#i cant think or write after all of this

[dhs-in-distress]

*looks at your reblog* 👀 Oh? Tell me more

(Omg I only found this accidentally cause I‘m new to having 2 blogs I‘m so sorry that I‘m only answering now, I swear I didn‘t even know this ask existed until now, but I‘m so happy you‘re interested ok aNYWAY-)

So that post I reblogged reminded me of a scene I wanted to write into that one TFA OC fanfiction I never finished so I’ll just talk about that (with a bit of context for comprehension‘s sake, but hopefully not too much cause all of the context would be like 50 pages)

(Oh also this is specifically about Scatterbrain/Scatters/SB/the one guy who‘s been infesting my brain like a parasite for the past 1.5 years)

So like basically Scatters has two main problems.

1: a dead boyfriend who got killed by the Cybertronian equivalent of the police, and

2: a „past“ in the stockades, where he got put after attacking the guy who killed his boyfriend, and which made him develop an extreme fear of getting things plugged into his medical port (and medical equipment in general) as a result of things they did there.

… Needless to say these two elements don‘t mix very well, both with each other as well as with just, being a functional person in general. If you add his other other problem with vulnerability and admitting to his fears and faults and distress, everything just goes to shit.

If you now put him in a situation where he has to be medically treated (by Ratchet btw, that info becomes important later) as a result of severe „bleeding“, and subsequently also get an oil/energon transfusion via the port, you get that post I reblogged, with some extras too! So I’ll just go into detail under the cut about how that’d play out, it’s kinda long and cringe and only makes sense to me and I‘m probably also the only one who gets this emotional about it cause this guy‘s entire psyche is like, in my brain. Anyway- proceed at your own risk :))

At first he‘d start being more and more aggressive, refusing to open his port at all and saying that he „doesn‘t need“ the transfusion, then going over to yelling about how he „doesn‘t need to do anything you tell me to actually“ when he starts to run out of arguments to cover up the fact he‘s just very afraid of all of this. This would however only result in aggravating Ratchet, ending in him getting Bulkhead to physically restrain Scatters to finally force open his port and get the transfusion going already, because he really does need it. And yeah… the physical restraint coupled with the forceful intrusion doesn’t help at all with differentiating this experience from the stockades. Having already been out of it due to his low energy levels, now with the added reminder of these other two factors, Scatters starts hysterically crying and begging to „make it stop“ and just fully reliving his imprisonment at this point. Obviously Bulkhead doesn’t have any idea what‘s going on, and while Ratchet can make an educated guess (from experience cough cough), that doesn‘t help much with figuring out how to make him stop having an episode.

(I feel the need to mention here that I believe in the popular(?) theory(?) that the bots have next to no idea what mental health/illness even is, let alone how to treat it when it gets bad)

Anyway, they just try to get all the fuel levels into a normal range as quickly as possible, after which everything is removed from Scatters immediately. This does get him to stop begging and screaming, but he‘s still crying, shaking violently and very obviously not all there yet. Bulkhead gets him off of the operating table they‘d had him on, and half pushes half carries him out of the medbay and just, outside, in an effort to get him to calm down somehow. I‘d imagine he‘d also be very overwhelmed in that moment and would like to get someone out there with him to help, but since he‘s the only one in team prime Scatters „tolerates“, doing that would probably just make things worse, so he endures. Scatters then starts clinging to Bulkhead‘s arm when he tries to pull away, mumbling both to and about his dead lover until he eventually becomes fully aware of his surroundings again, pulls away and stares at Bulkhead for a solid minute before saying the classic „if you tell anyone about this I will make you swallow your own wrecking ball istg“ and running away to have the rest of his „moment“ somewhere else alone.

So yeah the post I reblogged just reminded me of the medical torture flashback thing, because calling out for help at all, let alone screaming, begging, crying… physical touch that isn’t violent… opening up like that in general, aren‘t really things that Scatters does. He‘s the „I hate every form of intimacy and emotional honesty and would literally rather perish than let anyone know how I feel, why I feel that way or let them help me with my troubles. Fuck you, die.“ kind of person.

I hate him he‘s so terrible he‘s suffering he‘s so unwell someone get this bitch a therapist please someone kill him actually it‘s fine he gets better by the end of everything hahahhaahaaaa.

