#i’m severely sleep deprived so i’m acting up

[bastard-loki]

fukcign HE!!!!

[theemporium]

Cece babyy...can I request a violent purple drink(gonna pause right here to say you're just sooo talented and creative!!!) with Carlos and butterfly when she tells him she's pregnant?🥲🥲🥲 With "You just have this glow about you." And maybe if it fits"Your body feels like home to me." ?? Thank youuuuu

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

42. “You just have this glow about you.” 

series masterlist

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You had been racking your brain to find the perfect moment to tell him.

You didn’t like keeping secrets from Carlos, quite the opposite if you were honest. Your relationship with Carlos brought a lot of realisations and firsts for you, including such open and honest communication. It was something that was severely lacking in your previous relationships, familial and platonic and romantic. 

But with Carlos, it was different. 

You never went to bed angry with each other, always determined to talk it out and get your feelings out on the table even if you needed a few hours apart. You wore your heart on your sleeve and he returned the gesture, never hiding his emotions from you. And you never kept secrets. Not because it was some rule between you but because you and Carlos genuinely didn’t keep anything from each other.

And now you felt like you were holding the biggest secret from him and you felt like your whole body was going to explode. 

You had taken the test on a whim, frowning when you looked at the calendar and realised you were a few days late. It was nothing too concerning, you were used to your cycle being a bit off with the constant travelling and stress of work. You don’t even know what pushed you to take the test, just a random gut feeling that you ultimately thought would lead to nothing. 

Until you found yourself staring at a positive test, alone in the bathroom with Carlos hundreds of miles away in Maranello for some team meetings. 

You had a few days to work out how to tell him, to figure out some sort of plan and speech to give when you told him you were pregnant. But all of it went flying out the window when he arrived last night, cowardice taking over as you kept your mouth shut and tried to act like everything was completely normal. 

“Did you change something?” 

You blinked, lifting your head from the screen you had been helplessly staring at for the last fifteen minutes to look at Carlos by the stove. “Hm? What? No. I’m the same as I’ve always been.”

“No?” Carlos hummed as he turned to look at you over his shoulder, smiling knowingly. “You just have this glow about you. It suits you.” 

“Glow? Pfft,” you waved him off, feeling your stomach churn a little. “I think the sleep deprivation is getting to you. Maybe you should take a nap after breakfast.” 

“Really? Maybe I’m affected by pregnancy hormones too,” he commented casually.

“That’s not how—” You paused, his words hitting you properly for the first time and your lips parting in surprise. “You know?!” 

Carlos could only laugh as he turned off the stove, rounding the counter so he could settle between your legs and cup your face in his hands. “I saw the test last night. You didn’t hide it very well, amor,” he mused, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. 

“And,” you swallowed, your hands resting on his chest. “How do you feel about it?” 

“I will support you in whatever path you want to choose,” Carlos whispered with a sweet smile. “You are my first priority, always. And I will back you up no matter what.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, your tears welling up because even after so many years, you couldn’t quite grasp how you got so lucky with him.

“Yes, mi mariposa,” he murmured with a grin, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips. “It’s you and me before anything else.”

.

[lillikitty]

Can I request a scenario with Chuuya in which the Reader acts very irritated and childish when she's sleep-deprived (who is a member of the Port Mafia)? Like they both have feelings for each other, but they haven't confessed yet 😔 (skill issue)

This is a fun idea! I hope I do your request justice! I did this right as I woke up so apologies if it’s not the best.

Chuuya x Sleep Deprived! Reader

The port mafia is not a place for the weak. Most can go several nights without sleeping and still be at their best. However, that doesn’t mean that lack of sleep can’t get to the best of them. Everyone needs sleep after all.

But you don’t believe that. You’ll sleep when you pass out and so far, you haven’t passed out. You got sent on a late night mission 3 nights in a row. You haven’t slept for 3 days and it’s starting to sink in on your brain. Thinking you might be able to finally get a night off, an emergency happened at one of the mafia’s weapon facilities that had you staying up for another night.

You and Chuuya got sent to the facility to wait and see if the culprit who’s sabotaging the transfer of these weapons comes back. You were dragging your feet as your eyelids felt heavy but you knew you had to stay awake. “Chuuyaaaaa, do we have to?” You whine, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between you two.

“Yeah, we do. The boss said so. So stop whining.” He scoffed a bit as he looked at you. You grumbled at him, “Well sorry if I don’t wanna do some stupid mission.” Chuuya is a bit taken aback as you aren’t one to usually call any mission stupid. He looks at you and takes in your demeanor. “Are you tired?” He asks. “Psh, no. I’m not tired, you’re tired.” You say as you stick your tongue out at him. A small smile forms on Chuuya’s face before he chuckles. “I think you are tired. You should’ve said-“ Chuuya was cut off by you tripping him. He caught himself before his face hit the ground and he looked up at you. “See? You’re the tired one.” You hum as you keep walking.

Chuuya picked himself up and followed after you. “Y/n, when was the last time you slept?” He asks with a bit of worry in his voice. “I dunno, 3 or 4 days ago or somethin’.” You’re words have been coming out a bit slurred and Chuuya is probably the only one who’d notice. He frowns a bit at that as this mission is supposed to last all night. It’s a stake out to make sure whoever was at the facility doesn’t come back.

Once you and Chuuya get to your position to watch the facility for the night he looks over at you and watches as you sway a bit, your eyelids fighting the urge to close. He sighs as he takes off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders before pulling you into his side. “Hey! What’re you-“ You start to protest but Chuuya shushes you. “Just shut up and get some sleep. I’ll wake you if something happens.” He says as he looks away to hide the blush that’s rising to his cheeks. “Nuh uh! I told you I’m not tired!” You protest vocally but your body curls up next to Chuuya’s as your head rests on his shoulder. “I don’t need to sleep.. I’m fine..” A yawn is followed shortly after your protest and your heavy eyelids finally win their battle and close, you were out in seconds.

Chuuya sighs as he looks down at you. He’s never seen you act like this before but he found it rather cute. He brushes some of your hair out of your face as he just holds you close to him. He has no intentions of actually waking you up. He’s just gonna let you sleep as long as you need to.

Nothing happened that night at the facility. Once it was dawn, Chuuya called up Mori to let him know that nothing happened but you and him were taking the rest of the day off. Mori understood and let you both have the day for yourselves. Chuuya ended up carrying you back to his place as you were still out cold. While sleeping, he found you quite peaceful. It was very different from how daring and crazy you were on the battlefield. He unlocked the door to his place and carried you to his room. He laid you down on his bed and was about to take his jacket from you when you grabbed the jacket in your sleep and held it. The blush he had before came flooding back and he just let you be and went to the living room to just relax for the day.

Around 2 PM your eyelids finally fluttered open. You yawned and sat up as you stretched your body out. When you finally took in your surroundings you realized you weren’t in your room, then remembered the stake out mission you panicked. “Oh shit- What happened?” You quickly got up and ran out of the room to only pause when you smelt some food. You peaked around the corner and saw Chuuya cooking. He glanced over his shoulder then smiled. “Good morning sleeping beauty.” He says with a smirk.

“What happened last night? The mission, was everything okay?” You choose to ignore his comment even if it did make you blush a little. “It was fine. Nothing happened. This morning I told Mori to let us have the day off so you could sleep, for 14 hours.” Chuuya chuckled. You went wide eyed. “14 hours? Why didn’t you wake me?” “Because you needed sleep. Now sit down and eat.” Chuuya set a plate of food on the table and pulled out the seat for you to sit down. You sighed and took a seat and looked at the food. You didn’t even realize you were hungry until you started eating, and damn was it some good food.

Once you had your fill you looked at Chuuya who had been eating as well. “Thank you..” You mumbled. “For letting me sleep.” You finished a bit louder that before. Chuuya looked at you and smiled, “Hang out with me more when you’re sleep deprived. You’re funny.” He chuckles. Your face reddens as you can’t quite remember what you said or did and you worry you did something embarrassing. “Oh shut up! I think you just want to be my knight in shining armor again.” You tease, hoping to get him back. Chuuya then grabs your hand and gives it a gentle kiss, “I always will be, and next time I’ll wake sleeping beauty with a kiss.” He teases back. You’re face gets and even darker shade of red as you weren’t prepared for that. However a small smile forms on your lips as you wouldn’t mind being woken up by a kiss from him.

[asian-hero]

Welcome Home; I'm Home

Alhaitham/Reader

Being in a relationship is hard. It requires constant work and sharing vulnerabilities you never thought you'd indulge in. Both parties need to constantly choose one another, despite their flaws. It's a good thing that you choose Alhaitham, even when his blunt nature rears its ugly head.

a/n: have a lil alhaitham hurt/comfort, as a treat :)

wc: 1.4k

The silence that filled your home was deafening. 

Though, you supposed that anything would be quieter compared to the explosive argument that broke out between you and Alhaitham.

It started out as an ordinary conversation. You’d been telling Alhaitham about your plans for your day off; all the while you fluttered around the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the both of you. He hadn’t been contributing much to the conversation, but you didn’t think much of it. You weren’t sure exactly what it was that caused him to snap, but as soon as he’d let out a long sigh, you knew something was wrong.

Pausing your ramblings, you turned away from the coffee you were brewing, tilting your head to the side. “Habibi? Are you okay?”

Soft mutterings were the only thing that you could hear, almost as if his sleep-deprived consciousness were attempting to filter his thoughts even after they left his lips. Frowning, you moved closer, gently brushing the silver bangs away from his face. “What was that?”

“Too loud,” He spoke up, an irritated scowl appearing as he swatted away your hand, “Would it be so terrible to have some peace and quiet for once?”

You blinked, letting your hands fall to your sides as you dealt with the sudden surprise. Leveling an unimpressed look at the man before you, you crossed your arms across your chest. “Don’t take that tone with me, Alhaitham.”

Alhaitham mirrored your attitude, leaning back in his chair, “Don’t treat me like a child. I already have to deal with dozens of people droning on about things I don’t care about at the Akademiya, I don’t need to hear about it in my own home.”

Running your tongue against the front of your teeth in annoyance, you spoke up. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t know that it was so terrible to want to talk to my lover before they leave for work,”

“Picking a fight first thing in the morning?” He questioned, rolling his eyes as he got up from his spot, “Very mature of you, Habibti.”

“I’m picking a fight?” You exclaimed, feeling your voice grow louder as you followed him into your shared bedroom, “You decided to have an attitude with me this morning and suddenly I’m the one who’s picking a fight? Maybe if you were a ‘mature’ enough adult to just say what your problem is I wouldn’t be bothering you!”

Turning sharply, he pointed a finger at you. “You are the problem. I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want to talk, but you just kept going. Do you think I care about what fruits you’re going to pick up at the market? Or how you’ll organize the library?”

You watched in silence as Alhaitham grabbed a seemingly random book from the pile on his nightstand before heading out of the shared space and to the front door.

“You know what? I hope you have back-to-back meetings and no time to read that stupid book of yours!” You yelled out, only to be met with the harsh sound of the front door slamming.

That was several hours ago.

Deciding that you wouldn’t let Alhaitham’s outburst ruin your day, you continued with the rest of your day. In the time after your fight, you had gone to the bazaar to grab some staples and some fresh cherries that caught your eye, had a wonderful lunch by yourself, and you had managed to clean a bit around the house. Since the menial tasks you’d set out to do didn’t completely calm you down, you’d also started rearranging Alhaitham’s library by color, knowing that he’d have to deal with the inefficient organizational system for the next few weeks before he’d inevitably fix it all himself. 

Once you’d finished your petty act of defiance, you found yourself curled up on one of the loveseats, casually flipping through your light novel as you felt the remnants of your earlier agitation fade. Just as you were turning the page, you heard the lock of the front door turning, the creaking of the door a familiar noise in all of the chaotic silence that surrounded you. 

Though, rather than feeling the rush of warmth and contentment fill your chest, you felt nothing but the bitter silence that continued to linger after your argument.

You refused to look up, opting to continue your reading, even when you heard hesitant footsteps drawing closer. Eventually, you felt the cushions beneath you dip, a warm presence at your side. Long fingers moved in your peripheral, hesitating slightly before settling by your waist, tugging lightly at your shirt. 

A silent question, allowing you the opportunity to pull away if you wanted.

Sighing, you closed your book, setting it down on the table in front of you before looking down at the hand grasping at the hem of your shirt. Slowly, you moved to tug his hand off, intertwining your fingers together. There were many things that you’d wanted to say; part of you, the uglier side, wanted to continue your argument, wanting nothing more than to make him feel as bad as you had earlier. After all, it was unfair of him to take his anger out on you.

However, the better part of you, the one who loved the man beside you dearly despite all his faults, despised the hesitance in Alhaitham’s posture, as if you’d leave for good if he weren’t careful enough. 

You wanted to let him know that though you were still hurt, he didn’t need to be scared. 

“Welcome home,” You said instead, running your thumb across his knuckles.

He stared at you momentarily, studying your expression in silent contemplation. In the end, he simply let out a wisp of a laugh, squeezing your hand. “I’m home.”

A tense silence filled the air, both of you wanting to start the conversation, but neither of you knowing how to. Eventually, you settled on the familiar. “You pissed me off today.”

