#i cant keep doing this your therapists’ are going to tell you to stop following meeee 😭😭

[theolddivorcedzukka]

you can take the girl out of the hamilton fandom but it takes one breakdown to get the girl back into a certain aspect of hamilton’s story and then it’s hard to shut her off now. sorry

[organic-guacamole]

episode 210 here we go

awww seb doing the intro

congratulations to milky white and her baby chocolate milk😌

seb is so funny

but seriously, clean up that milk fast or else it will smell so bad in there....

was that Lauryn just randomly doing cartwheels? idk any theatre kids irl but that seems like it's a common thing...

is it just me or has ms Jenn been getting more harsh to Ricky and Seb mainly-

like what did they do to her

no because I actually snorted with laughter at the "you came back" WHAT IS THAT VOICE-

AND THE MASK OMG

yeah so my throat hurts now

I'm dying over here

KOURTNEY'S FACE

SAME GIRL SAME

Ricky's fake death got the whole place in tears /s

he looks like an asthmatic walrus

Seb's on piano, I love

we all know if he was the beast we'd all actually be crying✋

ok but I listen to Julia's version of home on Spotify when I want to cry-

right so gimme a second

is Ricky scratching his face.....while he's dying?

"belle i-" *flop*

round of applause to Ashlyn for trying to make Ricky's earthworm seizure look less.... yknow

Kourtney's just dying there

WAIT IS THAT NATALIE

did she really just disappear for 9 episodes just to come back and stare dramatically into the camera

WAIT SCRATCH THAT SHES HERE TO MURDER ASHLYN AND RICKY

oh so Ricky's wearing a gay shirt now too

so that's the real reason why Rini broke up, see y'all next season when Gini and caswen become canon /j

wait that was a long intro scene-

what was that look Carlos-

TALK TO MY BOY OR ELSE

carlos' run is so funny to me

therapist Ashlyn to the rescue

"that is...super" son you good?

ms Jenn call Benjamin, he would willingly put his loved ones on a rocket and blast them into Venus for you....

maybe

"I don't want you kids to be disappointed" girl you do realise you're the one that's most invested in this?

"a smooth opening night" wasn't there just 1 show though-

like their opening night was closing night too

"I think I was Troy at one point" PLEASE THATS THE MOST ACCURATE DESCRIPTION OF THE SEASON 1 FINALE

me Jenn looks like a serial killer during that clap and I'm lowkey scared for zacky

"I have notes"

oo if you're taking suggestions, lemme get my list

"mother is freaking out" uhhhhhh

right....'mother"

"is everyone sitting down?"

*looks around awkwardly*

*big red slowly sits*

"no..."

please seb was the only one sitting-

does that mean Carlos looked at Seb as soon as he walked in and assumed that everyone else was sitting too or am I a seblos clown🤡

"is this about the transformation"

WOW MAYBE OT IS RICKY

WOW HES A DETECTIVE FOR FIGURING THAT OUT SO QUICK🤩

YO WHY IS NATALIE HERE-

she just shows up when it's convenient? is she gonna be at the sleepover too?

Seb's heavy swallow after Carlos shouts at him makes me so sad

"I never learned how to lie but I figure if I keep my mouth closed, I can't tell the truth" *nods and smiles at Nini when she asks*

why are they casually standing up all over the pizza shop, just sit at a big table and talk instead of blocking passageways and blocking off at least 6 tables-

"how about I invite myself" WHY DO PEOPLE ALWAYS FEEL THE NEED TO INVITE THEMSELVES TO ASHLYN'S HOUSE-

YOU CAN ASK BUT JUST FORCE YOUR WAY IN?

so Cash Caswell has a bigger house than... Dennis Caswell.... who would've thought

ah yes there's the good old EJ 1.0

Nini: "boys vs girls"

Gina: *looks devastated and glances longingly at EJ*

way to be inconspicuous

"but north high should be" *cracks her knuckles in the most uncomfortable way*

good for Ashlyn for getting more confident though

oo bossy big red

"i get bossy around the power tools"

is that why Ashlyn was holding up the drill in episode 8 orrrr 🤠

oh

Lily, leave him alone please

she's literally not blinking, is that what makes her creepy?

the diss at big red and his face afterwards is priceless

isn't that similar to what Gina's mom said to her in season 1? hmmmm

but seriously please don't try to redeem lily, let us have a character to hate, or to love because they're evil.

not everyone's a good guy.

"im not liked here and I don't know what to do"

let antoine finish his salad and it'll fix everything

"hug emoji" *gags*

y'all realize Lily's literally 14?

why is she calling a 16/17 year old from another school for personal advice-

"he gets weird around tools"

I shouldn't be laughing so hard

"deja vu maybe?" awkward silence

I'm dying here I love EJ so so so so much

"where's seb"

*cuts to seb being held hostage hoping that they'd notice he's missing and go look for him*

"don't ask"

"oh ok"

"100% real faux fur" as you should queen

sponsored by target

Kourtney is singlehandedly saving the entire show.

Seb making finger guns make me happier than it should

why is this kinda making me want to have a co-ed sleepover with my non-existent theatre friends

YES YOU DO NEED TO TALK/SING TO SEB CARLOS THANK YOU FOR KNOWING THAT

wait what-

you haven't talked to him all WEEK-

Carlos are you stupid /hj

Benjamin is so adorable I can't

he turned around to come back for her instead of going home. you're "what do you want Jenn🙄X act isn't fooling anyone Benjamin 🙃

10101

1+4+16= 21st?

they placed 21st?

or do I just not remember how to convert to base ten

GIRL DON'T BE RUDE TO HIM, HE'S GONNA SAVE YALL

no ms Jenn, the kids are not eccentric 35 year olds.

aww sebby

is he thinking that Carlos is only with him cuz he's the only other openly gay guy at school-

son you are a perfect little bean don't put yourself down

yes they all ship portwell as they should.

they'll be throwing risotto at the wedding.

not the chocolates. stop there are no chocolates. please stop I'm dying.

Gina you don't have to explain yourself to her

it was a misunderstanding and it's in the past

why is Ashlyn still laughing-

exactly it wasn't a big deal please just move on Nini

Kourtney really be out here saving everything

WHY IS ASHLYN STILL LAUGHING

why do I feel like when Gina finally told Ash about it, she didn't think it was that funny but wanted to feel included in the inside joke so now she brings it up randomly to show that she's in on it....I totally don't do that...

"idk, the farmer type" oh son...

Ashlyn and big red are just spilling the secrets back and forth huh?

OOO EJ AND GINA SITTING IN A TREE K-I-S-S-I-

cmon guys don't look at me like that-

"she is the best" and "we're buddies" don't sound right together

"pretty boy" "sweet boy" best ways to describe EJ

I love him.

and aw he's scared of rejection so he'll hold back just to keep her happy and not awkward how sweet

is Ricky wondering if letting her go(literally his song from last episode) was the best thing he did for Nini because he doesn't feel like it now? hmmm this is getting good

why is everyone so invested in Kourtney and Howie's relationship

PACK UP THE LAZY RICKY THING

oh yes Benji, that's exactly what she's doing

she couldn't follow her dream or whatever so now she's using the kids to gain some of the success she craves. why else would she have that massive hsm poster with her name on it in huge letters in her office.

just casually grab his hand with both your hands and stare at him creepily 🥰

ship jennzzara y'all

the first bump was a missed opportunity to do the baymax "falalala" as a reference to the fact that they watched big hero six while committing arson✋

wait so big red and EJ just left Ricky in the basement and now Ricky invited Carlos when they're supposed to be at the stage?

help no Ricky looks like he's about to tell Carlos he likes him (I know it's about writing the song for seb but still, look at his body language and tell me it doesn't look like that)

Ricky is so mature about this, he really just wants Nini to be happy even though he's hurting-

baby you deserve love, maybe Nini isn't the one for you but don't say you don't deserve it

why does he keep adding bro to the end like he doesn't know how to address Carlos

PLEASE CARLOS HAVING TO ADDRESS THE BRO THING

"let's write a song when we have like 45 minutes to get to the place and help our friends possibly win $50000 at the show in 2 weeks"

"can you hit a high C?"

"that's like the bottom of my range"

why am I laughing

this is so cool to see friendship interactions that we don't normally get to see

Nini why are you being like this-

Gina did nothing wrong??

I saw that, EJ and Gina being the only ones going in the same direction👀

right so obviously Kourtney's waiting until after the menkies to get back with Howie just in case he really is just using her as a way in to east high... obviously... right?

CARLOS

OK ITS COMING GET READY YALL

Why is portwell so awkward all of a sudden

OMG EJ

OMG GINA SAY YES or not, do what you want.

the way she doubts that EJ would genuinely ask so she has to make sure it's not Ashlyn behind it

OH

THE "NOT THAT I KNOW OF"

LIKE WHAT GINA SAID TO JACK ABOUT EJ BEING HER BOYFRIEND

GUYS THEY'RE SOULMATES

I want risotto now please

THEY'RE SO SWEET AND ADORABLY AWKWARD ITS LIKEEK LITTLE KIDS

OOOOOOO what is this place that seblos is in, looks fancy....and secluded

oh wait no Ricky's just standing there

wait is it the bomb shelter

it looks so good what

HSKAGSJAGAJAGWISGSKAUASBWKSVAIWBAISBQKSHIQBWOABWOABDOQBZIQBAIAQBSIWBQISVQKSIANSGOQBSAISBKASBKWBAIABQOSBBSJAHAJAVAJSBAJHSKAHSJAHAJAJAAJAHHHHHHHH

@youranxiousnerd ARE YOU OK?

CUZ IM NOT OK

LOOK AT SEBBY'S FACE

LOOK AT HOW ADORABLE IT IS

THE LYRICS ARE KILLING ME

SEBLOS IS KILLING ME

I AM DEAD

PLEASE SEND HELP

I like to imagine that Frankie and Joe practiced this in their apartment and just had a blast with it.

or maybe that Frankie practiced in secret like what Joe did for the climb

OH THE SUITS

THATS WHERE THAT CLIP IN THE PROMO WAS FROM

AWWW SEBBY'S SO CUTE

HE'S A LITTLE MARSHMALLOW

they're still so awkward with the dance I cant

let's appreciate Frankie's voice though

this episode really was made just for the seblos and portwell stans and you gotta love it

BIG RED GET OUT

WHY DOES HE ALWAYS DO THIS

Seb's little "yeah" IS ADORABLE

you can't tell me that wouldn't have been the best time for them to say I love you....IF FREAKIN BIG RED WASN'T THERE

ok but wait Ricky needs more hugs like that, look at his face

the boy needs love

"bro" please don't let Ricky and Carlos go back to not talking because their friendship is amazing

EJ laughing at Ricky sounding like a cat coughing up a furball is so funny to me

RICKY'S FLOP GETS ME EVERYTIME

I knew it was too good to be true

ok so Ricky's dead, next in line please

this episode was so short but I love it so much. this is what I signed up for for season 2✋

[missrandomdreamer]

How about this for a prompt or two (no pressure tho!) what circumstances brought Hope to the village in the Coiled And Cursed AU? And who was the first to find her- some villagers, a Lord, perhaps even some lycans? and maybe for Rusted Cages- does Chris get suspicious of how much time Heis is hanging around a civilian like Hope? Does he intervene, or does he sit back and watch to see what'll happen?

Thank you so much for these prompts! I love both of them! I will do both but will have to break it up into two parts cause it seems they have gone longer than anticipated XD So here is a story for the first one of Coiled and Cursed followed by some more detailed answers to it. I will do the Rusted Cages one in a separate post but link this back to it. I really enjoyed writing this and it has helped immensely so thank you so so much!

Coiled and Cursed: Cold Case   

    Hope shifted her black  bag on her shoulder while she held onto it’s strap her knuckles white. She had kept telling herself things would be fine, she was told to be adventurous and she was. To be fair, leaving her home back in the States to come visit a foreign country all by herself was adventurous enough she had thought but she was trying to step out of her comfort zone, and trust people.  As she fiddled with a pocket knife in her pants pocket, reminding herself it was there, as she heard the cab drive off. It left her at the entrance of the  silent wood, there were no other cars parked in the lot, she was alone-alone about to walk into a haunted wood.  A part of her thought briefly, maybe she should have gone with the others to explore the city. It would have been safe,  right? Safer than deciding to go to a haunted woods alone.  “No, not this time. It’s time for you to go on your own, and you have your phone to contact them and a knife if need be. You’ll be fine,  Hope.”  The others  happened to be her current flat mates while she was having her trip in Romania: Cassandra (or Cass as she liked to be called) had come from Russia  to study Starčevo–Körös–Criș culture,she was the oldest of their little group. Then there was Jamie and Amelia, a couple  from the UK who had both decided to do a backpacking trip across Europe.

    Despite just having met they all seemed to mesh really well together but just like with every group being around some people for too long can be taxing. Hope needed a breather and in all honesty, she did want to attempt to go somewhere alone by herself to prove to herself and someone else. “Not every place you go to  has shadows lurking to swallow you up. Not every stranger is a killer, a rapist or a pedophile. It’s important to be safe Hope, but you can’t keep thinking everywhere you go there is someone going to hurt you. That’s no way to live, in constant fear, you are gonna let things pass you by if you have that mindset. Just trust your gut-”

“How can I tell the difference between gut feeling and paranoia?”

“You can’t, it’s just something you will have to figure out for yourself and take the plunge. You can be careful and still be at ease, Hope. Don’t let fear run your life though, or things are gonna pass you by.”

“I don’t believe that.You cant be careful and at ease at once.” Hope thought back onto the conversation she had with a previous professor. It had been a missed opportunity for a study abroad when she was back in college those years ago. She missed the trip, she had let her fear stop her from going. He had been disappointed but somewhat understanding. However she still felt he was upset with her, she had let him down in some way. She had let herself down. It was true, fear did control most of her life now but she had made it this far hadn’t she? He would have been proud of her now, so would her therapist. “I did it. I traveled alone to a country not of my own and I’m going into a haunted forest all by myself. See?  I am not a failure after all.”  It was childish thinking but it was the voice that whispered and protested in her mind quite a lot. 

    Hope shivered, suddenly realizing that despite having done all of that, she hadn’t actually  gone into the woods yet. The young woman took in a breath:  four seconds, hold: four seconds,  release: four seconds. She could do this. She made it this far. The violet haired woman checked her pockets again for her knife, then for her phone that was in the back of her pants pocket, adjusted her bag on her shoulder then with another deep breath walked into the woods. Most people would have gone during the morning or day but not Hope. “It’s haunted, no ghosts are gonna come out during the day, you have to go at night to see anything.”  The sun was setting so she did have a bit of light but not much, there would be a full moon though tonight so she would have light. She wouldn’t be out here for too long anyway. It would all be fine. Hope double checked the map near the entrance of the forest for the path she would take. It would be a relatively shorter walk, a basic loop around and then she would be done. 

    A fog had already started to play at her feet while she walked. The woods themselves were silent of any creatures but the wind through the old gnarled branches created a haunting melody. Hope kept watching for movement around her and ears open to anything at all. Hope was aware of the stories, people coming in and not coming out for years, or coming out with rashes and even strange UFO sightings but the young woman wanted to check it out for herself. The fog was getting thicker around her feet, it was easy to see people getting lost in here and thinking they had seen ghosts. As Hope walked further into the woods , she noticed the trees were so close together blocking out the sky practically, some even bent or curved strangely, something unique to this forest she heard.  Hope shivered and brought her purple sweater around her more. 

    How long had she been walking? Not that long right?  Hope tried to hum to herself but her making any sort of noise felt like an insult to the forest.  The path winded in front of her and she followed it. She walked deeper and deeper into the haunted wood, the light was dimming. She turned on her flashlight now on her phone and did a sweep of the area in front of her. It was then just as the last light had ebbed from the sky that she heard it. A rustle of feathers, a distant caw of crows, which was strange. She hadn’t seen any wildlife at all, “Must be some birds resting up in the trees, maybe the light startled them?”  However as she thought that now craning her head above her,scared she might get shit on by birds she heard it. 

