#i'm nervous ffs they aren't even real

[96blinde]

Pain: Everyone in/around MWIII when it's released.

[meltinghun]

A real gentleman ; Joseph Descamps.

summary: Joseph and Reader never got really along until something changed.

warnings: genderneutral!reader, enemies-to-lovers, idiots in love!!, Y/N mentions lol, just kiss already.

author's note: Hi! I wrote this bc I fell in love with Mixte 1963, and when I looked up for ffs, there were NONE, so I said, 'I'll take one for the team' and came up with this. Please keep in mind that I'm not a writer and english is not my first language, I'll appreciate it if you can point at any errors. <3

The chilly breeze hitted their faces, making them close their eyes momentarealy due to its force, breathing in the smell of wet soil mixed with the freshly made bread from the bakery a few houses down the road.

The day looked very promising; today they woke up a little bit earlier than usual, using the extra time to finish in advance some english homework assigned for the next week and even strarting a big upcomig proyect due to the end of the month, hearing the weatherman in the radio as a background noise, announcing that it was going to be an unusually warm day of autumn.

Everything seemed perfect, the subtle orange hue of the skyes illuminating their face as they walked and the soft rumbling of cars passing by the principal street made them feel like a character of one of those romantic movies they dearly love watching, a thought that felt reinforced when every leave they stepped on made a perfect crunch sound. A soft greeting left their lips when they walked past one of their neighbours who was heading out to work like many other people did at those hours.

It truly felt like a peaceful morning.

'You seem lost in thought. Are you daydreaming about me already?'

Until it wasn't.

They dedicated a slight scowl towards the person who dared to interrupt their peace and inhaled a big breath of air before answering.

'Not even in your greatest dreams, Descamps.' They made a condescending gesture with their hand. 'Now leave me alone, yeah? I was perfectly fine until you came with your annoying presence.'

A booming laugh abandoned his throat. 'Don't act so disinterested. I know you couldn't live without my annoying presence even if you wanted.'

Joseph Descamps. He was a classmate of theirs that took an interesting liking towards their persona, or how they liked to say, a liking towards making their life miserable.

Since the start of the year he took every possibility to annoy them out of their mind, it started with some snark remarks insulting their way of doing certain things and it slowly progressed to petty acts, such as slighty tugging their hair when passing each other, hide their belongings when they aren't looking and even blocking their path by standing in the entryways, smiling down at them while demanding a 'password' that changed every day. Just petty acts meant to be a pain in the head.

He was everything they couldn't stand: a bully with some serious narcissist tendencies who, on top of it all, loved to get a rise out of people by pushing their boundaries and provoking them in any possible way.

But even with that horrendous description, Y/N couldn't avoid that rare feeling at the bottom of their stomach whenever he was close. At first they thought that it was a reflect of how disgusted they truly felt by his persona and the gross acts he usually did, a few weeks later, that feeling was accompannied with their heartbeat increasing when they noticed that he was invading their personal space, but chalked it up as just being nervous of his tall frame hovering them like some sort of prey, that made total sense on their head. However, some days later, he did something that made them realise what they truly felt for the boy with the patch.

It started to rain towards the end of the day, exactly 15 minutes into their english class and the frustration was clearly palpable, it was so unexpected that nobody could've predicted it; what it seemed to be a passing grey cloud turned out to be a massive downpour, Y/N started to complain with their friends about how it was a shame that they chosed to use the new sweater their grandmother knitted for them and how sad it was that now it would get ruined under the relentless rain. When the class was over, they noticed how Joseph went outside the building running and disappeared behind the school gates. They thought it was really weird, but they knew better than to expect something coherent from him. Minutes passed and it seemed like the temporal was getting worse so a few people decided to just suck it up and walk under the cold rain, sighing for themselves and rapidly lamenting once more the lost of the sweater, they prepared to follow the steps of the brave mass of students when a breathless voice interrupted their movements.

'L/N, wait!' A disheveled and completely soaked Joseph made himself seen, his shout drawing attention to the both of them.

'What do you want now, Descamps? I'm already late to home, I don't need you keeping me here any longer than necessary.' They stated with a confused frown, curious as to why was he there but trying to mask it behind indifference.

A smirk made its presence on his sharp features. 'I know, but I couldn't just let you go like that under the rain, that wouldn't be so gentlemanly of me, don't you think?' From behind his back, he pulled a blue umbrella and extended it to a dumbfounded Y/N.