If Alhaitham was shocked at your candidness, he didn’t show it, instead nodding solemnly as he listened. “I know. I’m sorry,”

“If I was annoying you, you should have just told me,”

“You weren’t annoying me,” When he noticed your furrowed brow, he sighed in annoyance, though you knew it was aimed at himself for not being able to express how he was feeling, “I started feeling overwhelmed. One moment I was waking up, and the next I felt my head pounding and my ears aching.”

Looking smaller than you’d seen him before, he looked away, quietly mumbling, “It was too loud.”

For a short while, it was silent between the two of you. Both of you sat still, with the exception of Alhaitham’s fingers twitching against your hand, a nervous tick you’d learned about during your first year of dating. 

Eventually, you huffed affectionately, moving your unoccupied hand to flick his forehead, instantly rubbing your thumb against the reddening skin to soothe it. “Next time just tell me how you’re feeling instead of acting like I can read your mind,” Squeezing his hand, you narrowed your eyes, “I won’t be as kind if you act like this again.”

He nodded his head again, untwining your hands in favor of leaning forward, letting his head come to rest on your chest. Pressing a gentle kiss to your heart, you felt his arms wrap around your waist. “I will. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

You returned his affections, your arms hugging his shoulders, pulling him closer. “I didn’t mean to make you overwhelmed,”

“I know.”

“I got cherries today,” You mumbled in his hair, feeling him hum against your skin in response, “I also rearranged your library by color.”

You felt him laugh, fingers coming to pinch the fat of your hips, “I suppose I deserved that,”

After that, the two of you fell silent, this time merely enjoying each other’s company. You ran your hands along his back soothingly, feeling for the first time today that you could finally breathe in your own home. Your chest felt light, and you could only imagine how the man before you was feeling.

After a short while, Alhaitham propped his head against your chest, peering at you with inquisitive eyes.

“Hm?” You questioned, brushing the bangs away from his face.

A few more seconds went by, the man in front of you deciding on whether or not he should interrupt the peaceful air surrounding the two of you. Eventually, he settled on a question.

“Are we okay?”

You pursed your lips, observing the way Alhaitham’s fingers danced across your back, another nervous tick. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, you smiled.

“We will be,”

i feel like i would have some of the most awful fights with this man, he should be lucky he's pretty and i happen to like pretty things/j

[moments-on-film]

Moments on Film: Carmy’s Vital Signs

One of the most fascinating things about The Bear is the full body acting from Jeremy Allen White. As with any performance, as an actor he makes many intentional choices, but there are several that I have noticed that are so in the moment and realistic, his body experiences them as his character. His actual vital signs—body temperature, pulse rate, breathing rate, blood pressure—are all a part of his character and are often visible onscreen, making it very hard to differentiate between the performer and the performance. He is so immersed in the character, you can’t help but worry about him and his health, both as a character and as an actor, to the point where his acting often feels dangerous. He surrenders himself and his body so fully, it is absolutely mesmerizing to watch. Below are several examples from season 1 and season 2.

Season 1:

Carmy and Sydney Meet

The scene where Carmy meets Sydney for the first time immediately struck me. Because of their undeniable chemistry, you very quickly get the sense that they just “get” each other. Sydney glides in and literally gives Carmy the breath of life he’s been missing. She wakes him up and reminds him who he is as much as who he could be. Carmy’s eyes show us everything in this scene and all that he’s been through leading up to this moment. It’s all there. The deep, deep sadness, grief, the exhaustion, how traumatized he is, beaten down, burnt out, sleep deprived, and desperately in need of help. He looks sick. When Sydney says, “I know who you are”, his face cocks to the side and his eyes lock into hers. He looks hypnotised by her. He says “oh yeah?”, but his eyes say, “No, I’ve forgotten. I’m exhausted and beaten down. Please help me remember. Let me be what you see.” And she does. Watch the scene again and listen to his breathy exhalation when she says “you’re the most excellent CDC…”It’s as if by being seen and understood by Sydney, the spell is broken and he can finally, actually breathe again. The relief of this moment, due to her belief in him and how she’s sees him is the first time we ever see him smile.

The Phone Call

This scene really made an impression the first time I saw it and it continues to. Carmy picks up the ringing phone and it’s a call from someone he doesn’t know named Nico. This person asks if Michael is around and in this moment Carmy goes through so many emotions. He is so caught off guard to be asked about Michael that he literally says, “Uh, uh, no. No, no. He’s not here this second.” If you watch closely, when he hears Michael’s name his pulse instantly elevates to the point where you can see the vein on the left side of his neck throbbing. As the scene goes on he starts to tense up and becomes weak and eventually has a panic attack that leaves him with a pounding heartbeat, so severe he has to sit down and then get out of there, as fast as possible. It’s an incredible moment of physical acting where the actors’s body is truly serving as a vessel for the character.

Fights with Richie

In this scene, Carmy is fighting with Richie over the C health code rating The Beef just received. Carmy believes it’s Richie’s fault since he left cigarettes by the burners, when in reality, it was Carmy’s fault. Carmy and Richie scream at each other and it gets physical. He’s so angry in this moment, his face slowly becomes completely flushed red, and his forehead stays pale. His pulse slams against his neck veins. I don’t know how many takes this scene took, but to achieve this level of body acting, even once, is incredible. The actor’s body doesn’t know that they are acting, it responds as if it’s a real moment they are experiencing.

In the scene above, Carmy and Richie are again fighting. This time, because Richie admits to selling drugs out of the back alley of The Beef and Carmy finds out. Is this what Carmy’s dad used to do at The Beef? Uncle Jimmy mentioned they last fought about drugs, among other things. The idea of selling drugs is so triggering for Carmy, it made me think there is a backstory here that has to do with his family. Carmy also finds out it was Michael’s idea to sell the drugs. This revelation both devastates and infuriates Carmy with such equal measure that he simultaneously looks like his going to burst into tears and completely explode. Look at the tears in his eyes. Look at the gripping tension he’s holding in his neck. You can just feel his heart rate rising as the scene progresses. It’s another incredible moment where this actor is literally giving his full body to service the story.

Sydney Quits

One of the worst moments in the series for Carmy is when Sydney quits. She’s calm, but she gets in his face with her final words. Given Carmy’s severe abandonment issues, and how much he needs Sydney and wants her there with him, this moment clearly devastated him. He practically doubles over. When Sydney walks out, so does his ability to breathe. He is struggling for air. His face, which normally becomes flushed and red in moments of extreme duress does something different here. He’s in such agony, his face completely drains of all color. He turns white as a sheet. This response, to me, signaled a different type of deep, deep emotional pain. How the actor was able to control his body to exhibit these internal emotions externally is remarkable.

Al-Anon Share

In acting, a performer always has to be thinking about their moment before—what were they just doing, what moment did they just come from, and how is that impacting them in this particular moment? When Carmen attends Al-Anon in the season 1 finale, he is coming from all the events that took place previously, including a traumatizing nightmare, which he awakens from violently and painfully. He’s regretting everything he did the day before, he’s hearing his brother’s voice, and he hasn’t slept well or rested, maybe in months, or years for that matter. Physically in this scene, it makes sense for him to look dishsheveled. He goes a step further though. In this scene, and often in the series, he literally looks like he’s running a fever. Once Carmy starts opening up, we see sides of him we have never seen before. One striking moment is when he’s sharing that Michael used to tell him “let it rip.” When he shares this, he almost seems a little embarrassed. In this moment of raw and open vulnerability, he blushes, and his face flushes, slowly. He then smiles, so sweetly. The fact that his character feels embarrassment and his actual face will flush, on command, as a performer, will never fail to astonish me. You can’t plan for your body to have that reaction. You can’t fake it either. He is living in all of Carmy’s moments with his own flesh and blood.

Sydney Comes Back

In the season finale, Carmy discovers the money his brother has left for him to pursue their shared dream of opening a restaurant together, The Bear. While Carmy and the team are opening the cans where Michael left the hidden money, Sydney appears. She again glides in and reminds him who he is and who he can be. But this time it’s different, this time she reminds him who she is too. Carmy then envisions what they could do—what they could be—together. Carmy has missed her so much, he regrets their last minutes together, but in this moment, all that fades away. He breathes, easily and deeply at the sight of her. Every cell in his body bends towards her. Carmy’s eyes invite her in to build the restaurant with him as much as his words do. His pupils actually dilate when he first sees her and looks into her eyes. Again, these are not physical acting choices that you can just plan or manipulate. Your body has to be going through these emotions for them to present themselves in the way that they do.

————————————————————————

Season 2

Season 2 of The Bear is different. To me, they have messed with the actor’s face in a way that has taken away a huge part of what makes him uniquely compelling. He lives in the moment, he acts with his whole being. He lets his eyes, body, and skin all tell the story. What they’ve done to his face this season is very noticeable to me. Carmy, as a character is stressed, exhausted and haggard. He doesn’t take care of himself and he’s not vain. It’s a huge disconnect to see him looking flawless in certain scenes, with no color showing through anywhere on his face, like he just had a facial. It doesn’t make sense for the character and it limits him and what he brings as an actor. His skin often looks like glass this season, and whatever fancy stuff they did to him took away his ability to have his emotions show through his skin at the level they did last season, which is a huge reason why the performance felt so visceral and real. They saw his emotive skin flushing and imperfections as a liability, when in fact, they are an incredible asset. He doesn’t look like anyone else, and it’s real and refreshing to see onscreen. I wish they didn’t take that away from him.

Despite what they did, he is such a good actor, he pushes through and can still physically convey the heart of what Carmy is feeling in each moment. Below are several moments that made a huge impression.

Scene with Claire

The first time I watched this scene I had to pause and watch again. Why does it feel so awkward? Among other things, it’s because Carmy is not breathing properly. Watch it again but this time only listen to his breathing. He is so distressed, talking about the fire suppression he can barely get enough air. You would think Claire’s presence would calm him down but she doesn’t. He can’t accept the moment. At times, he is subtly gulping air and his voice is shaky in a way that the scene doesn’t necessarily warrant. This was a huge indicator to me that something is wrong. It feels very off. He is so ill at ease and tense. Speaking of moments before, Carmy later reveals in this episode that the previous night he had a “gnarly panic attack.” So in this scene, he presumably had a very rough night and did not sleep well. He’s very worried about the test, waiting for the other shoe, and is self conscious about if what he’s saying is boring to Claire. All of these anxieties impact him and he’s having a lot of trouble stilling himself and calming down. We now know that Claire is not Carmy’s calm, or his peace, or his safe place—that’s Sydney. We don’t fully know that until the next episode. It’s as if the actor internalized that truth and is giving us a clue to it now. This is subtle, expert character work and an extremely difficult physical action to fake as an actor. He would have to be so keyed into the subconscious emotions of the character to let these nervous ticks run through his body. I’m telling you, watch the scene again and only listen to how much trouble he has breathing in certain moments. It’s not normal how tense he is here and an incredible foreshadowing into what we later learn he needs that actually soothes him and calms him down—Sydney.

Panic Attack in the Alley

In episode 9, cracks come to the surface, what’s done (literally) in the dark comes to the light, and Carmy is forced to physically deal with what he’s been suppressing emotionally. He experiences the worst panic attack we have ever seen him go through. He’s gotten so much worse and because of the incredible full body acting in this moment, it’s painful to watch. The conversation about this scene, rightly so, focuses on how Carmy thinks of Sydney to bring down his panic and breathe, but let’s talk about the physical acting for a minute. He’s shaking uncontrollably, every muscle is tightly wound and coiled. He can’t feel his hands. He can’t breathe. His skin is red and burning up with tension. He looks like a freight train is running through his body. His face contorts like he’s swallowing bile and is about to vomit. His acting is so real it is distressing to watch. Because he puts his body through so much, we are right there with him in every moment. We can truly feel what he’s feeling. He looks like he’s in real pain.

Eventually in this moment, Carmy focuses on Sydney—the first time he saw her face and when she came back to him, affirming words she’s told him about who he is and how she sees him. He’s kneeling at this point and is finally able to suspend his suffering, lower his panic, calm himself down and breathe. The flush on his face starts to lessen. The fever breaks and starts to come down as he focuses on Sydney and only Sydney. This is all conveyed without a single word from the actor. A montage shows us what he’s thinking, but the emotional stakes of this scene rely entirely on the actor’s ability to use his body to let us in so we can feel what he’s experiencing, and he delivers.

Carmy and Sydney Under the Table

The scene under the table is so tender and beautiful it brought me to tears. It’s a moment of truth, reckoning, concern, care, and yes, love, between the two of them. Carmy creates an environment that is gentle and safe, and Sydney softens and blossoms in a way that we have not seen before. There are moments that are so intimate, still and low it’s as if they are speaking to each other softly while laid out across each other’s chests. Sydney shares her fears and Carmy essentially tells her, “it’s ok. I’m here. We’re in this together. You’re safe with me and I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Physically, in this moment, Carmy is so attentive, and so at peace with Sydney that time literally stands still. They are in their own dimension. We are so used to seeing Carmy in motion, thrashing around and stressed, that this scene and the way that it’s acted feels like a deliverance. He creates a sanctuary for Sydney to feel safe. The physicality and voice of the actor creates this moment. They are 25 minutes to open, and his eyes are gentle, his voice is as soft as it’s ever been, he’s breathing steady and easy. He’s gently moving his hand but not out of frantic energy. He can’t soothe her with touch so he soothes her with words. This scene is a revelation in how the actor shows us Sydney’s impact on Carmy. In her presence, his entire nervous system is completely and finally relaxed and at ease.