The sound made her stop dead in her tracks, her breath hitched and she went cold. It was a whimper, crying, from somewhere in the woods. She strained her ears, maybe it was the wind? No, it definitely wasn’t the wind. The crying seemed to fall and rise on the wind though, but it wasn’t the wind,  it couldn’t have been. Hope swallowed something, her whole body shaking. She looked this way and that flashing her light, but she couldn’t see anything. In any horror movie what she did next was a red flag, but at the moment she couldn't think about that,

“Hello? Is-is someone there?” Hope’s voice was a mere quiver and crack, hardly enough for anyone to hear her.

The crying continued but Hope couldn’t move. She just looked around frozen in place. Hope could feel her heart beating faster and faster, her breath already starting to shorten.A whole tremor went through her body, “Hello! Is someone there? Are you-are you hurt?” Her voice finally grew louder but it still cracked with fear. The whimpering immediately subsided, which caused Hope’s heart to fall. 

“Hello! Someone help me!” It was a young girl’s voice. “I’m hurt I can’-I can’t move, please, help me!”

 “Oh fuck!”   Hope cursed under her breath, her body and mind doing a total 180. Hope immediately started to move and look around more frantically. “Where are you? Keep speaking, I’ll find you!”  Something clicked in her and all self preservation went out the window. There was someone out there lost and hurt? A child possibly? No thought of it being a ghost at all came to her mind or her own mind playing tricks: mother bear mode came into play. 

    “I’m here! I’m here!”  The girl’s voice grew and quietened on the wind. Hope tried to keep to the path but the voice was pulling her from it. Shit! She couldn't leave the path or she would be lost for good. The violet haired woman quickly checked the compass on her phone. She would try to memorize the direction and then follow it out, that was the only thing she could hope to do now. She couldn't leave her flashlight as a guide or she couldn’t find the girl.  A mere flicker of Hansel and Gretel  flashed in her mind, she didn’t have bread crumbs but she did have a knife. She withdrew her knife and nicked the tree with an H then started off the path. Every few feet she  would mark the tree, that would be another indication of where she came from.

“Keep talking! I’ll find you!” Hope shouted her voice was wavering though. She was scared not only for the child but the intense situation was making her anxious. “What is around you? Any landmarks?” 

    “I-I dont know! The woods all look the same I-I… wait! Flowers? There are flowers here! I think I’m near a stream, I-I hear water I passed a well I think not to long ago.”  The frail voice spoke.  Hope nodded  eyes daring all over, marking a tree as she passed, okay flowers. Stream and a well she could work with that.  

    “Okay just-just keep talking!” Hope called out, it was as she said that the scent of flowers hit her nose. She was close but she still hadn't seen  the flowers. Her flashlight on her phone swept the floor of the forest until she suddenly heard a  crack.  Hope’s heart stopped again for the second time that night as she slowly looked around. 

Crack!

Hope picked up her speed and kept looking, the girl was crying again, she could hear her whimpers but that suspicious cracking noise followed behind her. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”  Her grip tightened on the knife, it was a pocket knife but she could still shank a bitch if she had too.  

Crack!

Crack!

It was then Hope started to hear howling, behind her or around her. She didn’t know anymore, she just kept moving forward then attempting to serpentine run. Hope had to find that little girl before those wolves did.  It was so dark now and the fog so thick, but she kept following the sound of the whimpers and the scent of the flowers but that howling was getting louder too. “I'm coming! I’m coming, hold on!”  She tried to scream but her voice felt so small and weak. She tried to remember to mark the trees still but the wolves kind of  distracted her.  Hope’s flashlight finally bathed in flowers, wild flowers it seemed. She might have been able to hear the stream that was close by too but her heart pounding in her ears seemed to be distracting her. 

Hope kept moving her flashlight this way and that, the flowers around her feet growing taller and taller till the plants were up to her knees. She felt something stick her in the leg, she winced but kept moving. The scen of the flowers was getting more and more intense as she walked deeper and deeper in.  The crying was getting softer and softer, was she losing this kid?  The flashlight again shone on a structure coming from the ground. The well. It looked like it was crumbling, falling apart. “I-I’m at the well! Where are you?” Silence. Hope was shaking, her ears ringing. She hated how the silence was so loud! Not even the cracking of nature was about nor the howl of the wolves. How could it be? The scent of those flowers was overwhelming, she felt nauseous. Hope gulped trying to breathe but she couldn’t.  Hope turned around, trying to see anything, the light of her flashlight shaking until it landed on the well in front of her . She peered down into it, darkness. Not even her flashlight could illuminate it. The girl had said she wasn’t in the well but she had to look anyway but she should be close. Hope was about to move but called out one last time, “Hey can you hear me ! I'm at the well, I’m gettin closer but you need to speak up, where are you?”

“Right behind you.” 

Hope spun around at the sing-song voice out of instinct,her blood froze and the ringing in her ears got louder, louder. A deep wave of nausea washed over her more about the need to vomit came fast at the sight that met her eyes. Black soulless eyes dripping a strange ooze,a gaping mouth and that’s all she saw before she felt her body being pushed backwards. She felt her body falling, falling down into the well. She opened her mouth to scream but did she scream? She didn't know. She couldn't hear it, just the sound of the wind rushing by her ears then a sharp slap. She felt it. She heard it accompanied by an explosion of pain firing through her whole body. She doesn't see the silhouette staring down at her body, nor does she hear the howling gathering around the well. All she feels is cold, pain and her mind screaming far too many things for her to process until finally she sighed and her world went black. 

—------

Hope felt pain, that’s the only thing she remembered in the darkness is pain. Her body torso felt exposed, cold yet inflamed while her lower half felt constricted, she couldn’t move her legs, it felt like something was wrapped tightly around them like a cold silk blanket and they felt heavy. Her face hurt too, especially her jaw right at the part going to her ears. The back of her head was throbbing and any attempt to move made her want to throw up. Her stomach felt empty but burning. Hope tried to open her eyes but they felt so heavy and hurt.  “Ah my dear you're coming too, what a good girl.” A voice whispered in her ear, soft yet cold like snow.  

    “Who's there?”  Hope tried to ask but it seemed her lips didn’t move, chapped and dried they hurt.  Who was there? Where was there, where was she? What had happened? She couldn’t remember. She felt so tired and so sick. She wanted a blanket, she felt so cold now.

    “You are recovering so well, soon you will be moving and on your feet again. For now rest my child, you will soon meet the others.” Hope felt someone brush her hair back from her head, damn if only she could open her eyes but they felt so heavy.

“I’m scared! I want to wake up! Where am I? Please-please someone help me!” Her brain screamed but it was only answered again by the strange cool voice.

 “Rest my dear, sweet dreams.”   A shiver raged through the young woman’s spine like an electrical current before suddenly she was hit with another wave of nausea and sleep. She once more passed out into darkness, the last thing she heard was the song of a woman humming and the clank of metals scraping one another before her world went silent again.

“It’s such a shame you couldn’t be a vessel for my Eva but perhaps you will be of other use to me, my little  Hope.”

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

So the answer to your question is Hope deicing to take a trip to Romania to get away from her family life. She thought she could handle walking in a haunted woods alone of all things ( actually used the Hoia Baciu Forest for reference ;3 ) but it didn't plan out so well. Mother Miranda was the first one she encountered and some lycans. It was more of Mother Miranda luring someone into her world and that someone happened to be Hope. >< I honestly had thought of something different for the start of the story awhile back but it just didn't sit right with me so I changed it. However the second half of this story is the original first chapter opening but just added the first half to it now. : )

I will start writing the second half of this ask but wanted to post and share this first. It was really fun to write and it helped me out a lot with writing again so thank you so much @vodkafolie! <3

[castiels-majestic-wings]

Sixth Sense - Chapter 3

Paring: Loki x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2,255

Warnings: Accidental violence/injury. Mental health (Loki).

Posted: 03/01/2021

Odin wasn’t particularly fond of you staying in Asgard. But you had insisted to keep a close eye on Loki. You had told him it was to make sure the darkness didn’t get stronger. But there was something else, after reading him so deeply, so intimately. Something changed. You no longer feared him, but you felt as if you wanted to save him. You needed to save him. From his thoughts, from the entity that harmed him before his forced attack on Earth. You knew he was tortured before his attack, you saw the footage, keeping tabs on what was happening during the battle. But now, you just felt worse. He thought he was the very monster his father despised. He had been lied to his whole life, even by his mother- whom he trusted the most.

Getting lost in your thoughts you didn’t hear Thor entering the room. He was worried for you, he had seen you read auras before but you had never acted like this afterwards. He hoped he hadn’t caused you harm letting you come here. He stared at your figure for a moment. You were facing away from him but your facial features seemed stressed and concerned. Your eyes were narrowed, facing the ground. Your right hand rested on your face while your left draped over your knees. You were unmoving. Completely still until you felt something and your head jerked up and your eyes met Thors. Your eyes narrowed, you had never sensed someone’s presence before. Was your being here helping you tap into your powers. The endless possibilities of being in a magic realm, would that make you more powerful, dangerous?

“Thor- I didn’t hear you come in.”

“You seemed deep in thought” You couldn’t tell him about Loki if he knew his feelings- from what you understood- it would break him.

“Yes, I think my pow- my abilities, I think they’re evolving” It wasn’t exactly a lie. But not the whole truth of what was on your mind.

“Evolving? How so?”

“Before I could only read auras. But now, I can sense them. Not straight away obviously. But what if- what if being here, is making me more powerful? Compared to earth, this realm is one of magic.” You stated, wanting his opinion on the matter.

“It’s possible. So you could sense my presence without knowing I was there?”

“Yes, and-”

“And?”

“And- and I feel a connection- to Loki I mean. I had never read that deep into someone. I felt like his therapist, but it’s more than that. A man like that, he wouldn’t willingly let me read his emotions. But I still felt them. I cant tell emotions from peoples auras, Thor. But with Loki. I did. Is it my being here? “

“We need to tell my father about this” Thor turned to leave but you grabbed his arm holding him back from walking further.

“Don’t. Don’t tell him yet. He doesn’t trust me, not yet. Wait until I gain his trust, then you can tell him” Thor turned to face you again, as your arms fell to your side.

“What if being here causes you harm, Y/N?”

“And what if it doesn’t? If Odin finds out- He will banish me from Asgard for eternity. Thor, trust me on this. There are things you don’t know, about Loki, about your father. Thor, please. Give me a month.”

“One month. No more, no less.”

“Yes! Thank you, Thor” You pulled him into a hug in which he accepted. After pulling away you knew you had to ask Loki about it. You began walking and Thor automatically followed- being you protector here. You memorised the way to the prisons, once Thor had realised your destination he held a hand out in front of you stopping you.

“Are you sure this is wise?” He looked down at your smaller form, concern filling his eyes.

“His speciality is magic, who else could I ask about this?” He frowned, knowing he was the only one that you could ask for answers. A sigh escaped his lips, lowering his hand, letting you continue. Once in the prison you had asked the guards to leave, they denied until Thor had ordered them to. Loki looked up confused with your visit. Sitting up from his laying position on the bed he was given.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” His voice was dull. He knew there was no point in being strong around you, you could read him as easily as the books he reads.

“I have a question, related to magic.” His eyebrows perked in curiosity.

“Magic? Well, you’ve come to the right place.”

“My abilities are evolving. I assume it’s my being here. I can now, not only read auras but sense them. And I think they’re still growing.”

“Well, this is the realm of magic, my dear. There are endless possibilities for the reasoning of your growth. But I would say your assumption is correct.”

“Would I be in any danger being here? Will my body be able to handle the change in my abilities.”

“That all depends on you. If you’re strong enough to sustain it, you will be fine. But if not, there is a certain danger to it.”

“Thor let me into the cell. I need to test something”

“Are you sure? He just said it’s dangerous”

“Only if I can’t handle it. I’ll stop before any permanent damage is done. Don’t worry so much. I’m stronger than I look.” Thor was hesitant but complied. Loki didn’t make a move to hurt you even with Thor on the outside. You sat in from of Loki with a chair, much like last time.

“Look, I’ve never done this before so if it hurts I’m sorry.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Just relax” You placed your fingers on his temples gently, closing your eyes. You tried to concentrate on him, his pain. You wanted to understand him more. Then you saw the tesseract and a purple titan with a deceiving smile. A tear rolled down your cheek as you searched for the cause of his pain. You saw auras within his memories. Those of his adopted family in happy memories turned sour. He believed his life was a lie. He didn’t want to love anymore, in fear he would get hurt again. He-.

You were brought back to reality, your hands were no longer on Loki’s temple but within his hands. You had caused him pain. Making him relive those memories. Thor had entered the room at this point. You still didn’t notice the tear on your cheek until Loki wiped it away.

“How- how did I see that?”

“That I’m not entirely sure of. It seems you hold abilities even more than you already possess”

“But I read auras, not emotions and memories.”

“I’m afraid you might be wrong there.”

“You are not doing that again” Thor demanded, voice deep.

“Why not? This would be the best way to heal your brother”

“Y/N you screamed as you cried. I do not think its best for you to continue. I shall call Stark and-”

“No! I- I need to continue”

“Y/N it will harm you”

“No, you don’t understand. I need to continue Thor. Not only am I helping Loki, but I’m expanding my knowledge of my powers. Who knows what other abilities I possess.” Excitement and urgency filled your tone, making Thor rethink his decisions. Was it wise to keep you here, letting you continue? Without his father’s knowledge? What was he thinking? He trusted you. He had to let you do this. You know the dangers, yet still want to continue, who was he to deny that.

“I shall not stop you if this is the path you choose. You cannot stop. You must continue forward until the very end” He lectured you as if you were entering battle.

“I know. But I trust my gut, Thor. This is something I have to do. There are no choices in this, no decisions that will change my mind. Its something I know that must be done” Thor nodded saying nothing more. You turned your attention back to Loki. He stayed silent, knowing exactly what you saw.

“Thor, leave us. Can you mute the cell? The barrier would have that ability I assume?” Thor huffed but nodded, answering your question as he left. He gave a thumbs up showing that he could no longer hear you, but you had to check. You knew what he was like. You turned and yelled.

“Thor is a giant asshole with an ego bigger than Tony!” Thor didn’t budge, but Loki stifled a laugh. You turned towards him and let out a giggle yourself.

“I had to check. He’s not very fond of us being alone together. Even if he can see us, he thinks you’ll manipulate me if he cant hear us.”

“And what makes you think I won’t.” He tried to shield himself again, going back to his trickster persona.

“I’ve seen your pain, your memories, Loki. You don’t have to hide anymore. Not with me. You hold no hatred for attacking my planet. I know you had no choice. That thing. The purple titan. He forced you to do it. I know you're not the monster they think you are.” You held his hand in a comforting way. Letting him know that he could trust you. His eyes searched yours for deceit. Anything that would show him that you would betray him like the rest of them. But he found nothing. He began to break.

“I didn’t want to do it. I thought I killed Thor. And I hated it. But I had to prove to him- to Thanos-”

“His name is Thanos?” His eyes shut briefly as he sighed.

“Yes. I had to prove my loyalty. He tortured me after he saved me. He needed me. The god presumed dead by his brother. No one would see me coming.” You nodded your head, listening to every word diligently. He poured his heart out, for the first time in his life. He was vulnerable. He told a Midgardian everything that was eating at his conscious. And during that whole ordeal, you didn’t say a word. You let him vent. It seemed as though you were a therapist of some kind to him. Once he stopped, he noticed your tears. You felt empathy, for him. No one had cared enough to ever listen to his words. But now, here you were, sat in front of him, crying. He didn’t know what to feel.