(I just accidentally deleted the entire paragraph about how his obsession with and unhealthy idolising of his dead lover are like,, core parts of his character and how everything links back to that and how his entire arc is about learning to accept that guy‘s death and how to be his own person again and not tying every action to „what would he want? What would he have done?“ and letting go and not acting like his life is completely over whenever he gets reminded of everyone‘s mortality and letting himself love other people and not feeling guilty about it and and and and- basically I‘m pissed I deleted that and can‘t get it back and that THIS is the only substitute I can come up with. Kill me.)

(Oh also there‘s smth about letting himself feel other things again cause like hate and longing are pretty much the only things he‘s felt for like 1 million years so yh I really shouldn‘t have named him Scatterbrain of all things huh cause the one thing he is is singleminded (and unable to let go of one thing/person). Oh well.)

Ok this was all really really long and unnecessary I hope your brain isn‘t melting out of your ears. I certainlydid tell you more though haha…´:]

[bunnieswithknives]

Thanks.

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[lemongogo]

they should get to kill each other at least twice .i think

[eikichi-supremacy]

If nothing else Koenma is a Kuwabara stan and I'm right there with him o7 (I need to write the kuwameshi fic that goes with this fr)

[coolnonsenseworld]

A little promo with my little obsession on the side...........

Reminder all items are shipped from Poland - for details on shipping times check out FAQ or send me a private message!

 mmezzy.bigcartel.com

[luck-of-the-drawings]

my TWO FAVORITE THINGS IN THE WORLD, VAMPIRES N COWBOYS... deacon keller is SUCH a fun character, hes charming and funny but ALSO formidable and STRONG when he feels he needsta be. i hope him and arthur can get a chance to talk more and be better friends. l ike really good friend s. . like. like really good f. hangon i gotta go i think i hauve rabies.

[medicinelarrie]

This still doesn't seem real.

[screechingfromthevoid]

I think the kids are waiting at the sun tree. They've never really done that before. Sleeping by the sun tree. But as they watched their parents and their friends disappear, with fear in their eyes, it was a day full of firsts.

Wolfe ends up running off in a sort of fit. Leona runs after him. They both feel more at home in the woods. They probably went there to calm down. Vesper, as the oldest, decided she needed to get some things in order. Just in case.

And Gwen was going to leave, sneak into her father's office, past all his traps and rigging, until she notices Vax just standing there. Staring at the seams in the bark that aren't really there. She watched him collapse, sitting crisscross on the roots.

So she stayed. She sat next to her big brother, close and leaning on him. Though, she wasn't there looking for support. She had watched his cocky, teenage attitude melt away into a panic. Vax'ildan was panicking.

"They'll be okay," she told him. "They're the heros of the realm. They'll save uncle Vax and the world and come home." She sounded so sure. He had to believe she was right.

They stay there though. For hours. It might have been the most time the pair ever spent with each other. The sun starts wane and their home turns golden and their parents aren't back yet.

Leona and Wolfe come back, their faces red and a little dirty. They hadn't even taken their leathers off. Like they were going home when they saw their siblings still waiting. They flank their siblings, Leona wrapping an arm around Vax's shoulder and Wolfe taking Gwen's hand. Also contented to wait.

The sky is purple by the time Vesper came with blankets, pillows, and large boxes from The Slayer's Cakes. She had all of her siblings favorites picked out. Trinket 's bear claws for Leona. Sun treats for Gwendolyn. Trayon's Blondies for Vax. Keyleth 's almond bark for Wolfe. And her own personal favorite Everlight-as-Air Scones. She brought enough to count as dinner. She wasn't their head of household. She was their big sister. She didn't need to make sure they ate well or went to bed on time. That wasn't her job. Not yet.

The stars were out that night for them, granting them the family time that they desperately needed. They laughed and stole each other's pastries. They danced around any subject related to parents or their aunts and uncles away. Hunting and tinkering and spying were all fair game. The twins fought, Vax'ildan rolled his eyes and they got him to smile. Gwen listened carefully. Vesper counted the hours since their parents left.

She thought the sun might rise and they'd never see them again. She thought they would have to gather their things in the morning sun and start their new lives emerging from the roots on the sun trees. She thought-

The bark of the sun tree cracked and groaned as it split. All of the De Rolo children held their breaths. Aunt Pike, Uncle Scanlan (in centaur form?), the ashari man, Uncle Grog, a very beautiful and very scary elf woman.