——————————————————————-

All of what this actor gives and does as a performer engenders so much empathy for the character that his feelings become ours. We exhale when he does, and it actually hurts to watch him suffer. We worry about him, and his health, and care about his feelings. I think that’s why people have connected with this show so much. The rest of the cast is fantastic, but if we do not feel for Carmy and care about him as a character, the show does not work. He knows this, puts his body on the line, and gives it his all. He deserves the awards he had received for this role and I hope we get to see him continue this character in a season 3 and beyond.

Pay. The. Actors.

©️moments-on-film 2023

[maximusblack-hp]

Rodrick Heffley x Male Reader

Warning:Not Beta Read

It wasn’t long before Rodrick ended up making out with the other teen. Out of all the things the other boy could have done Rodrick didn’t expect this.

Rodrick felt a tingling sensation throughout his body but then it stopped. As the other teen let him go. Rodrick felt as if all his energy was sucked out leading to him sliding onto the ground.

After being able to catch his breath for the moment the teen above leaned his head down so he was blocking the crawling from Rodrick view. They were face to face this time Rodrick had his eyes open with an expression of shock and something akin to lust.

The teen hand was on the locker to balance for support. Yet it looked as if he were dominating Rodrick’s space once more.

Rodrick may have called the teen something akin to being a stereotypical straight teen bully but I’m not so frisky words. And it seems he was wrong about it.

Instead the teen said,”if you haven’t realized I’m not as straight as you think I may be,” He made sure Rodrick was listening when he said,”I’ll happily bully you again like right now but next time let’s take it to my bedroom.”

Rodrick didn’t know what to say to that but he didn’t get to. As the other teen started walking down the hall. Not without saying,” see you around Heffley.

The teenager was planning on doing that. And he wouldn’t be surprised if Heffley decided to ignore him from now on, but damn it all. He couldn’t help himself not when Rodrick was his type. And those sleep deprived eyes just made him think of doing things to Rodrick.

He wasn’t planning on acting out on his feelings. At least not now or in the way he did.(He noticed Rodrick closed his eyes as if he was expecting to be beaten up.

Although if there was one thing that pissed him off was someone thinking he was straight. Even though he has confirmed several times he wasn’t. Just because he looked like a stereotypical teen popular doesn’t mean he was. He certainly didn’t have bad taste like others in his grade thinking someone like Heather was hot.

Not only did he find all that pink repulsive but it was most because she sucked. He didn’t see the appeal of a bratty rich girl who thought she was entitled to everything.

In another floor the teen banged his head against the wall. Starting to berate himself for kissing Rodrick Fucking Heffley. And those lips they felt softer compared to how try they looked. He was fucked he might have actually gotten an even bigger crush just from kissing his crush.

While he was berating himself Rodrick was having a slight connect the dot moment. All those posters where he thought he might have envied the musician, he might have had a crush on them instead. He didn’t know for sure. Just that he wanted to be kissed the same way again and then more.

Rodrick was like the straight ally in his band but now. He’s the not so straight ally.

And Rodrick was unaware of the fact his friends realized it years before he did. Ben, one of his friends had a perfect gaydar except he knew before others did. And he could have told Rodrick ahead of time that the guy who kissed him was definitely on the radar.

[blackbullet99]

Debunking The Stupidest Pro-Zutara Claims.

Howdy y’all.

If you follow me, you know I’m a Kataang truther and a Zutara hater. I always thought Kataang was cute as a kid, but I honestly didn’t appreciate how mutual and well developed their relationship more until I was older. By contrast, I didn’t think much of Zutara initially, I knew it had a huge following and I kinda got why, they have a very interesting dynamic that drastically changes and them becoming friends is heartwarming, but I never got the hype. Then I saw this…

And I was utterly baffled at the mischaracterization, media-illiteracy, Zuko dickriding and Aang demonization on this post. Let’s have a look…

See what I mean about the Zuko dickriding and Aang demonizing. You compare one scene of Zuko making tea for everyone in Book 3, to Aang showing off in Book 1. Need I mention that Aang later apologized for getting big-headed by the end, and later episodes show that Aang (and the rest of the group) all work together. Right off the bat and we get this dumb Katara/Cinderella narrative.

Not another Dadko. Momtara I kind of get, but Zuko is not a father figure. Zuko himself is still young, still growing, still capable of being immature. The first moment isn’t even a parental thing, it’s more Zuko stopping Katara from confronting Aang because he somewhat understands Aang’s frustration of being unsure and conflicting about a huge decision, because he’s been there not long ago.

Comforting someone when they’re worried or grieving isn’t parental responsibility, that’s being empathetic and good friend. Katara comforts Zuko when he’s worried about comforting Iroh and these people lap that scene up.

“Aang acts like Katara’s son” is such a baseless argument. Ignoring the fact that Aang canonically has romantic feelings for Katara and vise-verse, the first moment was a one-off joke about Katara being motherly, the second was also a joke where Katara PRETENDS to be Aang’s mom and her brother’s husband, the last moment is Katara telling Toph how she TRAINS Aang because she’s his Sifu and so it Toph, does that mean Toph is also Aang’s mom?

Let’s go over this for the umpteenth time: Aang kissing Katara was wrong, it was bad, we should’ve seen him apologize, but he immediately regretted what he did, he knew he messed up, he’s not a sexual-assaulter, blah, blah blah. The problem with this is that these are both completely different situations and also Zuko had to be told to get off Katara, so not only is this point meaningless, but it doesn’t even support Zutara.

This has gotta be one of the dumbest arguments here, Aang has always seen Katara as an ally and dear friend first and foremost since day one. Admittedly Aang was somewhat possessive here, but him nodding mean he literally though Katara was his possession, more so him thinking Katara returned his feelings (which she did). But throughout the entirety of the show Aang sees Katara as not only an ally, but a friend, a fellow waterbender, Zuko only saw her as a friend and ally near the very end of the show, before that he simply saw her as a peasant in the way of his goal.

Again, both of these are completely different contexts and both Aang and Zuko were pretty adamant about how Katara feels about them. Zuko frustratingly confronts Katara about why she’s mad it him, he wants to earn to trust and sleep deprives himself so he can resolve this as soon as she wakes up. Katara asks why Aang is so crestfallen, he explains part of the reason, Aang (while being somewhat pushy) wants to know how Katara feels before he confronts Ozai in life or death.

Both are different situations and really I wouldn’t say either is better than the other.

Okay, there’s a lot wrong with these points, lemme go over them as best as I can.

Aang has put his needs over Katara’s several times, just to name three: he gave himself so the Fire Nation would spare her home, was willing to forgo his own Waterbending because Pakku wouldn’t train her, willingly put aside mastering the Avatar State because SHE WAS IN DANGER!

Aang understands the importance of Katara’s family, he leaves so as to to come between Katara and her family when she threatens to leave, he brings back her necklace knowing how much it means to her.

In both of mentioned Aang instances, he realized he was wrong and he and Katara reconciled, the first instance was out of a misguided attempt to set things right after he was killed, and the former is something Aang would never do again, in a later episode he actively takes Sokka to his father and Aang is content for he and Katara to go their separate ways for a while. I find it utterly hypocritical to be a Zuko dickrider while bashing Aang for mistakes he regrets, apologizes for and learns from, you know who else does that?

Once again, THE CONTEXT! In the first scene Katara mentions her mother’s death in a more matter of fact way to explain to Aang that the Fire Nation have killed a lot of people including his own. Aang however in a state of denial dismissed the idea of his own people being killed. In the second scene Katara lashes out at Zuko for all the trouble he caused and Zuko after going through some development prior empathizes with her in a way to get Katara to understand he means no harm.

Aang also empathized with Katara’s loss. In this same episode, he himself says he knows what it’s like to feel the pain and rage Katara feels, specifically when he found out all his people were dead and encouraged Katara to confront the person who caused said pain.

I REALLY HATE making a Katara centric episode about shipping, I really do, many people say Zuko was right Aang was wrong, or Aang was right Zuko was wrong. Neither side was entirely right or entirely wrong.

Zuko was right to take Katara to confront Yon-Rha and this was when he truly began to understand what Katara had been through and see her as an individual, while Katara comes to see Zuko as a friend and forgive him, however he had no idea what Katara was going to do and didn’t think of toll this would take on Katara if she did end up choosing violence.

Meanwhile Aang not agreeing with Katara and confronting her isn’t a bad thing, he understands just what it’s like to lose someone close to you and to feel unbridled rage and hate, he’s been there, he also knows Katara isn’t cold-hearted and she could come to regret seeking violence. He actively encourages Katara to face Yon-Rha without killing him, which she does and as Zuko says he was right about what Katara needed. But as Katara points out she didn’t forgive Yon-Rha, forgiveness wasn’t the right choice, and you know what, this is something Aang accepts.

These points in particular really highlight the stupidity and hypocrisy of the OP. For one, as we can literally see Aang ignored his training specifically because Katara was in danger and he wanted to save her, this is no different from Zuko sacrificing himself to save Katara, in fact Aang has put his life on the line for Katara multiple times. Furthermore OP gets on Aang’s case for leaving Katara to fulfill his duties in the Book 3 premiere, but then praises Zuko for leaving Mai to fulfill his duties. They’re literally praising Zuko for doing the same stuff Aang’s doing and whining about Aang whether he chose to ignore his duties to be with Katara or if he leaves Katara to fulfill his duties, you can’t win!

Okay, screw this guy, this has nothing to do with the Zuko saving Katara, OP just wanted to bitch about Aang not wanting to kill Ozai as if this supposedly makes him selfish even though Aang is literally facing Ozai to save the world and is simply trying to find a peaceful solution, it’s like the theme of this show was lost on this dude.

This was the creep who made weird comments about Katara’s appearance wasn’t it.

I really don’t get what this final point is trying to prove. The first scene is Katara happy that Zuko is alive, the second is Katara happily gazing at Aang, who never at any point tried to change Katara, at all. Point me to one scene, one moment. If this is about how Katara looks, she doesn’t look that different, at the very least, her eyes are slightly bigger in the second pic because she close to someone she loves, but even then it’s a lot of whining from this guy about nothing.

Case in point, this is when I realized Anti-Kataang Zutara shippers have are media-illiterate morons with not a single good take, fake-fans who only care about mischaracterization for the sake of a mid middle-school ship.

Maybe I should make a counter post about what Katara gains from Kataang.

[maniacalgenius]

goal(s) for fall 2024 (semester 5)*

1. Not Have Things To Cry About.

upon sharing this with dr sandwich, she suggested she would have gone with something like 4 hours of deliberate studying every day, and i told her that came with the territory of Not Having Things To Cry About. so, ahem: subgoals!

1.1. 4 hours of deliberate study every day.

excluding sundays, which will be church/cooking/cleaning/laundry. i will be using my favorite little forest app to keep track of this

1.2. get 8+ hours of sleep every night.

i have been chronically sleep deprived since about… 2018, so i’m hoping to catch up. for several months now i’ve had this lovely little issue of randomly waking up sometime between 3 and 5 in the morning and not being able to go back to sleep; hopefully this will stop when i start running around campus all day again. ideally i will get in the shower every night by 8:30 and be lights out by 10

1.3. continue forming my habit of having a quiet time every morning!

this is something i have been doing on and off all 2024. first i pray, then i read a chapter of the Bible, and then i pray again. i started off really strong in january but began slacking off as my bedtime and wake up time degraded and i started tumbling out of bed at the last possible moment. however, my life is consistently better and more peaceful when i prioritise time with the Lord, so i’m hoping to keep my sights on that and not let the habits slip again!

1.4. eat breakfast every day

haven’t had this habit for a while but life was also better when i did so. i have major food issues with things like texture and sometimes the physical act of chewing and swallowing itself just becomes really difficult. so i’m racking my brain for things that are relatively easy that i also will be willing to eat in the mornings. we’ll see how that goes!

i think this is really all of the habits i haven’t been doing that i want to start/have been doing inconsistently and want to prioritise more. also just cooking real food for myself more in general, not just breakfast. i love my Little Treats™️ but unforch i can’t subsist off those entirely. or so i’ve been told…

i also want to continue trying to make a dent in my huge stack of unread books, but that is just too much to put as a formal goal or subgoal, so i will just fit that in where i can.

*have i really only done 4 semesters? i guess 4 semesters and two full time summers. (actually one summer, this one, that was full time and one summer, 2023, that was over double full time. i do NOT miss that 🫣)

[midnightcupiid]

i want a love like i’ve seen in the movies, that’s why i’ll never fall in love

pairing: valgrace (leo valdez x jason grace)

summary: jason is dead. leo writes letters to him to cope.

word count: 418 (oof)

a/n: GUESS WHO FINALLY GOT HER ACT TOGETHER!!!!!! title from ‘like the movies’ by laufey, relates to nothing i just thought it was cute lmao. wrote this at 2am while severely dehydrated and sleep deprived. i did not check, but hopefully the spelling is ok. enjoy!!!!