Thor was stood outside Loki’s cell the whole time. Not being able to hear a word. He saw that Loki was the only one speaking. He feared that Loki was trying to manipulate you, he went to interrupt before he saw your hand signalling him to calm down. You sensed his tension. You had to let him know you were okay. Loki wouldn’t open up if Thor interrupted. But when Loki stopped speaking and Thor saw your lips move, with tears in your eyes. He couldn’t take it anymore. He burst into the cell. You stood in defence at the sudden sound.

“What did you say to her Loki?!” Thor had misread the situation. You had to calm him down. You walked towards him, putting your hands up to try and calm him.

“Thor, I’m fine. He didn’t do anything” Thor barged passed you and went to punch Loki but you jumped in front of him taking the hit. You grunted as the force threw you to the wall. Thor pulled back, seeing your figure leaning against the wall. He resented himself for striking you, even if it was by accident. You looked up, holding your waist. The force you hit the wall at caused some more physical damage than the broken and bloody nose. Your other hand made it up to your nose to examine the damage. With the force of a god, you were lucky you were still conscious. Loki had come to your aid, helping you up while Thor was frozen, unable to believe his actions.

“Are you alright?” Loki’s voice showed concern. You kept hold of Loki’s shoulders to keep your balance. The thumping in your head didn’t stop you from yelling.

“You idiot! Thor, when will you learn that your actions have consequences! Stop and listen before attacking someone. It will get you out of so many unnecessary situations!” You removed your hand from your waist, placing it on your head. The shouting had made it worse.

“Damn it, Thor. I told you to trust me.”

“You were crying what was I suppose-”

“I was crying because he told me everything! I got so sad thinking ‘How could he live like that? How did he last so long?’ I cried because I have empathy, Thor.”

“I’m so sorry Y/N I-”

“Save it. I’m not mad. Just hurt.” You groaned in pain as you shifted your weight.

“Let me take you to a healer” Thor’s hands reached out to help you.

“Fine.” You removed your arm from Loki’s shoulders as Thor placed a hand under your knees, and the other on the small of your back before he lifted you. You looked at Loki and saw how hurt he was of your pain. He wanted to take you himself and check on you whenever he could. But as a prisoner, he wasn’t granted that freedom.

Taglist: @lovermrjokerr @lord-byron @lucywrites02 @violetica

[team-gabriel]

At some point, after ages of bottling things up and trying to numb the pain by ignoring it, Glass snaps. This happens: Glass sits quietly during a staff meeting, trying to keep it all in still, but he cant stop himself from shaking and shedding a few tears. Bright notices and out-loud asks if Glass is okay, and that's when Simon cant hold it in anymore. He breaks down, practically screaming as he sobs that no, hes not okay, he hasnt been okay in so long and that he cant take it anymore- (1/2)

Simon can hardly sleep anymore. If he manages three hours, it’s a really good night.

He’s having less and less really good nights...

Those stupid melatonin gummies hardly do a thing for him and Benadryl does little more than leave him feeling groggy the next morning...

He sleeps. The nightmares wake him up. The cycle continues until he ends up watching dumb wildlife documentaries at 4am in an attempt to pull his focus onto anything else.

But still, exhausted or not, he goes to work every morning as usual. He drinks enough coffee to probably put a fully grown grizzly bear dangerously close to a caffeine overdose — he doesn’t even really like the taste of the stuff, he just needs it to function at this point.

He’s getting better at putting up his walls, at smiling like nothing’s wrong, at pushing his own troubling thoughts aside... he can almost brush off the sickening feeling in his stomach every time he notices someone staring at the fading scars on his lips.

He’s getting better. He says he’s getting better.

Well, technically, he never said there was anything wrong to begin with...

...But it’s wearing at him, little by little. Like rainwater slowly cutting through stone, like snowflakes gathering on a roof until it reaches the point of caving — it’s gradual, it’s discrete... but its damage over time is great.

Glass has been bottling everything up, and now he’s only a few drops from spilling over...

He can barely focus on the staff meeting. Gears is talking about something, but Simon’s own thoughts are too loud.

They pull at him, like a dark rope that keeps wrapping tighter and tighter, until he finds it hard to even breathe.

Glass turns his focus back down to the blank notepad he was supposed to be taking notes on, and he taps his pen quietly against the surface. He’s been so on edge lately — anxious, almost — it has to be all of the caffeine. He says it’s only from the caffeine...

He forces himself to stop tapping the pen when he notices Bright’s concerned glances. Simon clenches his jaw tightly as he returns to trying to take notes...

He manages a few scribbled words before he can barely read them behind the blur of unshed tears that sting his eyes.

Simon takes a deep breath, trying to hold it as long as the horrible tightness in his chest would allow.

He pulls his glasses from his face, massaging at the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, pretending he was simply trying to work through a headache.

It clearly wasn’t as solid of an act as he had hoped...

“Simon?”

“...fine.”

“...Are you sure you’re alr—?”

“For the last time — I said I’m fine!” Glass snaps harshly, momentarily forgetting of the fact that he was in he middle of a meeting and drawing an uncomfortable amount of focus to himself and his outburst.

Simon straightens awkwardly, glancing around at his coworkers. “I’m... sorry,” he says, forcing his expression into a tight frown. “Bad headache. I’ll... I’ll just see myself out.”

He doesn’t wait for any response before he gathers his (mostly-blank) notes and hurries out.

...Once again, pretending not to notice the way Kondraki motioned with his head for Bright to follow.

He just hopes to get back to his office as quickly as he can, ready to act like this didn’t happen, just like everything else...

Bright meets him up at his office, knocking softly at the doorframe as Simon pretends he didn’t notice him there.

“Glass? Can we talk?”

“Huh? Right, uh... sorry for yelling earlier, I didn’t mean it... Headache.”

“Look, Glass, I’m getting really worried.”

“What? Worried? What’s��? Why are you worried?” Simon asks quickly. “Did— do you want to talk to me about it?”

“You. You’re worrying me,” Jack replies. “And yes, I do think we need to talk about it.”

“Me? I’m– Jack, I’m fine!” Glass assures. “I’m fine. Completely fine. Everything is fine!”

“Bullshit, Simon. I may not be a psychiatrist, but anybody with eyes can see that you are clearly not fine...”

“Jack, I mean it, I’m not–“

Bright pulls the chair from the other side of the desk, sitting so that he is directly in front of Simon.

“Oh, I know you’re not,” he says. “So we’re just going to talk about this– and by we, I mean you.”

“Jack, I’m— there’s nothing to talk about. I told you — it’s just a a headache.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, Simon.”

Glass opens his mouth, clearly about to argue back with another poorly veiled lie, but he shuts it wordlessly, frowning as he clenches his jaw.

Until finally, he speaks the first shred of truth about the situation.

“...I’d much rather we talked about something else.”

“Well that’s too damn bad,” Jack says. “Because this is what we’re talking about.”

More silence.

“If it’s really not bothering you, it shouldn’t be difficult, right?”

Still more silence. Glass is anxiously drumming his pen against his desk again.

“Simon, just admit that this is still bothering you and we can–“

“—Jack, did you know that some species of parrots can live for 70 years?” Glass interjects suddenly. “I didn’t know that. Did you know that?”

“Glass, we aren’t changing the subject.”

“...And there was this one bird that knew almost two-thousand different words! Two-thousand, Jack! I don’t even think I know two-thousand different words–!”

“Simon–“

“I’ve been watching a lot of Animal Planet at night–“

“Oh, believe me, I can tell,” Jack replies. “And you’re doing a real piss-poor job at trying to derail the subject...”

“And ducks! Jack, did you know that ducks– they don’t– they–“

Jack can practically see the will breaking in his eyes at this point.

“Simon...”

Glass takes in a shaky breath.

“Jack, did you know that sometimes– sometimes I just want to scream, but I’m afraid that if I do then I’ll just never stop.”

Glass is wringing his hands, avoiding Jack’s eyes. Bright lets him continue speaking without interruption.

“...Did you know that sometimes it feels like the whole world is trying to come crashing down on me all at once – and I know it’s not, I know it’s in my head – Simon, you’re being ridiculous, you’re a psychiatrist for Christ’s sake, just- just look at your notes or something!” Glass rambled. “And- and you’re right! I’m a psychiatrist, so why am I– I shouldn’t be– what an absolute hypocrite!”

“Simon, you aren’t a hypocrite.”

“Oh, but I am!” Simon replies. “I am, Jack! I sit here all day and I tell people to open up and quit bottling everything inside – but I can’t even follow my own bloody advice?! No, I just poke and pry at everybody’s traumas and I can’t even talk about one goddamn little insignificant raid?!”

“It’s not insignificant, Glass.”

“Compared to all the shit that everyone else has gone through?! Believe me, I know — I’ve heard it all!” Simon exclaims. “Jack, I can guarantee that you’ve experienced things a million times worse than—!”

“But it isn’t about me! We’re talking about you—!”

“That doesn’t matter!”

“You were tortured, Simon!” Bright exclaims. “You were hurt — you still are hurt — don’t try to tell me that that doesn’t matter!”

“I was only tortured because I let myself get captured! Practically deserved it at that point! Think about it! If it were you or Clef, or Kondraki — you’d’ve escaped ages before anyone could even—!”

“Simon, what?!”

“I practically just let it happen, Jack! I couldn’t fight, I couldn’t escape — I couldn’t even tough it up enough to pull out the goddamn stitches on my own! It was a wasted rescue mission, Jack — nobody should’ve had to put themselves in danger for someone so worthless to the Foundation!”

“Simon... what...?”

Glass could only shake his head, refusing to meet Jack’s eyes.

“You aren’t worthless, Si.”

“Then why do I always feel like I am?!”

Glass has already opened up more in the past four minutes than he had in four weeks, and he’s had enough. He sits in his chair, burying his face in his hands. Jack steps closer, standing directly in front of him, pulling the therapist into a hug.

“Simon, it’s okay...” he whispers. “It’s okay...”

Glass, after several long, shaky sobs, hugs him back — Bright resting his chin on the top of Simon’s head, pulling his fingers softly through the back of Simon’s hair.

“You aren’t worthless, Si. You aren’t pathetic. You aren’t weak.”

And, in Jack’s arms, Simon finally let himself break down. Every buried feeling spilling to the surface — that crushing weight in his chest finally beginning to lessen.

He knew it was a discrete, gradual thing — like recovering from a broken bone, like flowers regrowing after a wildfire...

But, in Jack’s arms, Simon finally let himself begin to heal.

[queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm]

The Most Vibriant Color In the Rainbow (Jasonette)

Red. It was in your veins, it’s the color of fire and the setting sun. Red was the color of France’s superhero. A heroine that was wilting like a rose. She was hanging on by a thread and the Fates seemed so very tempted to snip it. There, in the shadow of the heroine’s mantel, lies a girl who is just fighting to not have her voice stolen from her again.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was that same hero, but she was so much more than that. She was an artist, a daughter, a designer, a partner, and a friend. Marinette knew exactly how to fix any problem that came her way no matter how bad of odds there were. She came, she saw, and she conquered every challenge that dared come between her and her goals. All Marinette wanted to do was love. So the question is, what happened to the Marinette everyone knew?

Away with the firecracker that was Marinette, anew with a pale imitation of the beautiful girl. She moves mechanically, every step she takes she’s made a thousand times over. All of this because of the Antichrist herself, Lila Rossi, made good on her promise to herd the sheep into her flock. The sound of crocodile tears could be heard ringing through the classroom, “W-why are you s-so mean? I-I just w-wanted a dress f-for the dance!”

Marinette stared at the Italian woman with a glare that could kill, “And I told you, I cant. I have my responsibilities and you have your ‘responsibilities’ we’re both busy people. Your universe may revolve around Lila, but mine revolves around me. It’s sad that you think you can guilt trip me into doing something I don’t want to do when you and I aren’t friends. Call me mean all you want, but I won’t care. You and everyone else in this class mean absolutely nothing to me. I do what I have to do to survive and you are a shepherd to week sheep. It’s unfortunate for you that you would ever think I would fall in line for you.”

A hush fell over the room. No one expected Marinette to clap-back against Lila, but more so that she would speak with no emotion backing her. Lila, stunned silent, forgot to keep crying. Ladybug doesn’t let anyone treat her like a stepping stone, so why should Marinette? Marinette is Ladybug inside and outside of the mask. She just puts the mask’s responsibilities more important than Marinette’s happiness. An obnoxious girl with glasses broke the silence, “W-What d-did you say?”

“You heard me, Alya, we are not friends. You chose the shiny new toy over truth. I want nothing to do with unreliable sources,” The tone she used was deadly, “something you do a lot. It’s no wonder why Ladybug stopped endorsing your blog. It’s such a shame that you chose someone who Ladybug has publicly claimed has no connection to her over the one who got you your interviews. Or did you forget, that I’m the one who actually knows Ladybug and is friends with?”

Everything stopped. No one breathed, blinked, or moved. You don’t know fear until the wrath of the Cheng family befalls you. Though they might not have the resources, or so you think, (A/N: I headcannon that the Dupain Chengs are rich bc they are the best bakers in Paris, plus why would Gabriel or Aubrey let their children go into public school.) The Cheng family held themselves with a an air of respect without even trying. Marinette maybe wilting due to the weight of the world, but she would not crumble to the will of uneducated teenagers.

Red. That is the color of vengeance, anger, and blood. Red is the color of Gotham’s vigilante. A zombie of a man trying to rebuild what was once his life. Across an ocean there is a boy that just had his world turn upside down. He died an incredibly gruesome death and had he thought no one mourned his loss.

Jason Todd was Red Hood, the loose cannon of Gotham. Everyone thought the pit had taken him to the place of no return. That his mind was the problem. Yes, the pit madness made his angry, but it didn’t make him lose his mind entirely. Behind his anger, Jason was just a boy taken too soon and then mutilated for other people’s benefit. He craved physical affection. He pleaded for trust. He needs his father to tell him he loves him.

Red Hood stayed out during patrol to clear his head. He looked down on the city while perched on a high rise. It usually calmed the voices in his head, tonight they seemed restless. Jason wished for silence, he felt oppressed by the dreariness of the city. Something in his heart told him that this isn’t where he was meant to be. The voices told him to jump off the high rise and to the voices Jason responded with a kind, “Thanks Karen, but fuck right off.”

No stars could be seen due to the pollution of Gotham, but the moonlight shone on Red Hood. He stared at the moon, deep in thought, “Where would I even go?” He asked himself, “Who would want me?”

Not even the voices wanted to hear him talk about him, “Paris,” they whispered.

“Why Paris?” Paris? What’s so specials about Paris?

“Trust us,” the voices responded, “there’s something you won’t want to miss.”

Jason filed that under the folder titled ‘Another question for the therapist that I don’t have.’ He couldn’t deny the pull he felt towards Paris no matter how hard he tried. There was no reason to go though, but there was no reason to stay either. They were all fine without him before why would this time be different?

It was then Jason was reminded the coms were still on and that Tim was an insomniac, “Paris? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry about it Timmy. I’m just thinking about taking a vacation. Don’t tell B yet, I’m not sure I should even go,” He knew it wasn’t Tim’s fault, but he couldn’t help but feel that familiar tingle of resentment towards his brother. He shook the feeling away, “I just need a breath, Gotham seems to have me dying all over again.”

Tim reassured Jason that his secret was to be kept between the two of them. The feeling was still gnawing at his being on the way back to his apartment. Red Hood, the light hearted jokester, the one who needed to be restrained, a smiling pillar to the magnifying glass that was Bruce and Dick, was lonely. The question was: is he lonely enough to leave? The answer is yes. Jason is tried of being the second thought, he’s tired of having to report in, and he’s tired of the way the voices take up space in his mind when there’s no company to talk to.

Paris, be prepared. Red is coming to your city and it’s going to become a color of change. Red will paint the streets. Red is going to cause Hawkmoth to rethink if his antics are really worth the price tag that follows.

A/N: Marinette is 19 and Jason is only 20. This could be a series of this is something you all would want to read. I’m a sucker for Jasonette and I love the Maribat genre in general. Please let me know if you want to be tagged also! Thank you all for reading and supporting me!

