay with school staff and school cops finding.

🍀 turn your phone off before you go into the school in the morning. there are very few ways to piss a teacher off quite as quickly as having your phone ring while they're in the middle of speaking or the class is in the middle of a test. not only will they be angry but it's also just super embarrassing and will probably end up with you getting your phone confiscated. also, don't text during class. i know it's tempting but it's not worth getting in trouble for. keep it off and if you can't trust yourself to keep it off then keep it at home.

🍀 manage your time between classes wisely. know how much time there is between class letting out and the bell for the next class ringing and know how long it will take you to get to your next class from where you're at. socializing is good and healthy but don't burn up all of the time you have between classes hanging out talking to people in the hallway because it can wind up making you late. make sure you pee if you've gotta pee and that you have everything you need for your next class.

and for a lot of you beginning middle or high school is usually the first time you'll have a gym class where you have to change your clothes in a locker room or shower around other students. this can obviously cause a lot of anxiety, especially for those of you who might deal with body image issues so here are a few tips for how to potentially deal with that as well as other locker room tips:

🍀 a lot of gym locker rooms have bathroom stalls attached and you can potentially get changed in those rather than out in the open with everyone else. note that some gym teachers may not be okay with students doing this. if that's the case then they'll likely tell you about it on day one of gym class. if they don't mention it then consider it okay but if they don't allow people to get changed in the bathroom then you can always slip into a regular school bathroom prior to gym class and change your clothes there and then change into your regular clothes after gym. as long as you manage your time wisely and don't take too long and wind up late for gym or your next class, you shouldn't get in trouble for this.

🍀 if you have body image issues about how your upper body looks you can consider wearing a long tank-top underneath your regular clothes and, after you change out of your regular clothes, just put your gym shirt on on top of the tank top. you're still changing but no one is actually seeing your chest/skin which reduces some of the anxiety.

🍀 if you have body image issues about your lower body or people seeing you in your underwear you can consider wearing boxers or some kind of shorts-like underwear instead of briefs. these cover more skin than briefs do which can, again, reduce anxiety. no matter what your gender identity is there should be some kind of underwear like this in a pattern/color/material that is comfy for you. alternatively, you could also wear thin leggings under your regular pants (though this may not be feasible for you during summer when it's really hot out).

🍀 if you don't want to shower after gym, no one can force you. just make sure to have a clean set of clothes to change into, make sure you wear deodorant, and carry a packet of nicely scented wipes in your gym bag to wipe down with after gym is over. maybe also spritz a bit of perfume or scented water in your hair.

🍀 keep a pair of fresh socks in your gym bag. everyone knows to bring their gym clothes but a lot of people forget to bring a pair of clean socks and you really need to. your feet will get sweaty and hot and even if they don't start to stink it's still going to be really uncomfortable to wear them until you get home.

🍀 actually wash your gym clothes. YMMV, i don't know how much y'all sweat or stink, but be sure you wash your gym clothes at least once a week because no matter what your body odor level is they will start to stink after awhile. if your clothes get particularly funky then wash them in a mix of antibacterial soap and baking soda---the soap will kill the germs and the baking soda will make them smell good again.

🍀 and speaking of stink, if your gym shoes start to smell funky buy some baking soda spray and spray the hell out of them too.

🍀 be respectful of other people in the locker room. don't make comments about other people's bodies that could make them feel uncomfortable or upset. if you make any kind of mess, clean it up. if the locker room has bathroom stalls attached, don't hog them - always be aware of how much time you're spending in there or in front of the mirror and whether there's anyone standing around who needs to get into a stall or use a sink. and if you use perfume or body spray or any other kind of aerosol, for the love of god and asthmatics everywhere, don't use too much of it---not to call anyone out but you young dudes out there who are just beginning your manly love affair with AXE body spray need to be especially on notice over this. when i was in middle school boys used so much AXE that you could see the waves of it drifting out of their locker room and making its way across the gym. i know y'all want to smell good but that shit can choke people out, i promise you that you don't need to use quite THAT much in order to smell nice.

🍀 stand up to bullying and body shaming when you see it happen. if you see something, say something. if another student is being bullied in the locker room, stand up for them. sometimes the only thing it takes for a bully to stop is for other people to tell them to shut the fuck up and make it clear that their behavior isn't acceptable. reach out to classmates of yours who you see being bullied and body shamed even when you don't know them. you don't have to be friends with someone in order to understand that they deserve to be treated with kindness and respect. defend people who are being attacked and taken advantage of and make sure they know that they deserve better.

💖 💖 if i missed anything please feel free to add on to this list!!! 💖 💖