(dividers by @plutism)

jason,

you’ll never get this. trust me, i know it. you’re gone.

piper says you wrote letters to me when I was gone. gods, why would you write letters? you’re you were dyslexic, you idiot! i’m barely writing right now. this is hard.

i never found the ones you wrote when we were going through your stuff. i wish i did. maybe it could’ve given me some closure, i guess. i hold on to every part of you i can find. your clothes smell less like you every day. the flowers i put at your grave the first day are starting to wilt. 

i still can’t believe it; we were done, out of the woods.(will has been forcing me to listen to taylor swift to try and cheer me up. it’s torture.) now, you’re gone. what’s the point of anything at this point? nothing feels real. one day, i’ll go to elysium. see you again. hopefully. the judges better grant me that mercy. i’ve lived a shit life. i deserve a happy ending. at least, i think i do.

i would go to a therapist, but… i don’t think that would be good for me right now. too much thinking. i usually try not to think. instead, my therapy is building stuff in bunker nine. i’ve been looking at spheres. they can do so much! i almost lasered off my whole arm the other day and but it’s whatever, you don’t want to hear me ramble right now.

i’m reading more, too. you would always get on me about that. well, fake you, at the wilderness school. you were always so righteous. i guess real you was too busy saving the world to annoy me about my reading habits. anyways, i asked annabeth for recommendations. BAD IDEA. now she’s forcing me to read all the “classics”! it’s a nightmare. but some of them are okay, like jane austen. did you know she was a baddie? because she is. but i was reading the canterville ghost, by oscar wilde. there was one line that made me think, which i don’t do much, clearly.

“death must be so beautiful. to lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. to have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. to forget time, to forget life, to be at peace.”

i know most of this is wrong. they don’t have any silence in elysium! but for what it’s worth, i hope you’re at peace. you deserve that, after everything.

i miss you.

leo

end note: ANYWAYSSSSSS

i am planning to make a prequel of one of jason’s letters eventually. i rlly hope you liked it! i’ll link it here when it’s done. lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

GENERAL TAGLIST: @illneverforget365

VALGRACE TAGLIST: n/a

[devils-little-sista]

This is just me kinda projecting my sleeping habits onto Nico don’t mind me

Nico goes through a cycle of three different periods where he doesn’t sleep at all for a while and then he sleeps 24/7 for a while and then it kinda evens out but it’s backwards like he sleeps for most of the day and is awake all night and if he has things to do during those days he will take naps in between doing things. And the cycle rinses and repeats.

Sometimes there are triggers for these insomnia and depression nap episodes and sometimes Nico has no idea what the trigger was and he thinks maybe it just happens naturally sometimes.

I think it started when he came to camp halfblood in the titans curse. The question is: I’m not sure if it started with full on insomnia or his circadian rythum going topsey turvey. He mention somewhere in TTC that he doesn’t sleep well at camp. Could mean insomnia or turning nocturnal. The trigger was the big change in his life of being a demigod and crushing on Percy and Bianca leaving him and dying. Has an insomnia episode right after he runs away for sure the trigger being Bianca dying.

And in the battle of the labyrinth I think he’s mostly having a big long insomnia episode. Except for that one time he was chillin at that ranch house with the older son of Ares what was his name *reads writing on hand* Eurytion. And Nico came out the house with a giant robe on that was the only time he had slept in battle of the labyrinth he probably slept for like 2 days straight depression nap and then went right back into an insomnia episode. The trigger for this episode: Minos and trying to bring Bianca back and the labyrinth and Minos driving him a little insane

And then in the last Olympian I think he started out going through that backwards circadian rhythm cycle. He’s mostly sleeping during the day and up all night. But he’s got stuff to do during the day now he’s gotta help Percy get the Styx curse in the underworld. He’s very tired throughout the whole visiting May Castellan ordeal. And after the underworld incident he just kinda has to force himself into an insomnia episode so that he can convince Hades and Persephone and Demeter to fight in battle of manhattan.

And for the weeks after where he stays at camp he just takes little cat naps during the day and up all night. Despite him actually trying his hardest to sleep at night and be normal it just doesn’t work he eventually gives up

And then in son of Neptune he’s definitely in the midst of an insomnia episode. Just the way he acts throughout this book is borderline manic (maybe actually manic). He doesn’t sleep at all in Tartarus. When they put him in the jar he has to force himself into depression nap even tho him and his body want sleep deprived manic insomnia episode.

When he gets out of the jar on the Argo 2 I think he has a lot of insomnia he’s very scared to sleep for many reasons. Nightmares and giants and goddesses wanting to send dream messages to him. He wants to ignore them like they’re not there like they’re an annoying email. But he’s not as manic during this episode if he is he doesn’t show it. He’s got no energy for mania. He just barely keeps himself awake for a several days and eventually passes out. For 2-4 days. He wants to lay in the med bay cot he slept in forever he never wants to get up. But eventually he makes himself get up so as not to concern Hazel. Forced himself into another insomnia episode after another.

Then in blood of Olympus he’s wanting to sleep forever but has to force himself awake for this quest. But then right after BoO he spirals on insomnia. Stays up for about 6 and a half days total. There was a lot going on those days and Nico wanted to be awake and aware of everything happening. Collapsed on the 7th morning after Gea is defeated. Sleeps for several days. Only gets up because he got bored and wanted to hang out with Jason.

And I don’t know what comes after that. I don’t remember much of Nico in ToA so idk man. I think this is the end of the line for me now. I’m going to sleep now good night guys.

Oh wait no I forgot about the sword of hades short story. I thinks he was in insomnia episode. Because it happens in the middle of the day and Nico said he had been at a graveyard in New Jersey before Persephone shadow summoned him. And he seems very awake throughout that whole ordeal. And I think after he had a long sleep.

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 28/34 - cigarette smoke

[Read on AO3]

The scent of cigarette smoke wakes her, burning her nostrils with its offensive odor.

It reminds her of the days before—when he’d come in the night, speaking in hushed tones with her husband and effectively plotting the end of her life and happiness. The downfall of the family she’d worked so hard to hold together.

It had been a long time since family meant more to her than heartache and regret. She’s not about to let him take it away again. Not when she might have just gotten it back.

“Get out of my house,” she says, her voice coming out strong and commanding despite the late hour.

“Teena,” he intones, as if surprised to find her in her own home. “How nice to see you.” 

She flicks the light on above him, depriving him of the precious darkness he likes to hide behind. He’s always been too theatrical for her taste. It used to intimidate her, even scare her. Not anymore.

She grips Bill’s old shotgun in her hands.

“Are you going to shoot me, Teena?” he says, squinting at her and chuckling a bit under his breath. It doesn’t look like she’ll need to, at this rate. He’s already run himself halfway into the ground without her help.

A pity.

She adjusts her hold on the weapon anyway. It’s loaded, of course. She isn’t a fool. 

“What do you want, Spender?” she asks impatiently. “There’s nothing more for you here.”

“Is there not?” he asks coolly, leaning toward the coffee table where he has set out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “I thought you might like to celebrate. I heard the good news, of course.”

The hairs on the back of her neck begin to rise. Of course he’d heard. He has eyes and ears everywhere. She’d given up long ago trying to keep things from him. It never ended well.

“You stay away from my son and his family,” she spits, raising the barrel of the gun toward him. He doesn’t so much as flinch.

“Don’t you mean our son, Teena?” he asks, smirking up at her. “I think that makes them my family too, if I’m not mistaken.”

She reels back in disgust. “You don’t know the meaning of the word,” she says accusingly. “And you are not his father.”

The smoking man chuckles heartily again, taking a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “Oh, I assure you, I am. I’ve had Fox’s DNA tested on several occasions. The results are quite conclusive.”

“I don’t care what your results say,” she says, a fire burning in her eyes. “DNA doesn’t mean one thing when it comes to family.”

Spender purses his lips, but otherwise doesn’t respond. He knows there’s nothing he can say to that.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he says after a tense silence. “But that doesn’t mean he can’t be convinced. I don’t need to be his father to leave an impression on him, do I?” 

He gets to his feet, approaching her one step at a time, unbothered by the weapon she holds.

She holds her ground.

“I can be very persuasive, if you’ll recall,” he says, reaching up to touch a stray tuft of hair on her head.

Enough.

“You relinquished any hold you may have had on him the day you entrusted him to Agent Scully,” she spits, jabbing the mouth of the gun into his side and pushing him back a few inches. “Now, you can either heed my warning, or face the consequences.”

He tilts his head curiously, the ever-present smirk on his face unwavering.

“Is that so? And what might those be?”

He has no idea, does he, how much damage she could do. Decades of righteous anger stored up inside her, a front row seat to some of the most horrific and evil acts of mankind…

“Do you forget that I was there, Spender?” she asks, the corner of her mouth twitching. “I was there from the beginning. I’ve heard it all—seen everything. Can you really risk letting what I know get out?”

“You seem to think I can’t kill you where you stand,” he says, leveling her with a menacing stare, dropping his earlier unaffected demeanor. “If sleeping pills are your method of choice, that can easily be arranged.”

She scoffs at him.

“You won’t kill me,” she says confidently. “And I will not be intimidated by you.”

For all the times she stayed silent, for all the fear that once controlled her—this is her redemption.

C.G.B. Spender is a stain on humanity, and she will not allow him to meddle in her life any longer.

“There are two ways this can end,” she states, her voice low and serious. “Either you disappear, and never come near my family again—or I watch you bleed out all over my grandmother’s rug. Your choice.”

He lifts his cigarette to his lips. As he exhales, a cloud of smoke envelops her face, but she does not waver.

“I’ll go,” he says evenly. “No need to desecrate such a lovely antique.”

That’s the thing she had never noticed as a younger woman: that this man is nothing but a coward. Everything he does, every action he takes, is to save his own skin and nothing more. Only her son was bold enough to stand up to him. He had shown her the cracks in Spender’s armor.

“You’ll stay away from Fox and Dana,” she states, watching as he turns to leave.

He glances back at her.

“Your threat holds no real power over me,” he says offhandedly, notably not agreeing to her terms. Bending down over the coffee table, he picks up the glass of whiskey he’d poured for himself and takes a sip. “Anything you might reveal of my business would be dismissed as the ravings of a madwoman. And you’re right, I don’t want to kill you. But I will, if you force my hand. Nothing will be revealed that I do not wish to be revealed.”

“Ha,” Teena laughs humorlessly. He thinks so highly of himself, like he’s some kind of all-knowing god, controlling the events of this world like some grandiose puppetmaster.

She’s seen behind the curtain, though, and she knows better. She’s learned how to play his game.

“If you think my death would stop the truth from coming out, you’re more of a fool than I thought,” she says. “How long have I known you, Spender, that I wouldn’t have put in failsafes in the event of my death?”

Oh, is that a flicker of fear, she detects?

“I’ve had the better part of three decades to plan for your downfall,” she continues. “I do not fear death as you do.”

His lips remain tightly closed, his whiskey forgotten.

She leans in close, meeting his cold, unfeeling eyes head on.

“And that is why you will always fail.”

There’s a kind of delirious satisfaction in watching him go. It’s a waste of oxygen, she thinks, that he continues to live, but she will not stoop to his level. Not unless absolutely necessary.

He slinks back into the shadows from whence he came, and she prays that’s the last she will ever see or hear from him again. She’s prepared to follow through with her threats, if it’s not.

The shotgun goes back to its rightful place under her bed, with all her husband’s old things. He had been a good man, before he got swept up in Spender’s world. She tries, now, to remember that side of him, and not the one that came later. Enough of her life has been spent being angry, and she’s tired of it. She’s tired of the sadness and the bitterness.

It’s time for her to move past all that.

She lays back in her bed, the one that had almost been her deathbed, and breathes in deeply. Once upon a time, she had needed copious amounts of sleeping pills just to get through the night. The horrors that awaited her when she closed her eyes were unbearable, so traumatizing that she’d even experience nightmarish hallucinations.

But now?