Tags: @abrx2002 @amayakans @mystery-5-5 @normal-piece-of-shit @st0rmy-w1th1n @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @g-arya @smolplantmum @rayray384 @rosa97 @drarryismylife101 @kris-pines04 @black-streak @storyteller-d @weird-pale-blonde-person

[xmalereader]

Modern! Ben Solo X Sith! Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

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Requested: Hi! So I'm a huge fan of your modern!reader writings, and I was wondering if you would be interested in doing that, but the positions are reversed? Where Ben more or less is having a hard time just naturally fitting in on Earth and Reader somehow contacts him through the force and eventually convinces Ben to come with him?? Idk this has been kn my mind for a while.

Warnings: Slight angst, Modern Ben solo, reversed roles, dark lord reader, innocent Ben, slight fluff, Bi Ben.

@lea-the-foxe

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“Supreme leader, we have arrived. Would you like us to prepare your ship?”

“Yes, please make sure that no one follows me and don’t send anyone unless I say.”

Hux gives his supreme leader a small bow. “Yes supreme leader.” He says as he exits the large room as y/n glanced outside, just a few miles away was Earth. A planet that took him months to find, it was a very well secured and hidden planet that y/n had to make sure that they scanned the whole galaxy to Just find this one planet.

He hasn’t heard about this, ‘earth’ but he does know that the population of humans don’t know anything about them so He order his people to make sure that they stayed hidden below radar, not wanting to cause any alarm on earth. “Make sure that everything is in control, I’m counting on you Hux.” He says through the force bond that he has created with Hux before leaving his own thrown and heading towards his chambers, getting himself ready before landing.

He’s made some research on earth, making sure the blend in well with the proper dressing and material he would be able to blend in with the crowds. He’s been sensing a force on earth and it has been calling out to him and he’s been trying to search for months but came up with nothing until now, he figured out about earth a while ago and has ordered his people to search everywhere in the galaxy. He’s been feeling this pull for awhile and now that he’s here he can finally search for the person responsible for this urgent tug.

As y/n finishes dressing up he gives himself one last look in the mirror, adjusting the black jacket and fixing up his hair, trying to make it look a little less nice and more modern looking. “Supreme leader.” He jolts in fright as he glares over at Hux who has re-entered his chambers. “Your ship is ready.”

“I’ve told you to knock several times.” He hisses out and ignores Hux. He grabs hsi saber and tucks it underneath his jacket before leaving his room, brushing past hux as he makes his way towards the shipping area. “While I am gone, I need you to make sure that no one is to disturb me, if we suddenly get pulled into danger then you send a holo.” He instructs as he climbs inside his ship and checks the controllers.

“I’ll make sure that nothing happens while you are gone, but for now focus on your own mission.” Said hux as y/n grins at him and closes the cockpit. He makes sure that he is ready to launch, strapping hismelf in as he sighs deeply and looks up ahead. “Lets do this.” He whispers to hismelf.

—

“Ben, you haven’t eaten anything since you’ve returned from your uncles.” Said Leia as she watches her son. Ben was sitting on the dining table as he stares out the window, he was looking at the sky with curiosity. “I’ve already eaten, uncle gave me some of his weird cooking.” He says as he turns his attention back to her.

Ben has been spending time with his uncle constiantly since his parents were still arguing with each other, reaching the point of Ben not being able to stand their bickering. His uncle was nice enough to Lend him a room, allowing him to stay as long as he wanted, but he knows that he would have to return back home and make sure that his parents haven’t killed each other.

“You’re Uncle isn’t feeding you properly.” She mutters out as Ben chuckles.

“Old man is lonely, he cant cook well but he’s learning.” He stands up from his seat, taking one last look outside before helping his mother clear the table. “How’s Rey by the way?” Ben freezes up at the mention of her name, walking towards the kitchen as he sets his plate inside the sink. “She uh—“

“She’s a very sweet girl.”

“Yeah about that,” he began to clean his dishes as he spoke. “We broke up a long time ago, I don’t think I’m ready for a serious relationship, you know? Just need time on my own and finding a new place for myself.” He shrugs a little as he turns off the sink water and cleans his hands with a dry rag.

He hears his mother shuffle close to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “That wasn’t the reason.” She whispers as Ben bites his lip. “You still hear them.”

Ben flinches away from her touch. “I haven’t been hearing it lately, it’s not bad and besides its going away so I’m fine.” His mother was talking about the voice that had been talking to him for awhile now, it’s been years, to be exact three. It started when he was at work, working on one of his big projects when he suddenly heard a soft whisper. He thought that it was one of his co-workers talking to him but when he turned around he saw no one. He thought it was his imagination until it happened again, but this time he heard it loud and clear, he thought he was going crazy at first.

But he had tried to ignore, blocking it out as he continues on with his life. But it only got worse as months went by so he had no choice but ot tell someone and that someone was his mother. He loved her so much that he wouldn’t do anything to upset her, so the day he told her—he expected her to freak out and send him to a therapist but instead she stood by his side and told him that it would all be over and to not listen, so he did that.

He’s been keeping it undercontrol, but he can’t help but feel a sudden tug in his chest. A feeling telling him that he didn’t belong here. He’s been struggling already with his own problem that he almost missed the times that his parents argued with each other and having to deal with a relationship that didn’t really feel real anymore. And his Job was only becoming stressful, the new interns were getting on his nerves, to the point where he would want to smash their face through a computer screen but he had to remain in control.

So he changed some things, he began to visit his parents separately and try to help fix their relationship while he visited his uncle Luke who he had tried to convince to help him out with his mother but his uncle refused to get involved, leaving him on his own. His break up with Rey didn’t end well, the two were out together when she suddenly brought up their future a topic that he hated talking about. He was polite to ask her to stop but she didn’t causing him to snap at her and dumping her on the spot.

He was already struggling to much, he just wanted a new start and far away from all of his problems.

“Ben you should really see a therapist about this or a doctor.”

“I said I was fine!” He slaps his mothers hand away from him as he grabs his coat and makes his way towards the door, leaving the house in a hurry, not wanting to get anymore upset with her.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

“Get out of my head.” He growls out in anger, walking a little faster as he heads towards an empty park.

“I can feel your anger, you’ve been angry for years now.”

“Shut up!” He grips his head, he can’t give in.

“It’s okay to be angry and upset, so let it all out no one is here to judge you.”

“What do you want with me?! You’ve been pestering me for years now! So tell me, what do you want!?” He circles around, checking his surroundings as he pants heavily. He can’t allow this voice in his head to mock him, “I just want you.” Gasping he turns around to see a strange man standing a few feet away from him. “Hello Ben, I’ve been waiting for you.” That voice, he recognizes that voice from his head.

“Who are you and how were you talking to me just now, in my head?” He asks as the other gives him a grin. “You don’t know do you?”

“Know what?!” He shouted back, expecting the other to get frightened from his anger but he doesn’t flinch nor does he move. “You see Ben, me and you are alike. You just don’t know it.”

“What—?”

The other approaches him slowly, causing Ben to stumble back. “Have you ever done something that was considered impossible?” He asks. “Have you ever felt another’s emotion or hav been so angry that you may or may not have moved an object, or maybe a voice in your head telling you what to do?” He cocks his head and smiles at Ben.

It wasn’t a warm smile but a wicked one.

“How do you know all of this?” Ben glares at the other as he sighs deeply. “Because I’ve been watching you, the force led me to you and it want me to take you in, to train you to make you stronger, wouldn’t it be nice to just start over? To learn something new?”

The offer sounded tempting to him but he couldn’t, his parents were here and hsi whole family, he can’t jus leave like this. “Who’re you?”

“I’m y/n, but where I’m from I prefer others to call me Supreme Leader, but if you agree to follow me then ill allow you to call me whatever you like.” He adjusts his hoodie and reaches under his hood to take out a cylinder like rod, it was black with a sigil on it.

He could feel a sudden tug on the object, like it was calling out for him. “You feel it don’t you?” Ben snaps his eyes to y/n as he holds out the object towards him. “go on, take it. I know you want too.” He whispers and takes a few steps forward, causing ben to realize that he was slightly taller than the other. By instinct he takes a step back, “Go on.” He hears y/n say again. “take it.”

Ben glances back down at the object, slowly reaching out to take it into his own hand. At the sudden touch he feels a strong powerful feeling, causing him to gasp and drop the object. But before it could hit the ground it froze in mid air, his eyes widening as the object slowly floats up and into the hands of the other. Y/n grips onto the saber and eyes Ben. “Shame you didn’t get to use it.” He says with a small pout, almost making it look like he was making fun of him.

Ben could only glare at him. “Don’t tease me.”

“Oh but I like teasing, its the only thing I’m really good at it.” Y/n admits as he clips the saber back on his belt and turns back to face the other. “I know you felt a strong force when you held it, it was calling out ot you. Telling you that you belonged somewhere else and not here.”

Ben breaths out nervously, he wasnt wrong. He’s been feeling unimportant around others that maybe disappearing wouldn’t matter to anyone.

“Join me, I know you want too.” Y/n extends his hand out, offering it towards ben.

Ben gives his hand a glance before looking back up to face the other. “I can train you, make you a better person. You can become someone a lot better—“ Ben inches closer as y/n slowly smiles. “I can take you away form everything.” He whispered out as Ben takes his hand, wrapping his fingers around his hand.

Y/n’s lips twitch up into a smirk as he tugs Ben forward, placing his other free hand against his forehead, showing him various visions before he falls asleep. Y/n uses the force to keep him from falling, reaching into his pocket he takes out a com, a holo of hux appearing as y/n speaks. “General, prepare an extra room, Will be having some company.”

[swiss-cheeze]

(French Road, East) Apartment 23 || Spencer Reid

Gender: they/them, none.

Warnings: drug use, drug relapse, talk of drugs/‘shooting up’, talk of alcohol/being drunk, snooping?, mentions of sex but nothing written, agression

Description: weeks pass from the teams abduction, but one member can’t seem to keep his nightmares at bay.

A/N: PART 2 TO FRENCH ROAD, EAST. Read that first to get a better understand but you don’t necessarily have to?

Part 1: https://snitchthewitch.tumblr.com/post/625420152793694208/french-road-east-spencer-reid

———

“I need you to close your eyes Spencer, good, just like that. Can you tell me what happened before you and the team were kidnapped? Where were you?”

“I was with Morgan and Penelope, we went for some drinks to loosen ourselves up after the last case. It's dark, and cold, I'm drunk. Maybe...maybe tipsy?”

“It's okay Spence, you were drunk?”

“I couldn't walk well without help, Penelope was on one side, Morgan is on the other, he’s on his phone. I see your name, and he's texting you, i don't know what it is but its not words,”

“Okay, what's around you? People? Streets?”

“Its dark, so not many people are around, but there's this chilly feeling behind us as we drop Penelope off”

“So Penelope isn't with you two anymore?”

“No, not now, she's gone. Morgan and I are stumbling on the road for a little while but Morgan looks back and he's sobered up, he's walking and he's got his phone out. He's called you, something about someone under six foot,” Spencers breathing increased as his brows furrowed.

“Spencer, you are safe. What's happening now?”

“It's a blur, i-i cant...im calling for you, they’re dark, we’re in a van now-”

“They?”

“Five people, two in the front and the rest with us in the back, the one following us got in when they grabbed us,” he pauses, “they’re not looking and i take out my phone, just as i look up i see a road sign,”

“French Road”

“Yeah, yeah I sent that to you, I messaged it and added east, because we traveled east. One of the men sees my phone, he's slapped it out of my hand as another grabs my hair,” Spencer flinches and you have to stop yourself from grabbing his hand, “they throw Morgan and i somewhere, it's dark and smells, it's a sewer. I hear Rossi shouting, then i black out. The next time I wake up, everyone else is with us and they start questioning us, asking random things.”

“Random things?”

“Like lie detector questions; remember the Adam Jackson case? With D.I.D.?”

“I remember; its questions like random maths, english?”

“Yeah, yeah like that. I think they’re seeing how alive we are, if we are awake. We all are, I take a little to answer my question.”

“What was your question?” he pauses.

“‘What is the molecular formula for hydromorphone hydrochloride’”

“Dilaudid”

“Well, morphine but that's what they wanted me to remember anyway. It took a moment for me to come around, but I answered, correctly; C17H19NO3”

“What did they do?”

“They left, when we all answered our questions they left.”

“When’s the next time they come back?”

“I'm not sure, I just remember waking up and J.J. was being beaten,” Spencers voice shuddered at the mention of J.J. 's name.

“Good, that's good Spence,”

“C-can i open my eyes now?” of course he would ask before doing it, he couldn't see it but you did smile.

“Yeah, yeah you can Spence,” Spencer was quick to take action and opened his eyes, squinting at the white of the hospital walls around him.

“Did you tell them-”

“There is no morphine in your system Spencer,” you started, “there isn't anything else the doctors can do besides wait,” you sighed softly as you took Spencers hand in yours, “because it's a morphine based drug they can't do anything else,” Spencer nodded but you still had a feeling something was wrong, ”Spence?”

“How long has it been?” Spencer looked like he was going to cry.

“Three days,” the sharp intake of Spencers breath gave it away quickly, “the others have gone through the same line of cognitives Spencer, the story holds and it’s something we can use against the people that took you-”

“You mean they’re still not in jail?” Spencer questioned quietly, you sighed softly.

“They have to go through some other things first but i have been told that their sentence will be long, long enough for what they’ve done,”

“Im sorry,” Spencer sniffled, the tears in his eyes fell and hit the gown he was wearing, “i'm so sorry,”

“For what bubba?” it was hard to see the one you love looking and feeling like this, but you both had to stay strong. He shrugged.

“I broke my stre-”

“Don't you dare say that,” by now you had gotten up and were towering over Spencer as he refused to look at you, “you did not break anything, you didn't break a single thing Spencer. Those men, those people- those disgusting people! They did. They broke it. Not you.” you said firmly, Spencer nodded weakly. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek and made him look at you, his teary eyes made you weak at the knees as you ducked down and kissed his forehead.

“The fact that you uh,” Spencer sniffed and wiped his eyes, “you found us in under fifteen hours,” he laughed.

“What, you think i wouldn't?” you questioned, the joking lighting the mood.

“No, no, I just,” he paused, and with fake sadness said, “I just thought you'd find us in under ten,” you lightly punched Spencer's arm with mock anger as he laughed.

“That’s so rude Spence! Garcia and I went through a lot!”

“I know i know!” Spencer exclaimed with a smile. Though the team had gone through hell and back they looked in perfect health, unfortunately masking their trauma too easily.

-----

The entire team was given a mandatory four weeks off as well as daily therapy sessions for those weeks with once a week group therapy; the whole team coming in and talking about their week and what they’ve done via their therapist and such. Yourself, Spencer and Garcia had it worse as you and Garcia were the ones trying to find your friends and Spencer O.D.ed for three minutes.

Spencer was 10 minutes late, but you all agreed to start without him.

“I wrote down everything that happened,” you started, “but i still start to panic when i don't see anyone in the mornings,”

“That's normal (Y/n)” the therapist said from her chair, “from what you, and your team, has gone through it is very normal to feel sudden panic when not being able to pinpoint them. The same with your team,” her eyes flitted around to the others, “it is completely normal for you to feel panicked when possibly out at a bar, in a bookstore or anywhere without your friends,” she was about to open her mouth again to speak when the large doors opened harshly and out stepped Spencer, bag in hand and rushing to the only seat (which was next to you) open. He gave a rushed smile and avoided eye contact.

“Traffic,” Spencer mumbled, you two had gotten up at the same time (seeing as you lived together obviously) but Spencer said he wanted to stay back and finish some final paperwork before he came in; this wasn't an unusual thing to happen as it has happened before, so you had left with a kiss and a promise to see him in a few hours.

“Traffic?” the therapist asked.

“Yes traffic, that is what I said,” Spencer countered as he picked at his fingers, the therapist stayed silent for a moment.