Then father. Then mother hanging on the arm of a strange man they recognized immediately.

[ghostofsnails]

so did you guys know theres this character called tristan vik disventure camp and

[youssefguedira]

I wish you would write a fic about irreconcilable artistic differences on a movie set between Joe and Nicky.

not really irreconciliable as in not solvable at all but you know i had fun with this

Joe squeezes his eyes shut, covering his face with both hands, and leans forward. His shoulders tremble uncontrollably. He takes a short, sharp breath, and another, and another, but he can’t quite seem to get enough into his lungs. There’s a lump in his throat and a weight in his stomach. He leans forward with a low, wounded sound and–

“Cut,” Nicky says softly. Then, because it takes Joe a second to hear him: “Joe, stop.”

Slowly, Joe raises his head. Wipes at his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to steady himself. Nicky’s already up, frowning ever so slightly as he looks at the camera. 

“What is it this time?” Joe manages. His voice is hoarse; he has to clear his throat once or twice. Nicky doesn’t look up. The clock on the nightstand reads 01.34, but Nicky’s changed it a few times over the course of the shoot. He has no clue what time it really is, only that it’s dark outside.

It’s just the two of them in the room. Nicky had wanted to keep this one small, just him and Joe and the camera. The apartment they’re in is nice, if a little empty, though Joe supposes that’s the point. They’re in the bedroom, Joe sitting cross-legged on the bed, shirtless, sheets bunched up over his lap, a phone lying on the nightstand behind him. One entire wall of the room is taken up by a floor-to-ceiling window which lets the moonlight in, though there’s a few low lights set up behind Nicky to send bars of silver light across the bed, because the natural light hadn’t quite been strong enough for the effect Nicky wanted. It’s otherworldly; it’s beautiful. 

Nicky still isn’t looking at him, so Joe says again, “What?” It comes out a little harsher than he means it to, but it gets Nicky’s attention.

Nicky runs one hand through his hair. Joe can’t see him well, not with the light behind him and the shadows in the room. “I don’t know,” Nicky says. “It’s missing something.”

Joe has worked with Nicky enough times before. It’s not that he doesn’t like working with him - they’re friends - but he can’t fucking read him, and so after the sixth take of the same scene he can’t help but take it a little personally. 

Joe reaches for the bottle of water hidden just under the bed and takes a long drink, mostly to keep himself from snapping. What time is it? “I can try again, but I can’t do this indefinitely, Nicky.”

“I know, I know,” Nicky says, fidgeting again with the camera, “it’s not you, it’s just��” 

“What else could it be?” Joe interrupts. He’s not stupid. This scene doesn’t work if he can’t get it right, which means the entire film doesn’t work if he can’t get it right. More than anything else, this one depends on him. No music, no camera movement, no dialogue, nothing but him and the camera. And he wants to do it right, he loves this project almost as much as Nicky does, but there’s a hollow feeling in his chest and he’s spent the last however-many-hours having a near-complete breakdown over and over again and it’s still not right. And Joe doesn’t know what it is he’s doing wrong.

“I don’t know,” Nicky says quietly. Now he is looking at Joe, and Joe can’t tell if he’s disappointed, or angry, or – or what. He’s perfectly expressionless, as always. 

Joe loves this job. And he wants to get this right. But it doesn’t mean it’s not one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, and he’s tired.

“I don’t have much more left in me, Nicky,” he says, and this time he does snap. He wipes at his eyes again, can’t look at Nicky. He’s supposed to be making himself vulnerable, above all in this scene, but suddenly he can’t stand the way Nicky’s looking at him. “Pass me my hoodie.”

“Joe–”

“I can’t. I can’t keep doing this.” He kicks the sheets off and gets tangled trying to do it, grabs his hoodie when Nicky offers it, pulls it over his head in one fluid motion and gets out of there as soon as he can. Thankfully, there’s only Andy and Nile in the other room, Andy lying back on the couch with her feet up and Nile perched on the arm of it. They both look up at Joe as he enters, both look like they’re about to ask, and Joe can’t stand it, can’t be in here a second longer, can’t–

“We are done for the day, I think,” Nicky says behind him, startling Joe. He hadn’t realised Nicky was there.

Andy raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t argue. It’s already the second day of trying to shoot this scene: they’re running the risk of falling behind schedule. 