Well, for the first time in years, Teena Mulder has a peaceful night’s sleep.

~~~

I can't make you go a day without Mulder and Scully in the update...

He knows he should be sleeping. Scully is snoozing away on the bed, and has been for quite some time now. Then again, once her head hits a pillow, he knows she’s hard-pressed to stay awake for even five minutes.

Chapter 29/34 - rocking chair

Him, however…

He sits up on the ugly upholstered couch, stretching his neck in a futile attempt to straighten out the kinks.

He’s a father.

The thought is almost beyond comprehension. If he’d actually been asleep, he might have thought it had all been a dream. But, no. He’s sitting in a hospital room a mere ten feet away from Scully, and they’re parents.

It feels both sudden, and like it was years in the making.

Casting a quick glance over to his sleeping partner, he rises to his feet and tiptoes to the doorway, pulling the door open as quietly as possible. The brightness of the fluorescent lights in the hallway causes him to squint momentarily until his eyes can adjust. A sign comes into focus in front of him on the wall, pointing him in the direction he wants to go.

A few hours ago, the nurses came by to check on the three of them, ensuring that they had everything they needed for the night. They’d offered to take the baby to the nursery so that the new parents could rest, and though it was tough to see that little cherubic face go, he and Scully both knew that their nights of getting a somewhat acceptable amount of sleep were numbered. They eventually agreed, and like magic, Scully had slipped into her silk pajamas and under the paper-thin hospital sheets before he even knew what happened.

Now, though, he figures he might as well do something useful with his insomnia-induced awake time, so he heads down the hall until he comes to a large glass window. Behind it, the lights are dimmed, but bright enough that he can see the seven or eight babies sleeping peacefully in individual plastic bassinets.

His cheeks twitch with the beginnings of a smile as he takes in the gentle rise and fall of their little bellies, their first soft breaths of this new life.

Each one has a name tacked onto the plastic bin of the bassinet, proudly announcing the date and time each was born. His eyes roam over every one until he spots her. His little girl.

Madeline Samantha Mulder May 2, 2000 10:13 a.m. 6 lb. 4 oz.  /  18 ¾ in.

Though he’s already had the better part of a day to get to know her, the sight of her still knocks the breath out of his lungs.

Almost as if she senses she is being watched, she begins to fuss, the hat that was keeping her head warm beginning to fall off. He can see wetness building around her eyes, tears leaking out and drying on her rosy cheeks.

Mulder puts his hand on the glass, wishing there was something he could do.

Thankfully, a nurse comes bustling in, bunching the little pink stocking cap back onto her head and whispering soothing words that he can’t hear.

He taps softly against the glass, not loud enough to disturb the other sleeping infants, but sufficient to get the attention of the nurse. After adjusting the baby’s blankets, she looks up, offering Mulder a small smile.

“Can I see her?” he mouths, pointing at his daughter. He raises his wrist and points to the hospital band that declares him the baby’s father, and the woman’s smile widens. After double-checking that Madeline is back asleep, the nurse comes around to the hallway, clipboard in hand.

“Already on that new parent sleep schedule, I see,” she jokes, eyes scanning down a list of names.

Mulder chuckles. “Been practicing for years,” he says.

“Can I see your band?” she asks, and he presents it to her. She checks the ID number on it against the information on her documentation, and nods. “You wanna take her back to your room?”

He hesitates. “Uh, my… wife’s still sleeping. I don’t want to wake her.”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to calling her that…

“Not a problem, Mr. Mulder. We’ve got a room back here you can use, if you like.”

“That would be great.”

The nurse leads him back to a side room at the back of the nursery equipped with a few chairs and all the necessary supplies.

“Let me go get your little girl,” she says, before disappearing through the doorway. She’s back moments later, the baby now blinking awake in her arms.

Mulder mentally kicks himself.

“I shouldn’t have had you disturb her, she needs her sleep,” he says, a tinge of regret causing his shoulders to slump as she rests little Madeline in the cradle of his arms. Parent rule #1, if your baby is sleeping (by some miracle), don’t even breathe in the wrong direction. Just count your blessings.

He’s already messing it up.

His self-chastisement is cut short by the warm chuckle of the night nurse. “She’ll go right back to sleep, don’t you worry. She’s all tuckered out from her busy day!” she assures him.

Mulder relaxes, smiling a grateful smile up at her.

“Let me know when you’re heading back to your room,” she says, taking her leave.

Once she’s gone, Mulder’s attention falls to the wide-eyed little creature staring up at him. Her eyes are baby blue, a different shade than Scully’s, but he’s probably the only person on the planet that could tell you so. The flutter of her eyelashes mesmerizes him.

“Hi,” he breathes, tears involuntarily pooling in his eyes for what must be the millionth time that day. Maddie wriggles in her tightly swaddled blankets, and Mulder tugs on them to make sure they don’t fall loose.

After some effort, one tiny little arm escapes its confines despite his attempt at stopping it. He shakes his head with a breath of laughter, reaching out with his free hand to let her wrap his finger in her miniscule fist. With his thumb, he begins tracing soft circles on her warm, baby soft skin.

Has he ever held a hand so small? Five perfect, pudgy fingers on each hand. The tiniest fingernails he’s ever seen. That cute button nose and chubby cheeks. Rosebud lips and a chin that he’s noticed juts out just a little when she’s about to cry.

She’s perfect, his Madeline. And he vows to protect her from all the harm in this world.

“Sorry for waking you up, baby girl,” he whispers, lifting her fist to his lips and placing a kiss there. “Don’t tell mommy.”

Her wide eyes stare up at him, trusting and content.

“Come here,” he says, and he shifts her so she’s upright, then transfers her to his chest. The second her cheek—still sticky from tears—falls against his chest, her eyes flutter shut. He can feel her every breath, laying like this. From the rise and fall of her chest to the almost imperceptible exhales of air from her nose, there is a living breathing person relying on him now.

What had he ever done to deserve this?

He rubs her back, patting lightly at a steady rhythm that he hopes is comforting and relaxing. The repetitive motion plus the rocking chair ought to be enough to put any person to sleep—even himself.

Her fist curls against the neckline of his worn, gray t-shirt, fastening it in her iron grip. He lets his cheek fall against her head and breathes in deeply. This is a moment he wants to remember for the rest of his life.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he mumbles, his lips brushing against her head before he pulls back.

He pauses for a moment, as if waiting for an answer. He thinks he can hear a clock ticking somewhere in the hallway, and a door somewhere in the distance snicks shut.

He lowers his voice even further, speaking so only his baby can hear.

“I’m in love with your mommy.”

The words are barely audible, but they’re the truth. And a truth spoken softly is better than nothing.

“What do you think of that, huh?”

On his shoulder, Madeline’s face has gone slack, a little bubble peeking out between her lips with each even breath she takes. She’s fast asleep, and in hardly any time at all.

He prays the pattern will continue when they get home.

For a good half hour, he stays planted in that chair, humming softly to every song he can think of that might qualify as a lullaby. Eventually though, after two rounds of Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis, his own eyes begin to droop shut.

He’s loath to part with her, but the nurse stops by again asking if he’d like her to take the baby back to her bassinet, and he agrees. Before long, he’s back in the hall, the phantom weight of Madeline on his shoulder as he carefully opens the door to suite 509.

“Mulder?” he hears her voice, raspy and disoriented. The sliver of light from the hall illuminates her face, and she blocks it out with a raised hand, squinting adorably. “Why are you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he answers, making his way back to the couch.

“Were you trying to sleep on that thing?” she asks, looking at the couch in disdain. He wants to laugh at the messiness of her hair sticking up every which way, but instead he feels his heart clench at the sight of her.

I love you, he thinks.

“Mulder…”

He realizes he hasn’t answered her question, so he clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. Might be a little short, but not bad,” he says.

The furrow of Scully’s eyebrows is visible even just by the light of the moon streaming through the horizontal window blinds.

“I sat there earlier. It’s terrible,” she says, confusion lacing her features.

Mulder shrugs, not sure what else to say.

She purses her lips, the expression on her face one he recognizes to be her puzzle-solving face. He’s seen it plenty of times at crime scenes, but he doesn’t have a clue what it may mean in this context.

“Come over here,” she says.

He looks up, his eyes meeting hers.

She’s serious.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he stands from the couch, approaching Scully cautiously lest she change her mind.

But instead of changing her mind, she shuffles backward, making space on the not quite queen-sized bed for Mulder to lay down.

“How is she?” Scully asks knowingly as the bed dips below his weight.

He toes his shoes off, swinging his legs up on the bed and tucking them beneath the covers.

“She’s perfect, Scully.”

She smiles. Her hand reaches out as he’s settling into the mattress, and catches his hand in hers. Their fingers intertwine like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and he hopes she can’t feel his heart hammering in his chest.

This somehow feels different than the other times they’ve shared a bed. Unlike those times, there’s no great need for comfort and security, and no cow has flown through the roof of the building.

It’s just two parents trying to catch some shut-eye. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Thanks for being here, Mulder,” Scully mumbles sleepily, her eyes having fallen shut once again. “Thanks for being her dad.”

He squeezes her hand once in acknowledgement. There are too many words he wishes he could say, gratitude he wants to express for allowing him to do this with her, to be a part of it. For giving Maddie his last name. For honoring his sister. He doesn’t even know where to begin, but now isn’t the time anyway. He is rendered functionally mute.

The air conditioner hums in the silence that settles, and he counts the seconds, sure that she must have gone back to sleep.

Just as he begins to feel himself drifting off, he hears her again.

It’s almost inaudible. Spoken like a secret into the night, an accidental admission that wasn’t meant for his ears. Part of him isn’t sure it’s her he hears at all, merely a wishful auditory hallucination experienced on the cusp of a dream.

“I love you.”

And, even if it’s not real, he thinks he hears himself utter back, “I love you too.”

~~~

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[longnightswriting]

promise me you’ll stay | ellie x reader

summary: ellie shows up at the door of her ex(you) bleeding out and desperate for your help, regardless of how long it’s been since you’ve last talked

content warning: descriptions of injury, blood, language, fluff, angst, hurt, toxic relationship

a/n: it’s been awhile since i’ve written fanfic that i’m willing to put out, but tlou has been inspiring, so please enjoy and feel free to leave requests

word count: 3.3k

__________________

I wonder what it’s called— that state of being half awake and half asleep. Awake enough that you know you aren’t getting any rest, but too asleep to care.

The day was long but fulfilling, and even though I couldn’t seem to get comfortable just yet, I was thankful to be in bed.

My mind raced with things that still needed to be done, all while being crowded by things that didn’t make any sense. Sleep deprivation is a wild thing.

But in an instant, my eyes shot open as I scrambled to sit up, my heart racing so fast it felt as though it could slam out of my chest.

I rubbed at my eyes, looking over to the red numbers that rested upon my nightstand; 2:38am.

Already?

My head shot over to the door as the pounding continued; knocks on the door that reminded me of what had gotten my heart racing like this.

I pushed myself off the mattress, my feet padding on the cool wooden floor as I stumbled in a daze to the door, “Coming.” I mumbled out, reaching for the deadbolt.

As soon as I opened the door, I felt wide awake, but for the worst reason I could think of.

Ellie stumbled forward, bloodied hand gripping tightly onto the doorframe.

“Oh my god-“ I breathed, nearly dragging her in as she fought against my help, “El-“

At this point, Ellie and I hadn’t talked in roughly 3 months, and the last time we did the words we exchanged were filled with every negative emotion you could think of.

“Ok, no- no, Ellie!” I tried stopping her as she pushed past, nearly her entire left pant leg drenched in blood, “You need to be seen by the doctors-“

“You’re going to be my doctor,” she tried joking, each word that left her lips strained and exhausted, “Like before.”

I know my face was drenched in pity as I watched her wince, trying to steady herself against the kitchen table, “Ellie-“ I barely got out.

She let out a sigh that struggled in her throat,

“Please.” She begged, her voice cracking.

It would be foolish not to help her, but not only that, it would be cruel.

I closed the door, rushing over to her as I began frantically looking her over body, starting at the gash in her leg, moving to the wound on her stomach, and finally landing on her blood spattered face. I brushed her hair aside, but she pulled away.

It had been so long, but still the absence of her desire was soul crushing. I desperately wanted to ask her what happened, but I knew the answer would come in time if she was willing.

“Ok, come on.” I ushered her forward off the table, just enough to where I could unbutton her jeans and begin to slide them down her blood soaked thighs.

Hisses left her lips while apologies left mine.

I stopped at her knees, but only momentarily before pulling them off the rest of the way. There’s still plenty of her clothes here and these weren’t worth saving.

“Ellie…” my voice nearly whimpered out at the full sight of the wound.

“I’m ok.” She tried reassuring through painful breaths, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the table beneath her.

I tuned her out; I didn’t need to hear her lies or watch her put on another tough guy act when it was only the two of us here.

Leaving her side for only a moment, I returned from the kitchen with a now damp hand towel. I slowly attempted to wipe off the blood from around the wound so I could see what I was really looking at.

Looking at the inch long gash on her leg, I was at a loss for words and feeling helpless.

I had patched Ellie up in the past before— countless times actually, but nothing this severe. Bruises, scrapes, cuts, even stitching up a split on her brow, but this? It looks like she was stabbed and I am just about the furthest thing from a doctor.

As I continued to wipe around the wound, the blood never ceased and my anxiety began to spike.

“Fuck, Ellie.” I spit, annoyed that she would do this— bring herself to me like a wounded animal that was edging death.

I placed the blood soaked towel firmly against the gash, grabbing her hand and placing it on top, “Just hold pressure, ok?”

She didn’t answer, instead her sad eyes just searched my face.

“Ok?” I asked again, squeezing her hand over the rag, finally earning a nod.

I quickly left her side, my blood stained hands digging through every drawer and cupboard in my bathroom, desperately searching for even the bare minimum.

This isn’t how I thought I’d see Ellie again, if I ever did. I had finally been coming to reality with the fact that our last fight was going to be just that— the last one.

We had been acting like strangers for months, even before we had finally split ways. We were two hardheaded people that never wanted to give in to the other, and that was the final straw.

She was too reckless and hellbent on getting her way, while showing little regard for her own safety. But god forbid I was even an ounce of that. I slip outside of Jackson’s walls for one night and you would’ve thought I betrayed thousands of years of trust— that I had been dangling myself over a cage of hungry tigers.

Ever since that last fight we’ve been distant, although I know she’s still around, bribing lookouts to keep watch over my whereabouts.

She was never as secretive as she thought, but I wasn’t willing to fight it because I knew it was keeping her sane.

Tearing through the bathroom, I finally come out with half a bottle of rubbing alcohol in one hand and a mess of string and needles in another.

She lets out a shaky breath as I remove her hand and the towel simultaneously, revealing the oozing wound. I screw off the lid of the clear bottle as she steadies herself once more, giving me a nod.

“Shit- fuck!” She swears as the stinging liquid pours over her bloodied thigh.

Her pain makes my heart ache, apologies coming like whimpers, “I’m sorry-“

“No, you’re ok— fuck-” she attempts to reassure through the pain, “I’m fine-“

“No Ellie, you’re literally not fine!” I cut her off, my frantic shaky hands now struggling with the thread and needle, “You’re nearly bleeding out on my kitchen table and I don’t even know what happened, I just-“ I stop my own ramblings, taking a long breath out, “Please.”