“Would you like to share with the group what you have done this week?” she questioned, Spencer thought he subtly rolled his eyes before he finally looked up to his fellow teammates, but you had caught it. And he knew you did.

“I wake up feeling panicked sometimes,” Spencer started with a shrug, “that's about it.”

“Why panicked?” the therapist pressed.

“Because (Y/n) isn't next to me, they get up a little earlier than i do a lot of the time,” he looked at you with such sadness that you couldn't help the sympathetic smile you sent his way.

“Well, maybe you could ask (Y/n) to wake up at the same time,” the therapist pointed at yourself when she said your name. You nodded.

“I don't mind Spence, you can just ask,” you smiled sweetly to Spencer but he broke eye contact before you could even look at him and nodded, a ‘cool’ whispered under his breath as he twiddled his thumbs. Everyone went quiet for a moment.

“Well, I believe that concludes this week's therapy together!” the therapist said too happily as everyone started getting up and putting their chairs away, “please remember to keep going with your practices and remember to come in for your individual sessions!” Everyone gave a thank you and goodbye as the group started walking back to the bullpen; cases had been taken away from the team until a full evaluation and mental health check went over all of the team members. You jogged to keep up with Spencer.

“Wanna go out for lunch later babe?” you questioned, hand going out to hold his. Until it was whipped away quickly by the recipient.

“No, I'm good,” Spencer mumbled as he sped up his steps, causing you to slow your steps down and stopping completely as Spencer turned a corner and was out of sight. He didn't see the tears starting to spill down your cheeks as you felt a hand softly connect with your shoulder, making you jump and turn to face the person.

“We’ve seen it before,” Hotch said in his monotone voice, you nodded as you quickly wiped the tears away.

“Unfortunately i know,” you mumbled through a shaky breath, yourself and Spencer hadn't gotten together for awhile, simply pining after each other for a few years before finally opening up and becoming a couple. You had been his best friend for years before, being friends when you both were in college (him being younger than you but you two still getting into the FBI academy a year after the other), you had been the one person he confided in when the whole Tobias thing happened and was the number one reason (in Spencers words) that helped him get through his addiction.

“You should intervene,” Hotch said. So he knew too. You nodded.

“What if we’re wrong?” you questioned, it was always the ‘what ifs’ that got all of you.

“It’s been three weeks,” Hotch reminded you, “he wouldn't still be like this if he wasn't,” you sighed but nodded in understanding as Hotch pat your shoulder for a second and walked off to the bullpen, leaving you with your shaking breath and slight panic attack.

Spencer was using again.

But you had to find evidence before intervening.

-

Time was short as Spencer excused himself from his desk for the toilet. As he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight you made quick work with the limited time you had and delved into Spencer's bag.

Books, pencils, notepad, stray chess pieces, files and folders.

Damn.

Nothing.

It couldn't be that obvious could it? You sighed softly and took a peek to see if Spencer was coming back, when he didn't suddenly float into the room you turned to his desk and opened the drawers; shuffling through them.

“(Y/n)?” Spencer asked from behind you, you slammed the drawer shut and whirled around to face your boyfriend.

“Spence!” you gave a strained laugh.

“Why are you going through my drawers?” he questioned with a cock of his eyebrow.

“Just tryna find something,” you lied through your teeth, it didn't taste nice, “wow look!” you picked up the closest thing to you, a stapler, “found it!”

“You could've asked instead of going through my drawers,” Spencer mumbled offhandedly as he reached down in front of you and grabbed his bag before walking away.

“Where are you going?” you questioned, your voice carrying out through the whole bullpen, Spencer looked around at the few pairs of eyes looking at him, those few including his teammates before he did a 180 degree turn and went stalking off to the toilets.

If Spencer was using again then he was smart enough not to do it at work, unless you had missed it when shuffling through his bag.

-

Spencer seemed to be in a daze for most of the day as you gave him a chaste kiss, saying goodbye to him and the team as you headed home; your paperwork for the day ended quicker than the others. You made a mission to find plausible evidence of Spencer using again, if he was smart he would leave it at home, if he was smarter he would keep it on him, if he was as smart as his 187 IQ then he wouldn't be using at all. That is if he even is.

You rifled through everything in the house; books, cabinets, drawers, wardrobes, unused boxes, the back of your kitchen cabinets and drawers, turning the house upside down to find that small bottle of nightmares.

But to no avail.

The hours that passed seemed to go so slowly and yet so fast as you cleaned the house of your excursions, made yourself a cup of tea and settled down with a book, of course as soon as you opened it the first page had writing in the margins and title page; it was Spencer's book, the notes made you smile as the pages made you forget the recent nightmares for a few hours. The keys jingling in the lock made you jump from your imagination as Spencer stepped through the threshold and into the room, you gave him a sweet smile that he didn't even notice as he walked away to the bedroom with his bag. He never did that, Spencer always left his bag at the door in case he had to rush in order for him to grab and go.

“I was thinking of ordering in for dinner!” you called through the house, “haven't had some for a few weeks, treat ourselves!”

“Yeah whatever you want doll!” Spencer called back, he was chipier suddenly. You forced yourself to focus on the sounds coming from the bedroom but couldn't decipher exactly what they were when Spencer came back out wearing a cotton shirt and some plaid pants, you cocked an eyebrow.

“You got comfy quickly,” you mentioned, “normally you wait a few hours in case we have to go back.” Spencer shrugged as he walked into the kitchen and got himself a glass of water.

“Can't be bothered,” Spencer tried his hardest to mask the slurping of the water but when it got low enough he couldn't help himself as he downed a second glass.

“Didn't drink much today i see,” you mumbled as you looked back to your book, the empty tea cup almost calling your name for a second time as Spencer came up behind the couch and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your head. You chuckled, completely forgetting about his previous antics from the day, “chippy i see”, you felt Spencer shrug behind you.

“I think i just missed being with you is all,” Spencer mumbled into your hair, “smell good, you shower?” you laughed.

“Last night yeah,” you smiled and looked up at Spencer, the top of your head colliding softly with Spencers, also soft, tummy.

“That's my book?” Spencer observed as his eyes ran over the written graphite in the margins, you looked back down at the book and nodded.

“Mm hmm, didn't realise when i picked it up but i'm enjoying the little annotations,” you smiled softly as Spencer started kissing from the top of your head to your neck, soft pecks turned into nibbles, turned into purple bruises.

“Haven't felt you in so long,” Spencer mumbled into your neck, his hands gliding lower from your shoulders and down your torso.

“Yeah?” you questioned, feeling his fingers trace over your shirt, you knew the answer, and you definitely knew what was going to come out from this.

“Please?” Spencer asked, ah, consent, his number one turn on. The thought almost made you chuckle as you nodded.

“Yes,” you placed the book on the coffee table next to the abandoned empty cup and followed Spencer into the bedroom, his hand soft in yours as he guided you on the short trip.

That night made you forget about the previous days. It was true that you and Spencer hadn't done anything together for awhile, therapy taking up time along with paperwork and just not feeling in the moment of things, but that night was full of bliss; exploring one another again like it was your first time all over again.

It was beautiful. Truely.

For you anyway.

Of course Spencer loved it, every moment of it was beautiful and full of bliss for him as well, but there was a nagging in the back of his head, one that he couldn't shut up, even with your beautiful body in front of him. You were dead to the world, snuggled under the covers, as Spencer crept into your linked bathroom; there was someone else calling his name just as loud as you and Spencer had been calling each other's names a few hours ago.

Except this wasn't someone.

It was something.

And Spencer knew that this something wasn't right, of course he did. He was throwing away so much time, so many days and weeks of being clean, so many years. Unfortunately the nightmares Spencer had been talking about in group therapy where back.

And they were real.

Very, very real.

--------

The following week you worked on the paperwork from previous cases including material profiles on paper evidence until you got called in for your daily therapy session.

“So,” Mike started, “how has today been? Yesterday at group therapy?” you shrugged, thoughts clouded, “something on your mind?” Mike pressed.

“How would you gain evidence if you think someone is using drugs again without raising suspicion of everyone and said person?” you questioned quickly, “asking for a friend,” the end was added as a joke.

“Well, you would intervene,” Mike said. That's what you liked about Mike, he never questioned anything you asked or said, you could say you killed a man and he would ask how you hid the body and help with your alibi.

“How?” you questioned in a strained voice, the thought of Spencer using again was getting to you.

“Take them somewhere they're comfortable, sit them down and simply: ask” Mike said as he jotted down some things in his little notebook.

“If you're writing that I'm paranoid then dont bother,” Mike looked up from the book, “i'm not. I know that they’re using again, but if I don't have plausible evidence then they’ll just…” you shrugged, ''well I don't really know, do i?” Mike took a moment to respond.

“How are you feeling after your team got kidnapped,” it was a daily question, steering you away from the topic.

“Fine.”

“You're not,” Mike observed.

“Yeah well if its that fucking obvious then why arent these sessions helping?” you questioned aggressively, then paused, “i'm sorry.”

“It's quite alright (Y/n), bouts of random and unprecedented anger are normal after traumatic events like that,” Mike explained, “how do you think the others are going?”

“Not well, i can tell. Hotch is refusing to speak, Rossi is faking everything he says and does, Emily, J.J., and Garcia are all a bubbling mess of tears, Derek dissociates a lot more now and Spence…” you paused, Mike noticed this.

“Is the one using”

“That's what we think,” you sniffled softly and pulled a tissue from the nearby box before getting up from the chair you sat on and walking to one of the large windows, “do you think he’s in pain?” you questioned.

“I think they’re all in a great deal of pain,” Mike responded, “but. If you’re asking as a professional opinion I think they need time. If you're asking as a friend, well, i think you should be there for him,” your ear twitched at the change of pronoun for Spencer, saying ‘him’ specifically instead of ‘them’. You nodded.

“What should i do?”

“Ask. If you can't talk to your boyfriend about it then you’re not ready to face it, and the more time that goes past about it is the less time you potentially have to spend with him,” Mike was wise, you knew that, but that sounded too cheesy to be him, so you laughed softly.

“You sound like a wise old owl,” you mentioned as you grabbed your bag.

“I see you’ve been keeping track of the time,” Mike commented; you had 2 minutes left of the session.

“I see you’ve been keeping track of me,” you shot back playfully before leaving the room and going back to your paper profiles, the previous events playing in your mind; the kidnapping, finding the team, the group therapy, that session, Spencer. Of course you could have been wrong about what the other team members could be doing, and of course you lied slightly; Emily wouldn't be crying, she’d mask it like Hotch and pretend everything is okay like Rossi. J.J. would just blubber about her husband and kids. But the others were correct. A chocolate muffin sat on your desk with a note attached to the wrapping;

‘Love,

We need to talk.

Nothing bad, kind of.

Tonight?

Xx

S’

Spencer. You smiled softly, maybe he would come clean, tell you what's been going on in his giant mind like he’s meant to be doing. You held the note close to your chest and gave it a kiss before sitting down and biting into the muffin and continuing your work; you didn't see the pair of eyes watching you, filled with love and guilt that was standing next to the coffee machine, sugar tin almost empty.

-------

Spencer wasn't exactly dreading tonight, oh no, he wasn't looking forward to it of course, but he knew, knows, it's for the best. The rest of the day went by in a little blur; chaste kisses from you, sessions, talking with people, jamming the photocopier, and coffee. The bag wrapped around Spencer's torso felt like five tons against his tiny frame, weighing him down for the most of the day, the only time he couldn't feel that weight was when you were around; talking, kissing Spencer, holding his hand, little comments, slight brushes when rushing past each other. Those moments were the moments that brought up his confidence in preparation for tonight; he can't live without you, but he wouldn't die for you, oh no, he would live for you. Which is slightly ironic in Spencer's mind but it fits, he wouldn't let this nightmare come back for round two without trying his best to kick its ass first, and the only way he knew how to do that was, is, with you by his side.

Spencer felt triumphant as he walked through those glass doors and into the elevator, you had left two hours previously but Spencer didn't mind, it gave you both time to wind down and get ready for this talk. Which is exactly what you both needed. He knew you knew, you knew he knew that you knew, now it's just the point of who would come clean first.

-------

Spencer stood out the front of his apartment.

Apartment 23.

It felt like such a large barrier, a large step, one that’s heavy and is hard to make. But it was also an escape, an escape, and that’s what Spencer had to remember, his home (and yours) is a sanctuary, a safe space for the both of you no matter what the problem is. A big sigh escaped Spencer's lungs as he the floor started swaying beneath him, his breath being held, black and white dots encapsulating his vision.

And then he was through the door.

And it all drifted away as you walked from the kitchen holding two dinner plates.

“Spence!” you exclaimed happily, bringing Spencer from his thoughts, “roast pork for dinner tonight, adn veggies,” you smiled and placed the plates on the table before leaving again. Spencer brought his hands up to put his bag down but thought against it and instead leant it against the table as he sat down, you coming out again with a bottle of spirit water, the bottle fizzing when cracked open.

“Thought you would go for wine tonight” Spencer commented as you filled his glass, “thanks,” you shrugged as you poured your own drink before putting the bottle to the side and sitting down.

“Thought this would be better to go with the meal, clean the palette and everything,” you smiled as Spencer picked up his knife and fork as his mouth also opened to drop a fact.

“In Normandy, locals rely on apple brandy as a digestive called Le Trou Normand, or the Norman break. It’s a shot of Calvados in the middle of the meal which can be served as a sorbet rather than a shot of alcohol,” Spencer rambled slightly with a smile as he ate his dinner. It felt natural, you two never really got to have special dinners like this, instead opting for take out or left overs. The comment was left hanging in the air as both you and Spencer dug into the delicious meat and vegetables, cooked to perfection that both you and Spencer loved. Spencer cut the fat off of his piece of meat and left it on a side dish that you put down earlier; Spencer didn't, doesn't, like fat from meat, ‘it’s too chewy’ he’d always say.

“How have you been since…?” you questioned, voice cutting through the nice silence. Spencer stopped eating for a moment, was this it?

“I’ve been okay,” Spencer said softly as he continued eating after a second, “bored,” he shrugged, “only read five books recently, just can’t seem to focus,” you nodded.

“That’s normal after traumatic events Spencer, you know this,” you cleared your throat and took a mouthful of your drink, “maybe you could read to me after this?” Spencer's foot shuffled closer to his bag, it leaning against the leg of the table.

“If-” Spencer cut himself off, what should he say? ‘If you want?’, then there was no use for the note and it'll go unspoken, ‘we have to talk?’ no, that sounds like there's something bad. Fuckfuckfuck.

“Spence?” your voice brought Spencer out of his railroad of thoughts as you put down your knife and fork having finished your food.

“We need to talk tonight,” Spencer started, “but I want it to be natural, I don't want it to be forced,” you nodded.

“I feel the same,” you said softly, it wasn't hostile, you weren't angry, you were compassionate and understanding, “you finish your food and then you can read to me, yeah?” you questioned, Spencer nodded as he continued eating while you brought your plate into the kitchen to be washed later in the night. You kissed the top of Spencer's head when you passed him on your way to the bookshelf, the silence that followed was calm but there was heat behind it, the air wanted to squeeze into your lungs and bring the words you both oh so wanted to say.

But you held back.

Both of you.

“The Illustrated Man?” you asked as Spencer walked out of the kitchen having put his plate away and taking a mouthful of his drink. He hummed.

“What about Papillon?” Spencer asked as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he scanned the bookshelf for other books.

“No, reminds me too much of that Ted Bundy film too much,” you sighed out, you almost gave up before a book caught your eye; your hand moving out to grab it before you could even stop yourself as you handed it to Spencer.

“Murder on The Oriant Express huh?” Spencer questioned as he flipped the book over a few times, he nodded, “yeah, i could go with a murder mystery tonight” he smiled, as did you, as the two of you moved to the couch to read.

-

Hours passed of Spencer reading to you, and then the two of you switched for you to read to him. Neither of you said anything, almost forgetting about the elephant in the room.

“Do you think this is profiling?” you questioned as you got to a chapter, “what Poirot does?”