“We’ll find something else to do tomorrow,” Nicky says. “I’ll look over everything tonight. We will try this again on Monday.”

Andy and Nile look at each other. Nile shrugs. 

“Get some rest, Joe,” Nicky says. 

Joe shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t say a word.

–--------------------------------

He doesn’t get called in the next day at all, and he doesn’t interrogate it too closely. Takes the day off, pretty much, because they’ve only really got one scene left to film, and there’s not much more he can do for that. Nicky had wanted to leave it to the last, and Joe had agreed, at the time.

At about nine pm, someone knocks on his hotel room door, which is unusual on a day where they don’t have a night shoot to do. When he opens it, Nicky is on the other side. Joe lets him in without a word. 

“I wanted to apologise,” Nicky says, standing in the middle of the room and looking as uncomfortable as Joe’s ever seen him. “For last night. I was pushing you too hard, and I should not have done.”

Joe closes the door behind him. Nicky fidgets with the sleeve of his hoodie. 

“Sit down,” Joe says. 

Nicky does, settling himself on the edge of Joe’s bed, not quite looking him in the eye. Joe joins him, after a moment. 

“At the risk of sounding cliche,” Nicky says, “it’s not you, it’s me.”

Joe laughs, mostly because the phrase sounds so strange coming from Nicky and also because out of everything he’d thought Nicky might say, he hadn’t expected that. 

Nicky smiles slightly, too. Then he gets up and heads for the minibar. “Mind if I have a drink?”

Joe shakes his head. Nicky gets out a little bottle of wine, glances at the label, and takes a swig straight from the bottle without bothering to get a glass. 

“I can’t seem to get it right,” Nicky says. “You know I wrote almost fifteen different versions of that scene?”

The scene in the script itself is barely a page long. “No,” Joe says. 

Nicky nods. Rubs a hand over his face. “I wanted it to feel real. I thought if I could get it right, it would… help, somehow. I don’t know.”

It’s the exact same reason Joe said yes before he even read the script, when the whole thing was just an idea in Nicky’s head, when they were talking about it over drinks at Andy’s and Joe was in love with the idea almost immediately. He knew exactly why Nicky was writing it; he knows, now, exactly why it needs to be right. But at the same time – “I don’t know if that’s possible, Nicky.”

Nicky sighs. “I know.” He crosses back over to sit beside Joe again, takes another drink from the bottle. “But there is something missing, and I cannot seem to find it. And so it does not feel real. And I know this is not easy for you.”

“It’s not,” Joe says plainly. 

“But you know,” Nicky continues, “I could not have trusted anyone with this but you. If you had not said yes, I would not have done this.”

That, Joe didn’t know: he knows he’d been Nicky’s first choice, but he’d assumed that’s because they know each other well enough already. But it makes sense: the reason Nicky wrote the script is the same thing they’d bonded over. 

Even still, it’s a lot. “I don’t know if I can do it the way you want,” Joe says. 

Nicky looks up at him from where he’s been running his fingers over the label on the bottle absentmindedly. “If you want to stop, I can–”

“No,” Joe says quickly. “But I don’t think it’s ever going to be exactly the way you felt.”

Nicky looks away. “It is a lot to ask,” he says. “I know this.”

Joe doesn’t think; just reaches over and takes Nicky’s hand. “I know,” he says. “Trust me.”

Nicky takes a deep breath. Then he nods. "Okay."

[thetorturedlovergirl]

Au where in “The Woman Who Fell To Earth” instead of falling in Sheffield, 13 accidentally lands in front of an Echo of Clara.

[paradoxbeta]

[rowanisawriter]

daily im on this website fighting for my life

[hickeygender]

of all the star wars movies, which of them do y'all 1) enjoy the most 2) consider the best quality and 3) think you've rewatched the most. add your answers in the reblogs or replies, i'm genuinely curious how much of an overlap there is within everyone's three answers. mine don't overlap at all! they're revenge of the sith, empire strikes back, and the force awakens :^)

[pokemon1oadvanced]

Ben feeding Speckles

[prettyboykatsuki]

i enjoy writing fic from the bottom of my heart and i also get so much love from people that im very grateful for and feel very blessed by. but man writing takes so long and is . so difficult with is received sometimes with what feels like so much entitlement. it is just weirdly exhausting randomly.