“I’m sorry.” She lets out softly as I pull up a chair beside her, beginning to line up the needle with the wound.

With little to no training, I begin stitching closed the gash, earning more hisses and strained swears. I wince with each needle poke I make, my heart breaking every time I cause Ellie pain, and she notices.

“You’re doing great.” She lets out between swears.

I sigh, quickly wiping away a fallen tear with the back of my hand before finishing the final stitch. It looked a mess and amateur, but it would hold her together.

“Come on.” I spoke lightly, standing up and allowing her to steady.

We hobbled our way to the bathroom before I sat her down on the edge of the tub and began running the bath.

We didn’t speak, allowing the roar of the filling tub to take over the silence. Piece by piece I removed her remaining bloodied clothes, beginning with the top that I slowly peeled from her torso, revealing another, less dramatic wound. And then her underwear and socks, leaving a visibly broken, tired Ellie in front of me.

She grabbed my hand as I began to walk away, hoping to quickly tidy the mess that was made as the bath filled, but immediately losing interest as she looked up at me, doe eyed.

I caved, being pulled in while her face nuzzled up against my stomach, my hands gently brushing through her tangled, messy hair.

I loved Ellie— the time we spent apart, the time we spent without saying a word to each other, the time we spent hurling hateful words at each other, it didn’t change the love. The majority of the time, it was out of love. But we both carried so much pain that we didn’t know how to properly deal with. We hurt each other in an unfortunate attempt at loving each other.

But it was so nice being with her again— feeling her touch. And although she was wounded in front of me, I wasn’t having to worry about her as I normally did. She was here, within my grasp, and she was safe.

I leaned down, kissing the top of her head as I pulled away, “Come on, the tub is full enough.”

She shifted on the edge of the tub, lifting her legs over as I helped lower her down into the warm water.

Kneeling down, I began lightly splashing water over her thighs, rubbing at them gently with a washcloth from the towel rack.

Her hands raised to my face, one holding it steady as she dipped the other in the water, bringing it back up and rubbing her thumb over my cheek. Back and forth, back and forth, dipping once more to remove what I expect was smeared blood, sweat, and tears. Quite literally.

I sighed in her embrace, our eyes locking and the world beginning to slow like it had so many times before. But I pulled away, shaking my head lightly as I continued running the wet cloth over her body.

“I can’t do this again, Ellie.” I breathed, sniffling inward and gently running the cloth over the wound on her stomach.

Her breathing hitched in her throat, either at what I had said, or from the sting of the cloth over the fresh wound, “What if it was different?” She questioned hesitantly, “We could be different-“

“No, Ellie— this.” I stopped her, ushering at her battered and bruised body, “You can’t show up here bleeding out and expect me to doctor you up.” I tried explaining, “It’s not good for me— my anxiety, I don’t want to see you like this.”

She hesitantly nodded, the conversation veering in a different direction, “Yeah— no, I’m sorry.”

I sighed, bringing the cloth up to her blood splattered face and rubbing gently. Her brows furrowed as she quietly grumbled under my touch, beginning to pout and pull away.

I don’t know if I wanted Ellie to be sorry, I don’t think that’s what I was looking for— an apology.

“But I do need you to stay here tonight…” I breathed, earning her full attention once again, “Just so I can keep an eye on you— make sure you aren’t getting into any more trouble.”

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips through the pain, “You sure you don’t miss taking care of me?”

“Scrapes and bruises are one thing, El. Being terrified I’m going to lose you on my kitchen table because you refuse to see the doctor… is something entirely different.” I answered honestly.

“I can’t go.” She mumbled, shaking her head and earning a confused look from myself, “They’ll take me off runs, Maria already said.”

“And would that really be so bad?” I asked, catching her glance again, her desire to be outside the walls playing heavily on why we would fight so often.

She scoffed.

“No Ellie, really,” I cupped her face, turning it back towards me, “Would it be?”

Her face twisted, pulling away from me as she struggled to stand, “I don’t want to do this.“

I let out a sigh of defeat, letting my hands drip over the tub as water fell dramatically from her body. It was happening again, the fights, the hard headedness— we were losing each other already.

I quickly stood, allowing her to steady herself against my shoulder, muffled swears leaving her lips.

“I’m sorry.” I spoke honestly, wrapping a towel around her shoulders before helping her step out.

She practically fell onto the closed lid of the toilet, her exhausted body giving out despite whatever angsty energy was fueling it. There was no use in talking about this anymore, and we both knew it. I wrapped the towel further around her as I went back over to dig through the bathroom cabinets once more, finding the last bit of supplies I’d need.

Again, I lowered to my knees, carefully inspecting her wounds before applying a generous amount of neosporin. My finger glided lightly over the stitched up mark on her leg, finding its way to the slice across her abdomen before I paused, my eyes carefully inspecting the rest of her body to make sure nothing was missed.

Glancing up for a second, our eyes met. There were still so many things we both wanted to say, but each time we tried, it always seemed to end poorly.

I gently began taping gauze down to her damaged skin, smoothing over it softly while checking my work. Taking care of Ellie felt like an art form, or maybe I just made it out to be. Heavily focused on what I was doing, I barely noticed as her hand neared, a gentle finger tucking a loose stand behind my ear.

Again our eyes met, “You’ll stay, right?” I asked, looking up at her from between her legs.

“Do I have a choice?” She joked flatly.

Between soft touches and playful words, I could see how drained Ellie was. Not only physically, which was very apparent, but also mentally. I wondered what she had been doing the past 3 months we hadn’t been together, besides working herself to death, I wondered if she thought about me the way I did her.

“Yeah.” I responded softly, my fingers rubbing short distances over her thigh, “I don’t want you staying here if there’s somewhere else you’d rather be— I’ll take you wherever it is.”

She gave me a confused look, “Where else would I rather be?”

I shrugged, letting out a sigh, “Ellie, we’ve been through a lot together, I won’t be upset if you’d rather not deal with any of this again.”

“Deal with any of what?” She pressed, as she always did.

I looked up at her through lashes that adorn tired eyes, “Me.”

“You?” She mocked, furrowing her brows at me.

I rolled my eyes, standing up. Clearly, even through the pain, she was more than willing to give me shit for trying to give her options other than ending up in my bed. I ransacked the medicine cabinet, looking for something to tide her body over for the night.

“Amoxicillin.” I muttered, opening the bottle to 4 pills left over, “Ok, I’ll stop by the doctor tomorrow to see if I can get another bottle for you, but we can start you on antibiotics tonight.”

I held out a pill, cradled between two fingers, before dropping it in her hand, “And then…” I hummed, going back over to the medicine cabinet, “We’ll double you up on Tylenol and Advil— see if that’s enough.” I thought out loud, shaking more pills into my hand, “If not, that doctor visit is gonna be a little trickier.”

I grabbed the cup next to the bathroom sink, filling it with water and passing it to her before excusing my self to the bedroom, pulling out something soft for her to wear— not that she ever used to wear much to sleep to begin with.

When I returned back, her tired, broken down frame was still sat where I left her— towel wrapped around her shoulders and eyes that followed my every move.

I set down the shorts on the counter, finding the neck hole of the shirt and pulling it over her head. She tiredly pushed her arms out of the sleeves, gazing up at me as I fixed her hair, pushing it behind her ears.

“Thank you.” She spoke softly, her hands drifting down my forearm and fiddling with my own.

I struggling with my mind, wondering if this was really something I wanted to start up again. I loved Ellie— everything about her, even the bad, but that doesn’t mean it was healthy. She made me feel safe, she made me feel loved, protected, wanted— all of it, but yet… I worried that still wasn’t enough for the both of us. When we fought, it was life altering— world shattering it felt. Like all of a sudden our perfectly curated world had not only cracked, but completely combusted. And then this? Just when I felt like I could possibly live with out her, without thinking about her every second of everyday, she shows up at my door asking me to stop her from bleeding out. I hate that she did it… but I love that she came to me.

I gave her a tight smile, the lack of sleep and crash of adrenaline catching up to me, kneeling down once again to help her slip the shorts on. It had felt like we’d been at this for hours at this point, and I didn’t dare look at the clock to confirm it. I slowly pulled her up with me, swears continuing to leave her lips as she favored her left side.

“You know, I have a joke for all of this.” She muttered out, “But I’ll save it for when I don’t feel like possibly throwing up or passing out.”

I rolled my eyes, an exhausted scoff following, “Ok well, please tell me if you’re about to do either.”

The walk to the bedroom was more of a hobble, but we eventually made it there. For a second, I was finally able to let out a sigh of relief— Ellie was safe, she was alive, and she was back in our bed.

Admittedly, I’d been sleeping in Ellie’s spot ever since she left, but I was more than willing to give it back to her if it meant I never had to worry about where she was.

I helped her pull up the covers, making sure she was comfortable, before I turned away to head back into the bathroom. This place now looked like some sort of crime scene, but I’d be lying if I said that’s what was pulling me into another room.

Honestly, I was teetering on the edge of a full breakdown and it wasn’t something I needed to add onto Ellie’s plate.

But her fingers intertwined with mine, stopping me in my tracks, “You’re laying down with me, right?” She asked, starting to push herself up through painful swears.

I nodded quickly, turning back before crawling over her, a smile creeping onto her face as she laid herself back down. Within seconds though, her smile faded and I knew she knew.

She cupped my face and I nearly melted into her grip, exhausted tears slipped through my lashes.

“Baby-“ she cooed, her tone helpless as she pushed herself up, as painful as it was.

I desperately tried to wipe at my eyes, but she beat me to it, “I- please-“

Ellie pulled my face to hers, our lips connecting and the room going quiet— quiet between whimpers cut off by passionate, quick kisses.

“I’m ok, I’m here.” She repeated softly, “I’m here.”

“Just promise me you’ll stay.” I nearly begged, hands tightly gripping her wrists, “Promise me.”

“I’ll stay.” She said almost immediately, like it was the answer to my survival, “I promise.”

[pianocat939]

I just finished watching the movie , and now I’m wondering what if Yandere romantic Leo either rivals or working together with platonic Yandere Casey jr with a reader who acts motherly to them HCs please if possible thank u 💕

It's 2 AM and I stayed up the night before so this is all sleep-deprived writing.

This is kinda long so prepare your attention span. Also I didn't add much motherly aspects only because I focused more on their rivalry between each other rather than their reactions to MC.

Tw: Manipulation, Mentions of trauma (not that surprising lmao), just a younger father and son having a cat fight

Rivalry with Romantic Yandere Leo and Platonic Yandere Casey Jr. with Motherly MC Hcs

(Jfc that's a long-ass title. Also gonna confirm that although motherly and such terms are used but MC is gender-neutral as always).

If someone were to summarize the rivalry between the two it's really bickering back and forth until push comes to shove. I suppose the level of severity can differ based on their relationship (as in what point of the movie/or how long they've known each other).

I'm gonna use the plot of the movie because the plot of the movie.

At the start, before Casey even arrives at the lair, Leo's "unhinged" feelings haven't awakened yet. He harbours romantic attraction but has no urge to be crazy.

He flirts with you, but of course, he's a dumbass sometimes and ends up being the flustered one.

Then, Casey arrives. Let's just say in the future, you're the other substitute parent of Casey. So obviously he's gonna be clingy in the first place.

Casey will praise you for being so nice/caring/mom-like and is giddy. Meanwhile, Leo's frozen, resting face is present, his thoughts like 'This random dude with a photo of us is talking to my crush?' or 'Am I not the center of attention now?'.

During the interrogation, he'll ask Casey "Who does Y/n get married to?" very quietly though. His presence is slightly threatening, enough that Casey dislikes it.

The boy won't answer, and instead say, "He's nothing like you." *Cue intense glaring from both of them*.

The reason why Casey doesn't approve of current-time Leo is because Dilf Future Leo has manipulated future you to the point of acceptance. So, Casey has a very engraved view of what his secondary parents act and look like.

Present Leo gives murderous and unsettling vibes to Casey that he feels he needs to block off whoever this phony is.

Leo, who has newly unlocked his darkest feelings, doesn't like the attention being stolen from him. He's the only one you should rely on! Not this weird kid that oddly enough has a family picture of not just the group but also you + him!

Ok, I'm done with that proportion of the rant.

How will the two express their feelings/thoughts? Leo, who's opened a new eye to reality, will pull his usual card, manipulation. Meanwhile, Casey is like a clingy child who won't let his parent be taken away from him but is more mature obviously.

Throughout the plot, Leo will try to use his familiarity as an advantage saying things like, "I don't think we should use his plan, since we don't really know him that well." Casey, who's intelligent enough to see through the manipulation, blocks the comment. "Look, I know the Kraang better than you, so we'll have a higher chance of success if we use my plan."

Skip to the part where the group gets split up. You're with the 'B' team and like in the movie, Leo and Casey are stuck together. Casey says the trauma lines but at the end of it he'll point out how Leo is nothing like Future Leo (like goes into much more detail). This breaks Leo and starts a whole era of war between the two.

When you guys reunite they're gonna be clinging to your back, insulting each other quietly. If you try to ease the rising tension they're pulling a whole 180. Praise and compliments all the way.

After all the self-sacrifice shit and like everybody going through hell, they can't seem to detach themselves.

Surprisingly enough the two start to tolerate and work together more. As they see a common purpose: keep you safe. However, when it comes to attention, they're going at each other's throats.