“I would think so,” Spencer said softly, “he deduces certain things to come to a conclusion, using evidence and simple common knowledge and deduction skills like Sherlock; id say he does”

“Do you think that's how i figured it out?” you questioned, Spencer brought his body up from its cuddled position to look at you.

“Figured out what?”

“That you’re using again”

Silence.

“So we’re going to talk about it,” Spencer spoke with such uncertainties you didn't know how to respond for a moment.

“So you are using again,” you spoke in a quiet voice, afraid that if your voice was too loud itll shatter the surrounding places.

“No.” Spencer was quick to disagree, “i mean,” he sighed as he fiddled with his hands, eyes staring at the carpet, refusing to look at you, “i did, for a little” you placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder as the book was discarded on the coffee table, “i stopped taking last week,” Spencer sniffled as he wiped his nose, tears landing in his lap, “i didn't want to, i really didn't, but it just got so hard, hard to cope with everything that has happened previously, every single case, every kid, every adult and father and mother and sister and brother and-”

“Spence breath” you commanded softly, Spencer had started hyperventilating as he spoke, he looked to you, finally, with tear filled eyes as you helped him even out his breathing and wiping away his tears.

“I started a few days after i was cleared from the hospital,” Spencer started again, his voice wavering slightly as he talked, “from there i started again, i don't know how long for,” Spencer looked down at his hands again, “i've lost my sense of time a lot more recently since starting again, so” he shrugged, “I knew how bad it was and could get but I didn't stop myself. Then I found you snooping in my drawers,” Spencer laughed softly at the memory, you doing the same, ''I found you snooping and i saw things in my bag messed about so i knew you had been looking for something, and i knew you knew what i was doing. Of course you did,” Spencer wiped his nose again, “that’s when i gave you that note, because i knew i had to stop, and it's been hard but i have” Spencer looked at you for reassurance.

“You did good Spencer,” you started, “i'm not...im not happy that you went back, you know i'm not,” he nodded, “and i'm not happy that you didn't tell me about you wanting to relapse,” another nod, “but i'm happy that you stopped yourself, and though it's not the perfect thing to be kidnapped again, you helped yourself stop this time,” you played with Spencer's hair as you talked. “I wish you told me,”

“I know”

“And i wish i could have helped,”

“I know”

“But I still love you,” Spencer smiled.

“Yeah?”

“Of course,” you sighed into Spencer's hair, “can’t leave you after everything that's happened and what we’ve been through, ‘snot right,” you slurred slightly, Spencer chuckled softly, “also because you’re great in bed,” you joked causing Spencer to laugh as a silence settled over the two of you for a moment.

“I’ll get help,”

“I know you will bub,” you threaded your fingers through Spencer's hair, “and i’ll be there every step of the way, always,” you pulled Spencer close, “is it still in your bag?” he nodded hesitantly. You got up slowly and pulled Spencer along with you as you dug in his bag, your fingers finally coming in contact with a glass bottle, you pulled it out as Spencer’s sharp intake of breath came from behind you.

“There's...here let me,” Spencer lent down to grab the bag, placing it on the nearest surface as he dug through it for a moment before pulling out another small glass bottle as his other hand went in. Spencer handed you the bottle as he pulled out two capped needles and shoved them into your hands as well, he didn't look at the needles or bottles and instead turned around, “I don't want them anymore, I really don't,” you nodded.

“We’ll dispose of these properly,” you said with a smile, Spencer couldn't see it but with your retreating footsteps Spencer finally turned around to see you placing the items into a small plastic bag, “tomorrow,” Spencer nodded as the two of you retreated to the bedroom.

“I um,” Spencer spoke as he started getting dressed for bed, you doing the same, “i just wanted you to know; the other night, when we had…”

“Sex,” you finished for Spencer with a slight laugh, he nodded.

“You fell asleep and...i….”

“I know,” you said softly, your fingers held Spencer's waist softly over the cotton shirt he wore as he stared at you.

“You-?”

“It's okay,” your fingers felt like heaven against Spencer's waist as your thumbs rubbed the spots they sat at, he nodded in understanding. You pressed your lips against Spencers in a soft, reassuring and loving kiss, one that you both needed before climbing into bed and cuddling as close as you could possibly get.

French Road, East taglist: @thelovelyrose || @colorfulsunflowerx || @thatsonezesty13 || @loki-an-idiot || @parkeroffline || @briannareneea985 || @lovebodymindstuff || @dilaudidwinchester || @awkwardnesshabitat

[theteej]

“You need to take serious time for yourself, do self-care, or something,” my best friend Mark said to me, uncomfortably earnestly. 

“I’m serious.  You haven’t been letting anything in, and you just have to sit and stop running.  Go process, or feel, or just let it sink in that you did things and you surprisingly don’t suck.”

Fuck, he’s right.

And so that’s what I’m doing.  Last week I booked an Airbnb in La Jolla, a tony coastal enclave of San Diego near where I went to undergrad.  I pretended I was on vacation, but in a pandemic.  I booked a small studio near the water, and planned to spend these next few days reading, reflecting, walking along the ocean, and staying otherwise indoors and trying to wrestle with this whole semester.  I pulled up to the studio last night, unpacked my bags, and cried.  Like cried a lot.  I felt lonely and scared, but also so numb.  I felt a sea of blankness all around me, and a sense of trepidation.

Honestly, I don’t know what to do about all of my stupid feelings.

 

Where to start?

 

I feel like I’ve been anxious nearly my whole life.  It’s absolutely something that developed as a kid with a violent, drunken father.  You learn to live in between heartbeats like that, always testing what’s about to happen, trying to think of the next thing to plan in order to stay safe.  Sure, your brain says tauntingly.  Things are OK right now, but what if they’re not in a few minutes?  Or even worse: Things ARE terrible—what are you going to do if they stay that way forever?  These are the gifts Tyrone Tallie Sr left me, along with an unoriginal legal name and a stubborn widows peak visible whenever I grow my hair out for a few weeks.

Couple that with a natural tendency to think quickly, and you have the birth of a personality that masked my calculating self-security by turning those constant permutations into clever moments for interaction or comment.  Like many people, my wit is born of trauma; the ability to process things in quick time is born out of needing to feel safe, and frequently gets deployed to put others at ease.  That’s one of the weirder contradictory things about being me.  I am simultaneously witty and clever and in control, and I am also always quietly freaking out, or at the very least, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Which is why this has been….a damn semester.  Teaching two classes fully remotely with panicked, overwhelmed students in the shadow of an ever-worsening pandemic that stretches on and on without end and feeling daily gaslighted by the endless selfishness of your fellow citizens—what a gift for the anxious.  Ironically, anxiety helped to a certain extent because I didn’t have the shock of falling into a new world of uncertainty or fear that so many non-anxious folk did this year.  But that’s hardly a gift, is it?  Congratulations! You’re already living as if a bomb can go off at any moment, so you’re not struggling to adjust to the new horror show of life!

Teaching this semester has been…just without any context.  I’ve taught online, but not in this same planned way and with everyone panicking, and the looming threat of pandemic and election.  And yet we did it.  We pulled ourselves together, and my students were honest about their needs and their breakdowns and I tried to model humility and grace and confusion and rage as well as they did.  We didn’t fuck it up.  Or, we all fucked up, and it was okay.  We learned things. Students surprised me, and it was glorious.  I got to be broken and I didn’t die.

It was an intense semester of overworking as well.  I was on a bunch of committees, formal and informal, and we managed to get a new minor—African Studies—passed.  I’ll be heading a new program on campus next year, and that’s exciting and terrifying.  And on top of all of that, I couldn’t stop volunteering for stuff, or talking about things I cared about.  In addition to teaching, I gave fourteen different presentations or talks this semester, an increase in expectations or agreements on my part thanks to the ubiquity of zoom.  It grinds on you: the whole, get up, trudge to the back room, power up a personality for the zoom camera, and pour yourself digitally into a screen, only to feel yourself broken into little packets of light and data and scattered across the universe.

The talks went well.  The student evaluations went well.  Honestly, both were fucking great.  And I haven’t let myself feel a goddamn thing.  I let it slide off me like rain on a waxed deck, the droplets beading on the slick wood before slipping away into the darkness.  I cant let it sink in, because then something good might be happening, and the very skills that have made me capable—the whip-fast reflexes, the self-deprecating humour, the rapid analysis—are also tied to the very deep-seeded anxiety. Everything has to be calculated and understood and prepared for, because at some moment a dark curtain is going to fall over the face of a man with my same name. He will smack me so hard I will go flying out of a chair and hit the wall with a soft, sickly whump, a particularly unpleasant of me at seven that I carry sewn into every cell of my skin and fiber of my being. 

I can’t stop and let it sink in because I have internalized the worst calculus of overachiever life—push harder, don’t stop for the good, that’s normal.  Stop only for the bad to learn from it, take in its horror, and let it never happen to you again.  And so I found myself at the end of the semester holding a bag of relative joy like a party favour, looking around anxiously for bullies to come snatch it out of my hands.

And then Jeopardy fucking happened.

I got to be on television. I got to talk to Alex Trebek, the same man who held my grandmother’s hand on Classic Concentration and saw that her for the beautiful, formidable queen that she was. I got to turn silly trivia knowledge into cash—and I got to do it while being me. And to my confusion—people liked me.  It went well, they felt I resonated with something inside of them, and they liked it.

I do not, in my own skill set, have the tools to deal with that.  I am supposed to be clever and fast, and witty, and engaging and lovable—but I do not know how to actually think of receiving goodness.  I know how to process being witty and clever and delightful—I did what I was supposed to do, good job, next—but I don’t know how to actually take that positivity in.

I keep waiting for all of this to fall apart, for everyone to hate me in the reassuring ways that I distrust or marginalize or disbelieve myself.  And yet, I know that’s not helpful.  Hence, overachiever’s therapy: forcing oneself to prematurely trade on prize money and spend a three day love/relaxation retreat, less than fifteen miles from my own apartment.

I woke up and cried a little.  I then tried to mediate or at least focus on the positives of late.  Nope. Nothing came.  I decided it was time for coffee.  I drank some that I made in the Airbnb, but realized I needed to get outside for a walk.  I changed into a bright yellow caftan and an extra-dramatic face mask, and went for a walk on the streets of La Jolla, the bougie and strange bubble by the sea.

La Jolla can double in weird ways like other parts of the world I frequent.  It feels sometimes like I’m in Durban (if you’re more partial to Umhlanga Rocks or Durban North) or Wellington (if you love Mount Vic or Oriental Bay), or even Vancouver (if you feel like West Point Grey or the haughtiest parts of Kitsilano are your thing).  It’s a rich place, one that I don’t belong in, but one that I can feign a few hours of enjoyment and sun.

Today I walked down palm tree lined streets in the perfect weather, the breeze pushing through my still-short hair with a strange urgency.  I picked up a cold brew coffee and a freshly caught and grilled halibut sandwich that my therapist recommended (we decided to briefly be pescatarian for a day and chalked it up to the ‘medical advice.’), then I turned toward the coast.  I sat for a long time looking at the waves—unsurprisingly—with a bit of anxiety. 

What if I relaxed WRONG?  What if I couldn’t let myself feel joy?  What if I just wasted the day by…eating this sandwich and not fully appreciating the beautiful ocean waves, golden sun, or nature all around me.  After a while I realized that sounded ridiculous, and just forced myself to sit.

And as the old Zulu language dance song “Unamanga” by the late Patricia Majalisa started to filter to my headphones, as I stared out at the sea and the sun, something shifted.  I felt something like, I don’t know, a failure in the sealnt around myself, and some drops dripped in, slowly.  Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to do this in a grand gesture.  I could enjoy myself and the small joys I’d found in life so far. 

I could be grateful and quietly glad for the little things that happened.  It wasn’t about deserving it, or about it being worthy of me.  I could imagine for right now, that this was a thing that I could have.  I could sit and marvel that some great shit happened to me, and it was OK.  Let’s not get it twisted—I didn’t have an epiphany, there were no turnbacks on the road to Emmaus.  But I did find a little quietude in my soul for a second and stopped frantically Teflon-ing my heart from joy for a second.

I survived a hell semester, and did well. I got a wonderful opportunity and it went well.  I could just let hat happen and also not ignore that it happened, to focus on negatives in an outsized way.  I could, in this single afternoon moment, be delighted that things had gone okay.  And not worry or strategize about the next disaster, which would happen on its own anyway.  And…that’s all I can do right now.

Also, I’m going to work on this more, this whole letting people love me and letting it sink in.  I usually avoid it because I feel like it keeps me off my game from the inevitable disaster to follow.  But that’s not how I want to live.  I’m going to try to think about what it means that some of you all tell me you love me, and then to show it.  I need to reconcile the nonstop whirligig of my mind also turns menacingly in on itself so often, and that acknowledging the gift of calculated wit and mirth also means I have to cultivate love and joy.

So tomorrow, I’m going to go for a brief run, I’m going to drink some lovely coffee, and I’m going to walk along the ocean again.  (And then I’m going to keep staying in this Airbnb so I don’t catch or spread this plague.)

 

What a fucking semester, y’all.

[currentfandomkick]

Bio! Dad Strange part 4

Shorter but a paris update for her life and a little on gotham with Jason as Robin while Tim is a hero Stalker.

Marinette is 7 when she changes schools, ordered into the Dupont school chain by her teachers since she was getting ‘difficult’ and contradicting their ciriculum. When they challeneged her on this, she went to the school board with Rolland beside her of all people.

The board agreed on one thing, Marinette’s contradictions were not only factually correct, but were done to prevent the outdated ciriculum from hurting her classmates. Instead of punishing her, she got to skip a gade and was given to Dupont as a ‘highly reccomended gifted student’.

Her first day she met Max, who also skipped a grade. The pair bond in five seconds over a new programming focused on learning emotional intelligence. Uncle Riddler was showing her it, and Max got his hands on a various ai bases. This led to then teaming up and designing the one and only Markov together, if only in schematics.

A week in and the two notice that some kids are being followed around by a guy with a bat. They report it. Again and again, but no one can find him.

One day he catches the pair on their way to Max’s—they wanted to work on their ai together, ok? The guy tries to hit Max, saying something about them being lucky metas that needed to suffer.

Marinette’s gotham training kicked in. She caught the bat, ripped it away from him and hit him in the chest with it, while yelling at max to run.

At the end of the incident, videotaped by a bystander, the Dupont Stalker was arrested.

Marinette was given another name by the police, ‘fille de batte’ or bat girl. Her having family in gotham only made the nickname more popular.

This put her on Kim and Alix’s radar. Kim wanted a challenge for fighting and competitions, and this tiny kid did that—to an adult! New friend and rival!

Alix was went from shock to joy as Marientte does art. She does art. Art friend to rant to found!

Nino ran into Marinette not long after Kim and Alix attached themselves to her and Max. Nino became their judge for Kim challenges. Including Mari pinning Kim to the mat, or deciding who did a circus move better (Mari won acrobatics).

Chloe doesnt go to dupont until next year, and sabrina is in another class, mildly concerned for Marinette.

In this au, again, Dupont is considered a ‘i would not be shocked if there were metas there’ school for gifted kids in any way.

Marinette is sent there for her insane science obsession at the time, but is also put in their arts program with Alix to develop as an artist with her medium, fabrics and fashion.

And if marinette redesigns hero outfits as “monsiuer ross, scribbles have more style, let alone fashion sense” alot, well. Kids get obsessed a lot and the Justice League is a common one, as are known villians. Her everyday outfits having different hero schemes—oddly enough some forensic scientist she’s obsessed with from some american city ended up in her mix—well. She’s a kid and showing signs a few types of anxiety.

Possible social and OCD and a developing case of perfectionism common to the arts program. The school has her see a therapist and know she isnt telling them everything beyong mild concern for her gotham family, and confusion over people just ‘not getting things’ as she is terribly smart and good at finding patterns and how do people not see it?