Was that really happening right now? Did the most annoying person they ever met just ran under the rain to bring them an umbrella? And not only that, but he somehow managed to get one with their favorite color, too. Did he just called it to be a mere gentlemanly act?

It might as well start raining cats and dogs.

They opened and closed their mouth, being left without anything to say for the first time, a half-hearthed chuckle interrumping their messy train of thought.

'I heard what you said about your sweater and how sad you would be if it got ruined.' They swore that their heart would get out of their chest for how hard it was beating. 'And I didn't want you to get heartbroken for it, so I thought that you could use one of these.'

He closed the distance that separated them by taking a few steps, reaching out for their free hand and making them hold the umbrella, the contact between their fingertips sparkling a something deep inside each other.

'I know we are supposed to not like each other, but let me be nice to you for once, please.' His eye shining with an intensity they couldn't explain. 'Don't worry, we can keep hating us tomorrow.' When he saw that they wouldn't object, he turned around and began walking outside, getting under the rain once more.

Feeling the heat creeping on their face and having found their voice, they asked out loud.

'How did you know?' His head turned around enough for them to see his face. 'How did you know that it's my favorite color?'

They knew that it could've perfectly been a mere coincidence, something insignificant that shouldn't be overly analized, but something told them that it wasn't like that. They really hoped it wasn't. And it was confirmed when he flashed them another one of his infamous smirks.

'Sometimes I listen to you more than i should.'

Since that very moment it's been really difficult to fight the involuntary smiles that made a way into their face when he unexpectedly tries to integrate them to a conversation by asking their opinion on a subject, or the feeling of warmth that invaded their chest everytime they made visual contact and let's not forget how everytime they both "accidentaly" brush hands Y/N had the extremely rare need to interlock their hands with him.

But after all, he was still Joseph Descamps, the attractive cocky idiot who is always up on some trouble that he himself seeked out.

'...-ou cold?'

They blinked repeatledly with confusion written all over their face, the taller boy smiling down at them for being able to catch them distracted.

'Huh?'

'I asked if you weren't cold.' He repeated the question slower, a soft look on his eye. 'You are shivering'.

If he didn't pointed it out, they wouldn't noticed that, in fact, they were shivering. The chilly air becoming colder than before making them lowly insult the unstable weather of the so-called "unusually warm day", having only a thin cardigan that didn't do much to help.

'It's nothing. The school's a few blocks ahead, and I can take a little bit of cold.' Grumbled under their breath, only to sneeze some moments later.

The boy snorted while shaking his head before swiftly taking off his coat and placing it on their sholders. 'You are not going to catch a cold, or at least not on my company.'

'You are being awfully nice to me lately.' In a slight moment of braveness, they blurted out the question that was tormenting their head. 'Are you flirting with me, Descamps?'

An incredulous look got settled in his face, and they regretted saying it immediately, wishing to come back on time to stop themselves and save them from the embarrassment. Did they read the signals wrong? Was he only trying to become their friend? Was he only being nice? Was he...?

'Yes! Thank you for finally noticing it, I was starting to think that you were cruelly ignoring my advances.' A beautiful and dashing smile was sent in their direction, the biggest they ever saw him smiling.

And it was because of them.

A shaky sigh left their lips accompanied by a nervous laugh, not realizing they were holding their breath, with equally shaky hands coming up their head to accommodate their hair on a jittery action.

'I... I didn't know, really. I had a slight impression, but I thought that I was imagining things.' They cleared their throat in an attempt to regain their cool and collected personality. 'So, when are you taking me on a date then?'

The slight quiver on their voice was noticed by the still very amused boy, who took mental notes on how cute they looked flustered and to try to do it again in the future when given the opportunity.

'Would you accept if I asked you to skip school with me and have a date right now? I don't think I can wait any longer.' He asked with a playful tone, typical of him.

They let out a snort. 'I would tell you that you are crazy if you think that I would do something as risky as that. But lucky for you, I'm free today, so meet me at the cinema at four o'clock.'

'Then I shall see you there.' Replied between soft laughs, not believing that this was really happening. 'Some recommendations for this poor soul?'

The open gates were a few meters ahead of them, the other students that hanged outside throwing curious and shocked looks on their direction when they noticed the much larger coat that lied on Y/N's shoulders and the flustered smiles on their faces.