In a humorous scenario, Leo's trying to flirt and be all lovey-dovey but Casey is asking for head pats and hugs which leaves Leo unable to succeed through his awkward methods of romance.

As a small bonus, if only the three of you are in a specific place Casey might call you and Leo "Dad/papa" and "(preferred parental name)". This triggers Leo's ego as he realizes that he is in fact the spouse.

People that crush on Dilf Leo are just people who like his triple-layer forehead wrinkles. Convince me otherwise.

——————————————————

I desperately need to sleep...Wanted to write this before I do.

- Celina

[secretwhumplair]

Healing

1,089 words | Heir apparent (sequel to Rescue)

Content | Sleep deprivation, painful medical care, starvation, past parental abuse, whumper turned caretaker, bruises, implied past caning

Notes | Taba is acting weird.

Taglist | @whumpycries @whatwhump

Sharru dozed off by the time his parent had mended his ribs, finally allowing him to breathe without their crushing pain. He shifted back and forth between consciousness and inquiet dreams enough to feel the cool, yet still burning touch of a wet washrag on his open wounds; to whimper at the magic travelling down the cut on his face, where the skin was so sensitive the heat did hurt; to notice himself being turned over onto his belly. Once, he thought someone entered and exchanged brief words with his parent.

They were still here, then. It was still them caring for him.

The thought was so surreal it might as well have been part of his confused dreams when he finally slipped fully into sleep.

He woke to the sight of his parent sitting next to his bed, asleep. They had never needed much sleep; Sharru knew all too keenly, because while they had begrudgingly accepted the fact that a child needed more, he had been expected to keep their hours for years now. They must have stayed awake and watched over him for - well, there was no telling how long. He barely even had an idea what time of day he had been carried out of that horrible place.

He was too distraught to say whether he was touched, or confused, or scared of what this might mean, but his body protested there were more pressing matters at hand anyway. His stomach was hurting so badly with hunger that it took him several breaths to realize most of his other pains were gone. A bunch of lesser bruises were left, without doubt to teach him, but aside from the hollow in his belly and the most likely related lightness in his head he was certainly functional.

He started crying again at the thought even as he worked himself up into a sit. He didn’t want to - oh, he hadn’t cried so easily in years, why now when he had already failed so badly? - but the tears just welled up.

Just the right moment for his parent to wake. He looked down as they scrutinized him, taking stock of his faults.

He was dizzy just from sitting up; it couldn’t wait - fainting wouldn’t speak in his favour. »Parent, I’m starving.« His voice came out awfully thin.

»When did you last eat?«

He shook his head and regretted it immediately, he nearly toppled over. »I - I haven’t.« He didn’t even know how long he had been there. But they would - it might not be for his sake, but they wouldn’t be so careless as to lose track of time.

»Wait here.«

He was supposed to sit up straight, but when they exited, he hunched over, leaning on his knees; he felt so feeble. How long had it been since he had last eaten? His captors had given him water once or twice - it took a while before they had broken him down enough for him to drink from the bowl on the floor they taunted him with, accompanied by their jeers. Given how little was enough to keep him alive through his captivity… it couldn’t have been that long.

That was worse. He just would look all the more pathetic to his parent, having turned into this crying wreck so quickly.

He didn’t hear them enter soon enough to sit up, and for a moment, he feared they would withhold the food they had brought as a punishment. But that was irrational. They didn’t want him to starve. His punishment would come later.

»Eat slowly,« they said, and that was cruel enough. They didn’t even pass him the bowl of stew, just the spoon, ready to pull away when-

»Slowly,« they reiterated, doing just that.

He couldn’t help the tears spilling over, furious and desperate. »Please-«

»You haven’t eaten in eight days,« they said, as evenly and coolly as ever. »I’m not letting you kill yourself.«

He could hear the reproach in their voice and forced a breath, forced a »I’m sorry.«

They let him finish the bowl; apparently he had managed to exhibit sufficient self-control, even though he didn’t know how, even though he was crying, even though he wanted to scream for the precious food they were tormenting him with.

It was a small portion, but it felt better than anything he could think of. He wanted more, but there was no point in asking. He just had to be grateful for the food he had been given; grateful to have been saved at all; grateful for the canteen of water they gave him now.

»Sit up.« They set the bowl aside.

It was, he thought bitterly, more surprising they hadn’t demanded it sooner. He didn’t know how he could possibly explain himself to them, when he had slept and eaten and drunk and even been healed from the worst of his injuries - how he could explain how exhausted he still felt in his soul, how terrified and lost and utterly unable to be the prince.

They wouldn’t care.

»I can’t.« Maybe he could do this little thing. But he would reach his limit all too soon, so why not safe himself the trouble? He would be punished regardless.

He waited for their reaction. There were still canemarks on his body, albeit no more bloody ones, so hopefully they would refrain from caning him. One time they had, by their sorcery, given him a headache that lasted for three days. That would work, even in the state he was in. There was an ugly laugh stuck in his throat as he caught his own thoughts, doing their parent’s work for them.

»Then lay down.«

Confused, he obeyed. That was easier, even though he dreaded what might come next.

Sure enough they promptly put their hands on him, right where the remaining bruises were, vivid splotches all over his ribcage.

But they didn’t hurt him.

Without commentary, they healed what injuries had been left. Mere bruises he would have suffered through in his daily duties, canemarks the likes of which they had inflicted plenty of themself over the course of his life. Nothing that should have stopped him from functioning.

Nothing that he would have expected them to see a reason to help him with.

Looking at them properly for the first time since they had come to get him, he realized he had never seen them look quite so weary - their sharp eyes tired, their mouth twisted into more than just their usual half-frown.

Something was different.

[mydeardahlia]

LOVEBUG - Miguel O'Hara x Spiderwoman!OC

A/N: Still figuring out a convenient layout... sorry for the amount of edits TT

Part 1 | Next Part

Chapter 2: Canon Event

Times Square: a place nowhere near the list of Dahlia’s go-to hangout spots despite working only a few blocks away. She aimlessly wandered throughout the streets in the late afternoon swinging from building to building when she had nothing else to do. When she requested her manager to increase her hours it barely left a taint in her daily schedule. For the past week she was spotted more frequently and way earlier in the day. The steep decline of criminal activity pushed Dahlia to engage in her community, it was a bad habit of isolating herself that she desperately wanted to change. It was true that everyone was curious about the partly masked vigilante who saved the city from the collapsing bridge. She pulled the door open at a local cafe where the customers fixed their gaze onto her, taking note as she welcomed herself inside. 

After she approached the employee at the counter relaying her order, Dahlia placed herself by the wall deeply engrossed in thought. The coffee she requested was ready five minutes later with the barista placing the cup at the nearby counter for her to retrieve. She stood up pushing in the chair trailing across the room to grab the warm cup. The waitress shuffled behind the counter right when Dahlia was about to sit back down, the same barista who made her coffee. She clasped her hands together, a warm smile radiating from her face as if she had been expecting her.

“You’re Lovebug! The woman that’s been saving the city,” she appeared friendly, smile growing visibly wider with curiosity. Noticing that she was itching for a response Dahlia nodded her head, holding it down in embarrassment. 

“It’s nice to meet you! Thank you for the coffee.”

“Duh it’s my job,” she said with a playful eye roll bursting into giggles. Dahlia tried to keep her cool as she continued praising her, “Thank you for everything you did that day. My sister was on the bridge– you saved her life. I don’t know where we would’ve been without your heroism.”

“Of course, it’s no big deal. I’m really glad she’s okay.”

“She’s doing great because of you! If you need anything let me know,” she waved a final goodbye before taking another customer’s order. The rest of the customers who were secretly overhearing their conversation began whispering to gossip amongst themselves– stressing her out even further. She gave a nod before walking out of the cafe pushing open the door with her hip. 

There was a nearby park Dahlia stumbled across after being outside for twenty minutes. Now having a moment alone she was sitting on an empty bench at the basketball court. Sip after sip the scene playing in her head repeatedly.

Overwhelmed, stressed, sleep deprived, and scared. All she did was hyperfocus on the incident, strategizing ways she could’ve changed the past. Her own mother was lying down in the operating room inside. She ended up in a critical condition after the accident– a crazed man rampaging the city in an act of greed attempting to take over. A violent attack was planned at a shopping plaza downtown which caused the building to ignite in flames. It was Dahlia, who as Lovebug, had to think of a quick solution at the last minute. Thankfully, the disaster was over since the man quickly got caught by Dahlia who turned him in. Unfortunately, her mother was among the several others who were gravely injured. 

The rest of her family stood outside the room and Dahlia sat on the bench nearby. When some more time passed the doctors were sure of her fate– it was then that everyone realized she was gone. Dahlia’s tears fell to her lap and her hands kept shaking in anger mixed with sadness. Her rest of the family kept their heads low trying to process the terrible news. She died. The woman who raised her passed. Dahlia’s entire world snapped in two. 

The cup Dahlia was drinking from was empty, so she put it in the trash can to properly dispose of it. A portal opened and a familiar face walked through alone. It was Miguel. Ever since she joined the Spider-Society she had been completing several missions with him in particular. She was still considered new to the society and hadn’t met anyone else. For one approaching people wasn’t something she enjoyed, and secondly most were either busy or in their respective universes. “What are you doing out here?” The sight of her sitting down not appearing to be busy troubled him. He stood in front of the bench closely inspecting her. Dahlia felt his stare and hid her face in a lazy attempt to get Miguel to change the subject. Unluckily for her he wouldn’t budge, “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright,” her words murmured, sitting still on the bench. “Don’t worry about it. What’s up?”

“Listen, I want you to come with me. There’s something we need to take care of.”

Miguel didn’t explain further, the portal opened and he urged her to follow along. When she fell through she felt a sudden rush in her entire body and before she knew it they were at their new destination. Miguel took a step forward to look around checking his watch periodically to make sure he was in the right location. Dahlia caught herself from zoning out, she had to jog behind him the second he got too far.

“How bad is it?”

“Not too sure but we found an anomaly in this universe. Earth 30560. A bug-like creature wandered its way in,” his slowed down, catching a glimpse of the empty alleyway in front of them. Miguel instinctively put his arm in front of Dahlia stopping her in her tracks. “Be careful,” he glanced down at her double checking then continued to walk down. Dahlia crept steadily beside him mentally preparing herself for what was about to come. Miguel began grumbling to himself, beginning to get impatient, when a sloshing sound could be heard in the distance. She scoped out the entire area checking the source of the noise and caught sight of an enormous bug-like creature crawling down the wall. The creature appeared similar to a grasshopper– except abnormally large with a blueish purple hue rather than a bright green. The creature’s eyes were glowing and its arms and legs were almost human-like. The anomaly took flight towards them heading at Miguel specifically. Dahlia had to act fast, reaching her arms out by reflex while jumping in front of him. At the moment she clasped her hands together the bug started to compress bit by bit. In a flash she pulled back one of her hands causing a sharp jerk movement to the bug rendering it unconscious. Miguel then swooped in, tying the creature with a glowing red rope. Dahlia’s head started to ring due to the excruciating headache. The pain was getting worse and she collapsed to the ground as a result, “Damn it.”

“Dahlia…,” he turned his attention away from the creature sauntering towards her. Dahlia was on the floor holding her head with both of her hands. “You alright? Speak.”

“I…” Dahlia tried to talk but the stinging sensation rose up again. Her head was aching, meanwhile her ears felt like they were popping off of her face similar to a plane about to land, “I’m sorry. I strained my powers at the end. I acted before thinking and–”

“Yeah yeah whatever. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered. Dahlia hated when the attention was on her. It wasn’t like she was helpless or felt weak but she did want to be taken seriously if she was going to be a part of this group. Using her legs she sprouted herself off the ground dusting herself off. Miguel nodded, pressing the watch device on his wrist. “Lyla, I took care of it.”

A hologram, favoring a woman with short hair and heart shaped glasses appeared near his shoulder. “You mean Dahlia took care of it?” she said in a playful voice. He began to scowl, picking up the creature and opening a quick portal to send it back to its home dimension.

“Shut up.” Dahlia held back a laugh with her hand covering her mouth. Miguel caught a glimpse of her smile, pausing a bit before resuming his serious facade. “We’re done here anyway,” he mumbled to himself, the portal opened and he trailed off with Dahlia dashing in behind him.

After traveling back to headquarters Dahlia found herself in Miguel’s office again. When she first walked in she noticed another spider woman standing idly when the two entered. Her short dark hair and goggles were similar to the visor Dahlia wore. The only difference was hers were yellow while Dahlia’s were pink. 

Dahlia trailed behind Miguel quietly. He turned his head to her waiting to see if she would introduce herself. Dahlia couldn’t utter a single word, her eyes immediately froze up and she started to stand still. From her perspective talking to one other person wasn’t the worst thing in the world. What she hated the most was the more people involved the more impossible it became to navigate. Her mood turned sour after their recent mission, her headache worsened as it was a full blown migraine. When he saw the pained look on her Miguel let out a low grumble before taking the initiative and introducing her himself, “Jess, this is Dahlia. She’s the one I told you and Peter about. Dahlia, meet Jess.” “It’s great to meet you,” she leaned out her hand. Dahlia nodded along, shaking it firmly, her voice frail as she began to speak, “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Is everything okay? You seem out of it.”