By the end of the year Marinette is in a strong friend group who’s parents and hers have decided to have joint custody during the school year.

She was now (forced) to learn vietnamese from Kim’s Grandparents, italian from Rolland (her nonno that has a Thing for tradition and somehow married Gina and raised Tom mostly on his own while running the bakery to boot), english from Father/Strange, Mandarin from her Maman and she started Arabic to talk with Nino’s aunt who kept saying marinette was her future in-law and point out that nino and her are friends, not dating ma’am.

However, Nino endured most of this with her-not the italian or Mandarin, but the others. Kim couldnt get Arabic but mandarin was a breeze for him. Alix cannot get vietnamese or arabic but Mandarin is her jam after french. Max just speaks french and english, he understands the others he just cant get the sounds right, ok?

When Marinette goes back to Gotham that summer, she ends up dealing with Hero Stalker Tim (jason is robin now) while looking for Red Hoodie who No oNE is telling her what happened and she’s worried, ok?

Tim feeds her obbsession with fixing problems. He sometimes sends her building layouts of places Catwoman stole from. And then the jewlry reappears thanks to a nervous Marinette coached by Rose and Ghoul while Frost handles her post-fix it freak out. Tim also may or may not get helped by her alot during Batman Stalking Time as she teaches his butt how to sneak and complains he’s worse than penguin.

Tim hates that, works on it, and still has nonidea who she is. He does admit to figuring out who batman may be, but needs more evidence so...

Marinette hits him becuase “thats dangerous!” And tries to lecture him in identites.

Batman’s radiowave was used for said lecture.

“And it puts their families in danger you, uh, hero stalker! And stuff so no more identity investigations!”

“They have the same builds, and did signsture moves from—“ the signal cutout.

He and Jason are more careful... ish. They change channels and monitor the old one.

Sometimes Batman catches Marinette and Tim talking about coldcases and she has asked three times if he heard anything about Jason’s street kid identity. Jason is feeling guilty about this as she’s his Pixie Pop. This lets Bruce know that the probably-clark’s-kid would keep Jason away from GCPD and CPS.

When a convo leads to Batman finding out Tim and Marinette have considered asking the police for help with a case of medicine that needed to be recalled as it was beign used to mule drugs contaminated the batches and hurt patients, but turned it down after she saw some taking bribes from Fish, Batman lets Gordon know and an investigation is launched.

While Bats is away, Jason visits marinette as Robin and tries to get her to bats for more information and a lecture on heroing without adult supervision. Maybe.

Only she’s currently stealing from a sleeping selina at another HQ. A Selina who has stopped trying to stop marinette and let riddler turn her house into one of his ‘traps’ to stop Marinette’s ‘return theiving’.

Jason gets stuck in a trap. Marinette is gone by then, scared Robin will tell Superman about her and he’ll hurt her family or something.

Catwoman is annoyed at Marinette’s sucess. She goes to stop the girl after leaving him tied up for Batman with a message: leave her new kitten-to-be alone.

Follow up talk post-Caught Marinette reverse theiving.

“Blame the Council’s decrees. She’s their little princess, and my new neice,” Catwoman watched Batman carefully.

Confused Batman in interrogator mode. “You mean the Court of Owls, arent they disbanded?”

“Bats, the council is gotham’s underground. Apparently Two-Face made the contracts as penance for scaring the Princess during a breakout. Unless you want an organized attack by the council, steer clear of her.”

Batman conencts the dots and curses himself. The girl he was looking for last summer is the Princess of Gotham’s underground. It will be hell finding her. And Superman/Clark will lose it when he’s told.

He lets the JL know about it, saying ‘possibly kyptonian clone, female child. Gotham’s underground is calling her their Princess. Connor and Kidflash tailed her last summer during the arkham breakout while Robin was with the Titans. Be alert for a small asian girl.’

That was how Marinette ended up on the JL watch list and how Superman had another existential crisis.

Dick freaks out with the Titans over this. Becuase kyltonian raised by villians is terrifying. Jason forwarded the message and adds on “she’s a good kid and wants to help. Somehow keeps zsasz and joker from killing people, so its not good to take her away or issolate her from the villians if you find her. From what i remember, she is terrified of her family beign put in danger. The others wont listen to me. If you can, pass this along to the other sidekicks and your allies—none of them trust me enough to listen. I cant talk to her as a civilian like i used to either for obvious reasons. And she’s terrified of me-Robin. Maybe you can get through to her, or someone else can. Just talk to her first, she’s more reasonsble than she looks”

Dick doesnt read the add on until much later and regrets it.

He met marinette once. She was a very excited kid babbling about aerodynamics in acrobatics and asking about that. Not hero things, not power things, or justice league but That.

He tried to be nice but he was having a horrible mission, saw the girl floating as she rambled and tried to grab her.

She freaked out and bolted, sort of. He got slammed into a building, or would have had she not caught him, rambled in french while trying to apologize (he was a but stunned from the throw, and rebooting as villian-kyptonian was... nice?) and put him on the roof, hit his communicator and said one thing.

“I think i broke your robin? All are robins like bird bones or something?”

He regained a functioning brain as that. That was something he could respond to.

“I am human thank you!”

That seemed to be enough for her as he moved to get up. She waved bye and bolted, something about Rose being mad at her for being late...

“Titans. I think we might have been wrong about the kid...”

Later with Young Justice the info was passed on.

Jason asked if anyone read his attachment and was met with silence. He groaned and told them “so another team she’s going to avoid... great.”

Marinette added the titans to her list of ‘people to aviod—tetch and Jerimah were the worst. Luthor and Cadmus were under them. Then the entire Justice League (they would tell batman or superman. Snitches.), followed by GCPD, CPS, the Bat Family and now Titans. She wonders if she needs to add anyone else, and hates that she cant talk to heroes. They could help with controlling her powers instead of suppressing them but she cant trust them not to give her to superman like batman did with Rose to Poison Ivy and she’s pretty sure Superboy too.

Next time, times marinette accidently put together identities and curses Hero Stalker Tim for her now knowing.

[theoi-crow]

I am really sorry to bother you with this question and my negative energy. I really appreciate all you do on here and how much effort you put into helping all the people on your blog. You seem to have a pretty clear/solid line of communication with your Gods, which is really alluring to most of us new polytheists... which I'm sure you worked hard on for years. I know you've made posts about Aphrodite being loving towards followers with mental health issues

Pt2: and of how Aphrodite has helped you and many others get thru their issues. Devoting myself to her gave me a push to reformat my days and I've been working harder to make better choices because of her... but my faith is so wavy. I have a hard time with binge eating, and it's something that has coat me my health and financial situation. I've tried harder and cant stop, and while Aphrodite has been strict with me through tarot, I find myself realizing that maybe I'm not doing enough for her

Pt3: or trying hard enough to get over things for her. My own insecurities get in the way most  of the time and I just feel hopeless in my communication with her. I dont feel her love like i did when i started. All i feel is my own judgement and I'm trying but in the end I'm worried I'm not doing enough, or working hard enough on myself, or if I'm just a waste of her time or efforts. I've worked so hard on my faith but I feel empty and cant hear her or know for sure. I want to make her proud.

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

Hi, first I want to apologize for not being able to reply sooner, with the trip and college, it's been hard to get around to replying but I know exactly what you're talking about. 

I also want to mention that while my connection with the gods seems solid, I do have moments where I won't hear and feel the gods for days, weeks or even months. I don't post about these moments but I want to mention it more so others see that this is normal. I wrote a post about it here: (LINK)

The second thing I want to mention is that I used to have a problem with binge eating when I had a food addiction that I've been struggling with for years that has thankfully subsided in the last few years but it's not easy and you really need to be gentle with yourself. 

I personally think mental health problems require your own kindness because it becomes a vicious cycle of guilt and strictness that can easily lead to being disappointed in one's self and self-loathing which can lead to the loss of hope and fear that you'll never recover. If being strict works for you, do that but it sounds like it's not working. 

Being gentle with yourself, forgiving yourself, and reminding yourself that you can do this, that you love yourself are all things that keep hope in your mind and it's this hope that helps you see the light at the end of the tunnel.

This gentleness, being kind to yourself means the willingness to acknowledge that you are human and we humans make mistakes. We make mistakes and then we learn from those mistakes. According to science, It's how we've evolved as a species.

Forgive yourself for the times when you do what you said you wouldn't and try again. Keep trying because this practice will get easier but beating yourself up over it makes it hard to be okay with making mistakes because your body knows you'll be upset with it if it messes up. 

Be kind to your body, forgive it and encourage it to try and try again.

Try as many times as you have to, and know that you will get through this. If you need professional help, ask Apollo (if he's a god you work with) to help you find a therapist. If not, ask Aphrodite to ask Apollo for you or reach out to Apollo because mental health also falls under his domain and addiction/problems like binging will often require medical professionals. 

If you don't have access to reach out to a medical professional, ask Apollo to help you find free sources online and books that will help as well as helping you find communities that can support you. 

Another thing that I want to mention is your shadow self. Your shadow self will try to convince you that you aren't doing enough for the gods and it can even mimic the gods when they talk to you which is why I have set rules for interacting with them so I'm not accidently confusing a god with my shadow self: (LINK)

It can even mess with your tarot communication with the gods: (LINK)

Here is an amazing Masterpost for working on your shadow self: (LINK)

The reason why I say all of this is because I've had these same problems as well and these are the things that have helped me. I also sense Aphrodite telling me that you doing the best that you can is enough for her. Plus, as the goddess of love (including self-love) she wants you to be a lot kinder and more patient with yourself. 

Binge eating is a monster of a problem (it's a dark place I never want to go back to), I've had to do so much self-love as well as seek psychological help to help me break from that and so so so much shadow work. 

Be kind to yourself and know that you are not alone. Aphrodite is NOT mad at you, you are more than enough and she's not disappointed. Do your best but be willing to forgive yourself. Keep trying and keep talking to the gods. If they are cruel be suspicious of your shadow self and remember that they love you no matter what happens: (LINK)

Commit the post in that last link to memory and read it as many times as you have to.

You are loved and the gods love you. 

I hope this helps. 

May Aphrodite's warmth wrap your heart so you may understand that love transforms and frees the spirit of any addiction. 

[faeriesuns]

i don't know if you've talked about this already, and don't feel pressured to talk about it now, (please delete this if its too uncomfortable!!) but how have you done recovery? im pretty sure i have disordered eating habits/thoughts/things, but i can't get help right now. what are some thoughts, actions and things that helped you? all the love. you are a light.

hi ive never talked about this before, so i might get a bit rambly,, its my bad habit :]

i am going to be honest with you, im doing this recovery thing all by myself, so im pretty much winging it. a couple therapists have helped but ive never gotten skinny enough for urgent care or inpaitent. one therapist has even reccomended for me to continue to lose weight before stopping at a healthy weight.

in autumn 2018 i was put on a medication with gaining weight as a side effect. I gained 30 lbs in 3 months and ever since then i have not been able to lose any weight- at all. Im 5'3 and around 145-150 lbs, depending. it ruined my already shakey mental health and i spiraled. it took a long time to come out of that hole. im still uncomfortable in my body and my body image hasnt improved considerably at all.

to be honest most days i dont even think im in recovery, i am just sick differently. i still count my calories and weigh myself obsessively. this blog is one thing that ive put a lot of myself into and following recovery accounts has helped.

what i try to do is first work on my mental health. im the best ive been since i was 14 and getting better has helped my journey on recovering. the next thing is hard for me to do, but every couple days i look at myself in a full body mirror and pick one thing about me to appreciate and maybe even love. for example, i love my legs because they help me walk and dance and skip and have mobility. then i try to think of one way to be thankful. i am thankful that i have good legs that can carry me wherever i go.

it's really hard and sometimes i cant do it, but it has helped me shape my thoughts around being kinder to myself. Thats another important thing- be kinder to yourself and your body. sometimes that means eating a piece of chocolate or a kitkat and telling urself that its fine and u deserve it. other times like when i just get out of the shower, i try to forgive myself for causing harm to my body. Try to forgive yourself. our bodies are a wonderful thing that gives us all life; please remember to be nice and caring to it. you wouldnt be mean to another persons body, would you? then why be mean to urself?? try to follow more ed recovery blogs for motivation to keep working on healing yourself, thats what i do.

i also allow myself to have snacks whenever i want, i eat usually 2 or 3 meals a day, with most of everything i eat being vegetables, fruits, rice, pasta, bread, eggs, almond milk, etc. But for my snacks i have cheez it's, peanuts, rice crackers, cookies, pies, chocolate animal cookies, etc. Allow urself to snack on whatever sounds good or that you have been craving!! i also eat a lot of frozen food like pizza, fish sticks, chicken nuggets, tater tots, fries, etc. i let myself have whatever i want and sounds good to my soul. i enjoy food a lot and its been a discovery what i like now, and to try everything i didnt let myself have before. but remember moderation, dont just binge on stuff!! it hurts ur tummy and its a health risk.

Oh and i try to love myself. i try not to be mean to myself or make snide comments, and im always trying to learn to love my body, even the parts that are major insecurities.

of course i reccomend getting professional help if you can, and as soon as possible when this virus is gone.

im sorry for being so rambly and not having a lot of tips or tricks for you :( im still making this up as i go, and these are just things that help me. it might not help much, but i hope it does help you.

i love u and u got this 💪 ^___^

[fairycosmos]

I’m not trying to dump my problems on you, but I really need to get this out. I’m 21 and I’ve never been in a relationship and I’m super confused about my sexuality...... idk if I’m asexual/gay/bi/straight or whatever I literally have no clue and I’m scared of people and intimacy and I can’t imagine myself being in love and spending the rest of my life with someone

hey, you’re not dumping your problems on me at all. and it’s really ok not to know! i understand that it’s confusing and painful and there is stability in being able to find an identity that ‘fits’ you, but getting to that point is not fast or easy for most. and while that’s frustrating, it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you at all. i promise. even if you do eventually come to some personal conclusions, sexuality is a fluid thing for a lot of people. it’s not always definitive, or like 100% certain. above all, there’s truly no wrong answer or way to feel. if you’ve never been in a relationship then it’s no surprise that you’re unsure about who/what you like, because you have no points of reference. i want to stress that it’s veryyyy normal to be single in early adulthood. i know it seems like literally everyone else in the whole world had some amazing love story in their teens/college years but seriously, it is so so common to be inexperienced at your age. your brain is just making you notice those who are in relationships more because you crave it. but my older sisters has friends who are in the same boat as you and she’s 22. if you want my initial suggestion, i think it’d be a good idea to focus on why you’re so scared of intimacy and love before you focus on who you’re attracted to. because once you’re actively trying to cope with those feelings of doubt and insecurity, you’ll be able to put yourself out there a little more, which may result in the answers you’ve been looking for.  the natural progression of your life may offer a lot of solutions. taking care of yourself and your own mental health must come before love, or looking for it, even though thats way easier said than done…..but remember, there’s no incorrect self. try to block out the world and what it’s telling you you should feel, and go off of whats in your heart. if it’s still just unclear, that’s alright. it just means you’re not ready yet, and there’s truly no rush. anyway, i think your anxiety and the critical way in which you view yourself is stopping you from being able to explore the idea of dating all together. you think everyone sees you the way you see yourself, so you think you must be some unlovable thing….but that’s not true at all. sometimes our minds spin us these false narratives when we’ve been hurt in the past, or when we’re dealing with unacknowledged mental/emotional issues…..your brain is bullying you, and you cant trust everything it tells you. no matter how true it seems. i really believe if you work on getting along with yourself, even if it feels completely ridiculous and fake at first, then the rest will follow. do you think it’s possible that you could talk to a professional about this? (after this pandemic, of course.) it can be anyone, maybe your doctor could refer you to a therapist, or if there’s a counseling service in your area? or a support group for ppl who are struggling? i have a very limited perspective of you, but to me it looks like your low self esteem/ your low self confidence is what’s igniting all of this. you’re scared of people so you can’t even begin to imagine who you’d enjoy spending your life with. but you CAN get help for that. you CAN talk about it and learn how to come to terms with it. you have to believe thats true for you. i get that it’s an extremely daunting idea, and you don’t have to do anything right now. but please keep that thought in the back of your mind no matter how much you want to push it away. you are not alone, and you don’t have to carry the weight of this as if you are. there’s also a lot of info online, lgbt forums/forums of people dealing w self hatred that may be of some comfort, and of course there’s always the option of calling a hotline if you want further advice. you see, you’re not trapped. and you don’t have to have this all worked out any time soon. but if you start making small and healthy changes to the way you treat yourself, then i think that’d be a really great step in the right direction. and more and more growth will spring from it. even if it just looks like complimenting yourself in the mirror, or repeating self affirmations or journaling and giving a voice to your feelings. these techniques aren’t supposed to solve everything, they’re just supposed to help. anyway, i can really really relate to what you’re dealing with, like i literally….i know im bi, but i cant imagine ever letting anyone touch me ever again. i’d just feel bad for them having to look at my face, having to be around me….that’s not healthy though, and i know that if i want connection THAT badly, i’m going to have to work on letting go of those unhealthy mindsets to some extent. even if it takes months, or years. but lets do it together, ok? one day at a time, working with whats in our control. if you need a friend or someone to talk to, dont hesitate to hmu. and i apologize for how long it took me to reply. im sending a lot of love, i hope you and your family are safe/healthy rn 💖