'Yes, the most important thing, don't you dare being late. If I get there and I don't see you, you can even forget that we know each other.' He brought both hands up in the air in a sign of redemption. 'I'm serious about this. You'll regret it if you do.'

'I wouldn't even dare thinking about it, I'll let Magnan take my other eye before screwing my opportunity with you.'

Their eyes widened at the hidden seriousness of the statement and the simplicity with which he pronounced it, the sincerity of it all making their heart race like crazy. Slowly nodding their head while trying to gather their thoughts.

'Well, it's settled then, at fo-...'

'Four o'clock sharp, I couldn't forget even if I wanted to.' He made a pause, regaining his usual playfulness. 'Should I bring you flowers? I want to be a real gentleman with you.'

'Okay, now you are showing off that you know how to flatter someone, shut up.' Rolling their eyes with a smile, they started walking toward the gates, leaving him behind. 'And I like camellias, for your information.'

'I only wish to flatter you, nobody else!' He said loudly, making people start to whisper about the supposed swear enemies.

'You don't want to know.' Was the only thing they said, accompanied by a slight shrug of shoulders.

Trying to bite back a bigger smile they waved him off, getting closer to their friend group with each step they took, all of them looking the exchange with incredulous eyes, silently begging for an answer as to what just happened.

They never before wished that the day would end up sooner.

[logicalstansadvice]

Sorry to see this logical and reasonable blog receiving hate from the "worried" fans. I wish they were worried about Sebastian when they were dragging him on sm. Seems kind of hypocritical to me the way they act now, considering what they did to him and his close ones for the past 1.5y.

Anon 2: A girl on tik tok said she's concerned for him too, because he no longer takes care of himself: he was papped in the same pair of jeans two days in a row. Like, ffs.. He was on the set of Sharper? He's gonna wear what they tell him to wear...

Anon 3: Seriously this fandom actually has the nerve to pull out of their ass that 50 Shades of Worrying novel, after the shit they did to him for the last year and a half?

Anon 4: Why should Seb go back to who he was in 2016? He's fine as he is right now. Maybe it's fandom that needs to go back to 2016 (or before.)

Anon 5: Because they are abusive bastards. / Ain't that the truth. Many of them exhibit typical abusive behavior: they alternate the insults and attacks with claims to be "worried" and "concerned" about your well-being. Also, when abusers realize they can't control you and your life anymore, they try to control the image others have about you: you have mental health issues, addictions, nervous breakdowns, briefly, you're out of your mind and you don't know what you're doing without their control.

Anon 6: You gen Zs anons are so lame, you actually go and count likes, ffs who the hell cares???? If you see on Instagram a photo of a cute puppy with 2 likes and one with a poop with 100 likes, in your mind is the poop cuter/better/more interesting than the puppy, just because it has more likes? Because by your logic that would be the case. It's the content that matters not the number of likes. Try living in the real world for 5 min gen Zs. And I mean actually living, not going outside and keeping your eyes stuck in your phone on sm.

Anon 7: You know what I find hilarious? Pretty much the same fans (and blogs) who canceled him and harrassed him on sm are the ones who are now worried about him. Weren't they worried before when they were telling him to go kill himself unless he drops ale? How does one go from full on aggression to this exagerated concern? If he was indeed as unstable as they claim, it's their actions who would cause him to have a breakdown. Aren't they worried about that? I hope you post this. Hopefully, if they really are concerned, maybe they'll realize respect and empathy is something you give constantly, not just when the moods hits you.

Anon 8: /// They are fake worriers and know nothing about him. I saw an ask where someone said the "rumor" of him being Anastasia Soare's godson is a joke. Like really? You can fucking google it and you'd find her happy birthday messages to him signed "for sebastian stan my godson". So the facts that are actually real and documented, they dismiss as being fake.

Anon 9: Because they are stupid, that's why. I'm tired to try and find a logical or even illogical reason behind their lies. There aren't any valid reasons.

💄

[silviartemis]

Midnight JoJo and Race ramblings! (headcanons)

Maybe tw for some tragic backstory? (Mentions of death, abandonment trauma)

Oh this is so turning into a fic when I have time and brain. And again, longer than I expected it to be.