Before Dahlia could think of an answer Miguel cut her off narrowing his eyes at her. “She has a headache. Or a migraine. I don’t know! I kept asking about it on the way here multiple times but she told me the same thing.” He began to walk away from them heading towards the screens towards the other side, “You can show her around and take her to the infirmary.”

“We should go,” Jess began to walk out, urging Dahlia to follow her to get medicine. She peered over behind her at the sight of Miguel’s eyes lingering on her. Their eyes met and Miguel swung his body around with quickness– like he didn’t want her to see that from him. She redirected herself, rushing away before he could get the chance to follow up with another remark. 

She alongside Jess were on a stroll, Dahlia observing the vast amount of spider people surrounding them. Some resembled each other almost identically and some others had completely different appearances. Her suit stood out compared to the majority; wearing a heart-shaped web covering the chest area on her light pink bodysuit. The visor she typically wore on her face was also pink with an intricate spider web design engraved onto them. Was she overthinking about this for the tenth time? She shook herself off adjusting her visor by pushing it closer to her face. Jess looked sideways at her, noting Dahlia’s constant fidgeting and spacing out, “Are you often this quiet?” 

Her eyes met Jess’ gaze nodding her head as a response, “Kind of, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you back there.”

“It’s fine. You didn’t offend me at all.”

“I’m…” not being able to finish her sentence she let out a frustrated sigh, slowing down her pace, “I don’t know–”

“What do you not know?”

“The entire point of me being here. Not literal but in a metaphorical way.”

Jess shrugged her shoulders tilting her head to the side. She moved over in front of Dahlia, “Do you often feel out of place?” Yes. All the time. Dahlia couldn’t remember a time where she wasn’t. Not even related to her being Lovebug specifically but her other duties as well. Trying to move forward with her professional career while finishing her master’s only added on to the stress outside of her secret identity. This unnerving feeling she would get would keep her up at night. What would Dahlia’s life be like ten years from now? How long before it was all over? Would her journey be cut short?

The two arrived at the infirmary and after Dahlia took medicine for her migraine she sat down on one of the beds. She was given crackers to snack on for her rest by Jess who stood near her to ensure that she was comfortable. They were quiet for a few minutes before a man stumbled in. When he noticed Jess his eyes lit up making his way near the bed the pair were hanging out at. He saw Dahlia while shifting his attention smiling wide as this was his first time meeting her in person.

“You must be Dahlia, I’m Peter. Peter B. Parker.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I hope you feel better,” he kept the same smile on his face, Dahlia thought seemed nice enough. She only had more questions after meeting them– if both Peter and Jess were aware of who she was then how often did Miguel talk about her? In Miguel’s own words, her “canon event” occurred due to the death of her mother so she couldn’t have possibly been perceived as an immediate threat. If that were true it also wouldn’t make sense for Miguel wouldn’t spend so much time on going on missions with her. Maybe her powers could’ve been what interested him or at least part of the reason he recruited her. Dahlia didn’t know much about the spider that bit her nor its origin– she wasn’t even aware if there was an organization that conducted such experiments. She tried her own research in the past but either reached a dead end or forgot about it because of her other obligations. Hell if Miguel knew anything she better know as well.

In-the-meantime, Miguel used every screen in his office available to find additional information regarding Dahlia. His curiosity peaked at the worst time, Miguel hated to admit it but he was confused by her. Her personality was delicate as a flower yet changed drastically when he was almost attacked and she instinctively ran to protect him. Strange how anyone could’ve done the same yet he fixated only on her in particular.

“You seriously don’t believe this is excessive? What are you going to do with this information anyway? Confront her about it?” Lyla asked. Miguel tried to ignore her but he responded back defensively, “It’s not for any particular reason, it just interests me.”

“What interests you?”

Miguel didn’t answer and ignored Lyla. He started to research different labs in the Manhattan area in Dahlia’s universe, what could their end goal be experimenting on these spiders? Her powers were indeed useful but there were clearly serious limitations that came with it. Miguel just wanted to figure it out for himself.

Later on Dahlia remained in the infirmary, napping as soon as she felt tired enough to rest. Her eyes fluttered open slowly sitting herself up on the bed. Peter and Jess weren’t there, most likely leaving before or while she fell asleep. She rubbed her eyes and grabbed her visor trudging out of the infirmary. Dahlia let out a sigh of relief her migraine finally went away but the grogginess lingering. Just as she was about to leave Miguel stood in front of her– his face looked calmer than before and he appeared to be less tense. 

“Hey?” Dahlia eyebrows raised in confusion. What did he want now? She had no idea. Every once in a while he would approach her although the topics were strictly work related. It was nice getting to know at least one person here as stubborn as Miguel was. 

“Relax, Dahlia. I’m only trying to make sure you’re okay.” “I said I was fine,” she stared down at the ground before mumbling her voice, “I don’t see why you care so much…”

“What’d you say?” his eyes squinted, peering down attempting to get a glimpse of her facial expression. In reality he knew what she was implying but he didn’t want to process it. Deep down it almost hurt his feelings in a way, of course he was aware of how blunt he came off but was she really that intimidated by it? 

“Nothing,” her voice squeaky. Miguel thought she was annoyed but she yawned before looking up at him. Miguel brushed it off. Dahlia still seemed tired– maybe she was the type to be cranky after a nap, “I need to go home now. I have work coming up soon.”

“I’ll take you.”

“Again? I can’t be that special– is this something you regularly do for others?”

“Not all the time. Why is it that weird?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“Let’s just go,” Miguel rolled his eyes, moving past her. Dahlia laughed to herself before trailing behind him, the two continuing their lengthy conversation. She found it strange how things were slowly changing during a small amount of time. Back at home she didn’t have acquaintances, yet she got along better with Miguel more than her own family. Dahlia couldn’t wrap her head around how out of all the people in the world he was starting to become her first acquaintance. Then what’s next? First friend? It only made Dahlia want to know what would happen then but as far as she was concerned, she was nowhere close to that point. Not in a million years. 

A/N: Tysm for reading!!! <3 I'll try to keep this frequent as possible!

[epikhightechnology]

@kissporsche

I am sleep deprived and my mind is a mess so this might not make a whole lot of sense. Esp if you're not familiar with the musical. Do not expect greatness cause you wont find it lol

The story begins not with Pete or Vegas but with Porsche because he is Christine in this au. He joins the Opera House owned by idk.. Italians or something, as a dancer. All the bodyguards are ballet dancers in this universe (imagine Big as a ballet dancer and cry with me). They’re trained by Chan (madame Giry. Fits perfectly if you ask me). Porsche quickly becomes best pals with a fellow dancer Pete, they might even live together like in the show.

The Phantom is obviously Vegas. He has the mask and everything cause his asshole dad mutilated him when he was a kid and made him join the circus to earn money. It’s all very tragic and sad really. He spends years being laughed at till one day he’s done with it. He kills his dad and escapes. I’m imagining rain and thunder and tears and then finally peace and quiet that he finds in the basement of an old opera house. He puts on the mask & becomes the Phantom over several years, spending his days tormenting the owners of the opera and writing music in his dungeons. Living his best life lol

Back to the present. One day as Vegas is wandering the hallways like the creep he is, he hears Porsche singing and gets inspired. He is like omg I can make that man a star and make him sing my music. (Also the current primadonna sucks and their singing makes Vegas’ head hurt… lets say it’s Tawan cause we hate him lol. Vegas has been trying to get rid of the bastard for a while now) It’s going great - Porsche is easy to manipulate cause of his childlike dreams of an angel of music that his dead father (or mother?) would send him. Also Porsche is hot and kind and Vegas is kinda delulu for him. He hasn’t had any human contact for years and he is desperate for some love. Porsche gives him a taste of it cause he thinks Vegas is an angel so he speaks with affection to him. Porsche’s bestie Pete notices something is off and keeps an eye out but doesn’t do anything for now, cause Porsche seems to be doing well even if he’s acting a lil weird. Also who could imagine the reality of the situation lol. Pete does see more than the rest tho, he has seen Vegas in the shadows before, but he doesn't connect the dots. Yet.

Then out of nowhere the Italians decide to sell the opera house to Tankhun. Yes Tankhun cause imagine him running an opera. And Arm or something cause he needs a partner. Oh maybe Tay? Idk this needs more thought than I’m capable of at the moment. Anyways.. Vegas is mad cause Tankhun is even worse at running the opera than the previous owners. Even so he does manage to get rid of Tawan and get Porsche on stage, but then fucking KINN shows up and is like hot diggity dog.. Porsche is hot and I love him and Porsche loves him back (they are childhood friends like Christine and Raoul), which simply makes Vegas lose his last marble. He’s been spending months at this point teaching and seducing Porsche and it's taken a lot of work to get Porsche on stage and he’s not about to let Kinn steal him so he goes and kidnaps him (porsche). Takes him to his dungeon and tries to convince him that life there with him could be kinda nice. Cause look at all the good he's done for him. Porsche is listening till his curiosity wins and he tears Vegas' mask off and is disgusted much like Christine the first time she saw the Phantom’s face. Vegas is hurt and lets him go. Convinces himself that Porsche just needs more time, that he just needs to try a little harder. That he has to work more to get that love that he craves.

Porsche is traumatised after the kidnapping. Pete is worried, he sees that something is really wrong even though Porsche doesn't tell him what exactly happened. Kinn is an oblivious idiot, who at this point only cares about this Phantom dude sending everyone threatening notes lol. He and Tankhun decide to disobey everything Vegas is asking for and let Tawan back on stage which leads to no good. Vegas snaps and kills someone. Porsche runs to the rooftop, Kinn follows, they confess to each other and kiss and Vegas’ heart breaks and he brings down the chandelier.

Pete our best boy who has been watching everything go down from the sidelines is like ok this has turned from weird to FUCKED & he decides to investigate. Cause he is a sneaky lil guy and doesn’t like it when his friends get hurt for no good reason. He takes it upon himself to go find this opera ghost and stop him. He finds the entrance to the dungeons behind Porsche’s mirror and goes down there. In the dungeon he is greeted by a very sad scene of Vegas crying his heart out. What a pathetic creature. Except the creature is insane and once he notices and catches Pete he ties him up and spews all his anger and sadness on him. Vegas thinks Pete is a nobody whom no one will miss (and sadly he’s somewhat right) (but Vegas does know who Pete is cause he knows everything) and decides to keep him there to torment while he wallows in his sadness. Very unfortunately the rest of the opera don’t even notice Pete is gone (they’re too busy fixing things and getting their shit back together and Porsche is too busy with Kinn). After a few days of silence they’re thinking - finally we pissed off the phantom so much that he left. When in reality Vegas is planning his revenge. Pete is trying his best to convince him to leave Porsche alone cause obviously Porsche doesn’t like him back but Vegas being the man he is can not let his grudge go. And even though he doesn’t even like Porsche much anymore (cause his heart is opening up to someone else), he wants to take revenge on Kinn.

There’s mad tension between VP. Pete isn’t afraid of what's underneath Vegas’ mask because he has his own scars too. Both physical and emotional. They do share asshole fathers in every universe. They bond over it. And Vegas gets a glimpse under Pete's mask when he notices the way Pete reacts to him and his anger. Something inevitably does happen between them but it doesn't lead to any good because Vegas still thinks he is unlovable (boy thinks love has to be earned and is going about it in all the wrong ways) and he is obsessed with his revenge plot; and Pete our dear Pete thinks Vegas is in love with Porsche cause he thinks himself unlovable too.

The masquerade happens (oh imagine how happy Tankhun would be to throw this party), Vegas crashes it and promises to bring everything down unless they perform his opera. Realising all his efforts to change Vegas' mind have been in vain and Vegas still cares more abt Porsche than him, Pete escapes to go warn his friends about his actual plans. In a way he also rejoins the masquerade when he returns to his life. There is much to be said about masks and stuff in this au but again - my brain has not the capacity to do it rn. Finding out Pete is gone makes Vegas even madder cause he does feel things for him even if he's in denial about it. Cause Pete is the only person ever to not flinch when Vegas looks at him. There's that kindness he's been looking for in Pete but he doesn't let himself see it.

Kinn comes up with his shit plan to catch the Phantom despite Pete’s arguments that it won’t work. The opera happens and everything goes to shit. Vegas once again kidnaps Porsche. Kinn shows up at the dungeon and gets almost killed. They are yelling at each other when Pete arrives. He overhears Vegas making Porsche choose between him and Kinn and he can't take it anymore. He goes all out along the lines of 'you stupid moron, I love you, i can't sing, I'm a shit dancer but I love you and why am I not enough???' Like why is Porsche the end goal here when he obviously hates Vegas? Vegas, Porsche and Kinn are dumbfounded at this. Vegas didn’t really believe that Pete would like him for real. but pete goes on about how vegas ripped pete's mask off and now he's gonna leave him stranded in this world when they could have something together and for what?? It takes vegas a moment to understand what's happening. Kinn uses the opportunity and shoots or stabs or whatever Vegas, takes Porsche and runs. Porsche asks Pete to come with them but he refuses. Kinn is a dick and he drags Porsche away. Pete holds Vegas very fairytale like, very tragic and beautiful. "Say you'll share with me one love, one life time, say the word and I will follow you.."

When the others come to the dungeon to get the phantom, they find it empty. Vegas and Pete have disappeared but they live. Away from all this, somewhere else. Maybe not happily ever after but they live.

Also korn doesnt exist in this universe cause fuck him