[transrightsjimin]

how are people just openly nonbinary on a more public website like instagram? i want to make and post more illustrations w trans people in it nd vent in my drawings and such but my aunts nd cousins still follow me there bc fb and ig are connected and i want them unable to see my stuff. but i once had tht i unfriended my aunt nd she bugged me adding her on fb again, nd one of my cousines and her mom apparently know im nonbinary, maybe bc they recognized a nonbinary flag i once used, idk, but they talked abt it together and know now and theyre fine w it and promised not to tell but the rest of my family cannot keep secrets at all. when i still thought i was pan, my mom outted me to my brother by a hypothetical question to him to sort of prove her woke point after he assumed abt me having a bf (nd my mom didnt understand why i didnt want her to tell him that, despite the fact tht hes a dirty fascist nd violently homophobic). my family also questioned why i have hairy legs bc they feel very appalled and luzzled and ashamed for me bc of it, nd my mom explained abt my hormone inbalance in such a fucking weird way ('her body has an internal struggle with hormones' or smth??) tht prob made them believe im trans nd i told my mom she shouldve just said i dont shave but she was like 'oh but you know this is not ok, you need yo shave it, you know it'

just. HOW do ppl openly live as nonbinary bc i dont fucking know. idek what would change for me bc every person outside of close friends who ive told im nonbinary, including my parents, former therapists, and cis girls in the lolita community, just immediately forgot abt it and right after called me a girl nd think i like... know stuff abt gender but bc i still look too feminine for them to recognize me as someone who isnt a girl. they dont even have to change my pronouns or anything, i dont like the 'neutral' dutch pronouns ive read abt nd im fine w this, im not changing my name, they just have to stop calling me a girl but they dont. nd my family cant keep their fucking mouth shut nd i dont want my brother or likewise homophobic uncle to know this abt me, like hell my dad seemed more tolerant than them nd he already rejected me for a few months. some ppl are like 'just part w your family and never see them again!' but lol its not that fucking easy nd idk if id want to go that far, like ive heard of only 2 other black sheep in the extended family (my uncles siblings) bc they were traumatized nd couldnt bond w the rest.

[dumb-naive-bitch]

I'm kind of really glad that nobody reads this page of mine anymore, so then I can vent to myself about how I'm truly feeling at this moment, and put it into words without being judged or told to stop complaining.

I know 2020 has been rough for a lot of people, but its extra hard on us who thought every other year was rough to begin with. Im sick of waking up every day knowing I have to go through the same fucking motions over and over and feeling like my life is going nowhere and yet I'm just getting older, fatter, uglier, etc. Its depressing on top of my depression. It doesn't matter if you have a decent job in this day and age because you still won't be able to afford shit. You won't be able to live in a house or apartment by yourself unless you want to be mortgage/rent poor. Im going to school and I dont even fucking want to because what's the point? If you don't have a doctorate, you once again wont be able to afford shit even after you have a degree. Im over 70 thousand in student loan debt and I have absolutely nothing to show for it, with roughly 30 to 40 thousand more to go to get a basic degree that will probably increase my current pay by 5 dollars an hour maximum. How fucking exciting and motivating is that? Like what is the point of living if you can't afford to do anything or have anything despite working hard for years and years? I'm honestly so over this fucking mundane every day bullshit that has no purpose because why even bother staying alive to not be happy? I dont know what is more annoying then people saying "money can't buy you happiness" because I would slap the fuck out of that person right now. Money would keep me from wondering if I'm going to be able to pay my car payment, or the 10 credit cards I racked up because buying small things like clothes/shoes is one of the only things that makes me happy and gives me something to look forward to. Other than that, I have my dogs which I would die for, but honestly that causes me more stress and anxiety than I ever care to admit.

Its exhausting feeling trapped in a mind full of stress and worry and no light at the end of the tunnel because no circumstance in my life can ever change drastically enough to erase the despair that has become my reality. Ten plus years of major depressive disorder and anxiety with no relief because of once again not being able to afford the proper resources to get better, well that just sounds like a full circle, never-ending fuck of a life doesn't it? People out there who have it good just say shit like "start over," "find what you like to do," "get a different job," like how does any of that sound possible when you have no money to do any of those things? I'm so tired of everything being hard for me. Every fucking thing in my life is hard, yet other people get everything handed to them. Why? Do I want everything handed to me, fuck no. I rarely take help when offered because I'm not a charity case. I want my hard work to pay off, but you cannot get ahead in a society such as ours because everything costs so fucking much that you have to pick and choose between necessities. So basically, as a lower-middle class citizen its impossible for me to be happy and also live within my means, and in SC I make more than double minimum wage. How the hell to people who only make that afford to live? Or have anything nice? They will never be able to be independent, because affording housing for yourself with that salary is damn near impossible.

This short release of emotions I had planned in my head turned into a much longer bitchfest then I intended, but its just hard to go to bed every night knowing I'm still going to be me when I wake up. I truly cannot do it anymore. Im also so sick of worrying about how others will feel if I just die. They never say "I understand it must be hard for you to have to live like this every day, so I respect your decision because it is your life." Nope, they say shit like "just think how I would feel, or how so and so would feel if you were gone." Like why am I the selfish one in this situation? Because I don't want this life for myself? So fucking sorry your lives are so fucking great that you couldn't possibly see this through my eyes. No amount of telling someone how you feel is going to change how bad they truly want to hear it. Sick of trying to explain my feelings to people who don't really care to hear it, and definitely not understand it. Probably why I need a therapist. Oh wait, can't afford one so I will continue to suffer within my own thoughts and feelings.

They wonder why suicide is so fucking common among young people. Like do you see what we have to deal with? Besides the topics I mentioned previously, what about constantly seeing celebrities flash their endless shiny and fancy shit all over social media and the instgram models making you hate your fucking self for wanting to eat. Don't follow them? It doesn't matter if you do or don't because you will see it in ads or on one of your friend's pages anyway. You basically need to live off grid, grow your own food, live in a cabin in the woods without any form of media or form of entertainment whatsoever to rid that shit of your life. I also do not want that, so here I am yet again stuck again. Pitty me, pitty me hey? I dont have it that bad people will say. I have somewhere to live, a car, a job, blah blah blah. Like they know a single fuck about what races through my head all day every day. The stress, the feeling of failure, the feeling of not being good enough, the feeling of being trapped, the feeling of whats going on behind my back in my relationship, the feeling of why don't I have the motivation to do my school work, or finish the 5 projects I started, or go for a walk or run, or workout, or eat better, or want to do anything other than sit on my fucking couch and watch TV while my brain continues to race subcontiously, or why the fuck I cant just be happy? It's because not everyone is satisfied with the "simpler things in life." I want to be able to have options in my life. Like if I see something I want thats going to make me happy, I want to be able to buy it. I want to be able to go and travel to do it. I want to be able to relax and not have to worry if I buy or do that thing am I going to be able to pay my bills or buy food. Its debilitating for me. I am controlled by this disease that never lets my mind rest or be happy. Life is simply not worth living if it has to be this hard every day with no sign of a possibility to be better because of the circumstances I have been exposed to. You can't change certain things no matter what and those are things that im not willing to live with anymore. Im suffering and thats not what I want for myself. I want it gone, and for me I only have one option and I'm okay with it. I've been okay with it for over a decade now and that's never going to change. Period.

[lifesucksheres20bucks]

this is pretty random, out of nowehere but could you write a soulmate au of reddie in which people can see who their soulmate based on a red string tied on their ring finger and the end of the string is tied to your soulmate, richie and eddie forgot each other because of the trauma they had on their childhood so they both believed they have no soulmate because there is no sting on their fingers and then they saw each other on a random place and the sting appear, i made a fan art on this

@weirdwaffle made some incredible art to go with this fic so go check it out!

Richie has been in Los Angeles for the past 4 years going to UCLA, busting his ass in with his Major. He decided to pursue an acting career but his parents wanted him to go to university, so they made a compromise, he could do an acting major. He also picked up a minor along the way, he wanted to dabble in the art of writing. His goal was to be able to write his own jokes and perform them on a tv show. Not to toot his own horn but he was damn good at writing jokes and at performing them. About two years ago he started doing stand up at the local comedy bar and he completely fell in love with the gig. That brings us here, the summer after he graduated, top of his class, in the middle of New York City. He probably has the shittiest apartment in the city, but he’s proud of that, because it’s his shitty apartment. One that he paid with his own money, money with no strings attached, unlike his parents money. He had come here because he wanted to work on Saturday Night Live. He wanted to be a cast member so bad but he would take any job he could, hell he would become the janitor if he had too. SNL was his dream, it combined all of his passions, acting, writing, comedy and stupid voices. He was already on the right path to working on the show. He had sent in a self tape while he was back in LA and they told him they wanted to see him perform live. The second he got that phone call he decided to pack up all of his things and move to NYC. 

Eddie on the other hand, was kind of a hot mess. He just graduated from nursing school and was working shitty night shift at the New York Presbyterian Hospital, he only accepted the job because he had interned there and they offered him a permanent post. He told himself he wasn’t going to work there long, only a year or two just to get enough experience to get a better job. Working the nights shift were the worst, he mostly got drunks with stupid superficial injuries. The most exciting thing to happen in the emergency room in the last week was that someone accidentally set their pants on fire and had 1st degree burns on their ass. Although he complained a lot about his job, he wouldn’t change it for the world. He loved being a nurse, it made him feel important and strong. When he was younger, his mom made him believe he had serious health issues, he was scared of everything and it prevented him from being a worry free kid. He didn’t remember much of his childhood, his therapist said it was probably because he had blocked out all memories of his mom and that sadly included his childhood. He always felt like something was missing like a part of his soul had been ripped out, maybe that's why he didn't have a red string on his finger. 

Everyone has a soulmate. Every person is born with a red string attached on their ring finger and once they meet their soulmate those two would connect. That’s how you knew, pretty simple actually. However, Eddie didn’t have a string on his finger, he figured his soulmate must of died before they had a chance to meet. Thinking of that made him sad, it most likely meant he was going to die alone. 

Richie didn’t have a string either, not that he cared much, he wasn’t really one for soulmates. He preferred being the guy people hooked up with before settling down with their forever partner. It was quick and without any real commitment. Plus he had an array of people to choose from, both guys and girls liked to experiment before meeting their soulmates.

A month after his live audition, Richie got a call, it was from one of the producers of SNL telling him he was going to be apart of the featured cast. After the phone call ended he collapsed to the floor, it was the best day of his life. He suddenly felt the urge to tell someone what happened he took his phone a blankly stared at his contacts, he didn’t know who he wanted to call but the urge to do it felt so powerful, he thought he was going insane. 

“It’s just the adrenaline, you’re not insane” he told himself

Instead of dwelling on what just happened, he called his parents to tell them the good news.

The week before the first SNL show of the season, the cast were practicing skits non stop. He was there from 8am to way past midnight on most days. He was exhausted but he was only so happy to be actually doing this, his dream job. One night they were practicing a skit that involve someone breaking a vase on Richie’s head. Of course they used sugar glass but somehow the last take they tried had hurt a lot more than the ones before.

“OH shit dude you’re bleeding!” one of his cast members yelled

Panic settled in Richie’s stomach as blood dripped down the side of his face. He slowly touched his forehead and felt the deep cut on his temple. 

“Dude you have to go to the hospital, that looks really bad. Come with me, I'll take you to the emergency room” Richie mindlessly followed his colleague out of the Rockefeller centre. 

“Shouldn’t we call an ambulance, I don’t know if I can walk far like this”  

“Don’t worry, it’s just on the other side of the street, we’re nearly there”

Richie walked in the emergency room and sat down on a chair, feeling very lightheaded. His colleague talked to the nurse at the reception and she told him he could wait on a bed until a nurse came to look at him.

He sat there for what felt like forever until he felt something pull at his ring finger. He looked down thinking it was hallucination coming from the blood loss but there it was, clear as day, a red string tugging at his finger. 

Eddie was finishing up with a patient when he was called to look over another one. 

“You have a patient in bed 4, head injury, so you might need stitches”

Eddie groaned, he hated giving stitches, he hated the way the needle felt when it the in the skin. He suddenly felt nervous, thinking it was because of the stitches, he just brushed it off. 

As he started walking towards bed 4 and  he feels something pulling his at his hand. He quickly looked down and saw a red string. He starts to panic, this wasn't supposed to happen, he doesn't have a soulmate. He starts to turn away, he can't do this, not now, he's not ready. He feels a full on panic attack coming on and he tries to walk away but the string is keeping him there. 

“Hey could you stop pulling, you’re starting to hurt my finger”

Eddie’s head shoots up, that voice, he knows that voice. A sense of comfort and warmth washes over him and he slowly starts walking toward the noise. He pulls back the curtain at bed 4 gasps.

“Richie…” , Eddie breathes out, he doesn’t know how he knows the guys name but he just does.

“Hiya Eds”, that nickname escapes Richie lips like it was something he was dying to say all his life.

Suddenly everything hits Eddie like truck. Derry, the quarry, all of the summer nights spent with the losers club laughing but the most important thing that came back to him was Richie. The way that Richie made him feel, how could he have forgotten a love that powerful. He can see in the way Richie’s face squints, that’s memories are coming back for him too. 

“Eddie, how could I have forgotten you”

“I don’t know Richie, none of this makes sense” 

“It’s Derry, that shit hole made us forget each other. We didn't have strings because we had already met when we were children.” 

Eddie suddenly remembers Richie injury and touches Richie’s face. He feels this feeling inside of him that he's never felt before, it’s like he’s breathing for the first time in his life. 

“I, uhm, I need to, hm, stitch you up, okay ‘chee?” Eddie didn’t know where that nickname came from but it felt right.

“ yeah hmm, Now, pip-pip and tally-ho, my good fellow, go ahead and patch me up Dr.K” Richie said in a terrible British accent

“Oh my god, I can't believe you still do those awful accents”

“ Yeah well, I get paid to do them now”

“What did you like start working at SNL or something, like you dreamed of doing as a kid” Eddie says laughing

“Actually yeah, that’s how I got my injury. We were practicing a skit and someone used real glass instead of sugar glass. A real great first week”

“ Wow that’s incredible...I think we have a lot of catching up to do. I'm all done by the way.” Eddie said as he took his hand away from Richie’s cheek

Richie grabbed Eddie’s hand and squeezed it softly.

In that moment they knew that everything was going to be okay. 

*SORRY THE ENDING SUCKED AGAIN I CANT FINISH STORIES FOR SHIT OKAY THANKS BYE*

**i also researched way too much for this fic lol**