We know that JoJo grew up raised by the nuns, which had it's difficulties (that I'll explore elsewhere more in detail) but was also not so bad, especially compared to many other kids in the Lodge.

He was born in the convent cause his mother, who was alone in the world (very Fantine oooh that'd would make JoJo Cosette!) asked the nuns for help in the last months of pregnancy.

For the first years of his life she lived with him at the nunnery, working more hours than the clock to support him and pay something back to the nuns so they spent very little time together, but she was affectionate and loved him so much.

She died of illness and the sisters chose to let the 3yo kid live with them instead of sending him to an orphanage.

As I stated elsewhere Race was left in front of the church after a few months in the USA so let's say he was 6.

JoJo was coming back from the market or something with the nuns and they see this kid around his age sniffling on the steps.

And they take him in.

For a while Race is super scared and asks for his mom but JoJo makes it his job to make him feel better and soon they become close.

They have a very physical relationship because that's what they lacked most in their interactions with their caregivers (the nuns) and Race was used to constant touching and after the abandonment trauma he started to rely on it even more

It's very new for JoJo and a little confusing but he doesn't mind it, it's a way to show he cares. He starts to learn how to act around other children.

(don't expect these emotionally compromised bois to talk openly about feelings...)

Race stays with them for little more than a year but he can't stand all the rules and the lack of freedom and the relative isolation (and the lack of tangible affection), he begs JoJo to run away with him but he's too scared to leave the nuns who were all he had ever known. (They're like... 8? Race where the hell are you going?)

So Race runs away alone, he lands at the Lodging house and then he meets Albert and that's another story.

JoJo stays behind but he's starting to feel the same need to find a life outside the convent. So he represses it.

They don't see eachother again until they're both around 11.

JoJo has been helping the nuns to pay for their hospitality but now he's old enough to work (and needs to be socialized with other kids ffs), so he shows up at the gate and finds Race.

They are so happy to meet again (and a little nervous, at first), Race introduces him to all the other newsies (there's an awkward moment when Albert gets jealous and tries and absolutely fails not to show it).

During the following years (JoJo leaves the convent for good maybe a couple years later) their rekindled bond evolves:

They don't have an evident, emotional relationship, they're not attached at the hip like Race and Albert, but they have a fine attuning to the other's needs, they pay a lot of casual attention to their well being.

They're always in their peripheral vision when they're in a room together, even if they aren't interacting.

They become super prepared to offer grounding or concrete help (hey you've been fidgeting like crazy so I made you some tea)(I'm gonna drape myself on your back like a cape real quick cause I can hear you thinking from the other side of the room) because that's what they used to do when they were little and (even more) unable to address their feelings

[insecurities-ofthe-secure]

Sometimes the world is Too Much.

Today is one of those days. Where regardless of what the plan is, how much or little I have to do, it is Too Much. And it will always be Too Much. No amount of Doing Things lightens that load.

Sometimes I want the world to be blurry and out of focus.

It feels better sometimes when I can't see it. When the sharp edges become rounded and the fear standing on the horizon is too far away to even be recognizable anymore. If I could just stay unfocused, maybe... maybe I'd be able to find some peace. Some rest...

But the days keep passing. Time keeps slipping. And I...

I have to remain in focus.

[Poetic musings aside, I woke up today with the knowledge that today would be a Bad Day. No real reason why I just knew it and I almost ended up crying about it before I was even out of bed. And today has felt like a lot even with some good moments and it being over all, not bad of a day but still I keep wanting to cry and scream and check out of it all for a while.

... I was playing some games with my SO and talking to them and just. I just miss them so much. I miss them being around, I miss our schedules lining up, I miss how they make me feel, how they make me laugh, how I can be ME with them. I miss the little happy noises they get me to make. I miss feeling happy.

... That's really what it comes down to. I miss feeling happy. I miss feeling like I have agency, like my choices are my own and don't have to be second guessed or run by someone else. I miss being alone. Truly alone or at least with people who would leave me alone. I miss being around people who's baggage I wasn't carrying, who's names aren't the source of scars around my heart. I miss not being mediator. I miss not having to play nice all the time. I miss my independence. And yeah, sure, a bunch of those things haven't ACTUALLY been stripped away but it feels like they have and that makes all the differences and I know it's up to me, up to my thoughts, feelings, behaviours to change that to seize control back, to say fuck you and stand up for myself but it's HARD. It's hard and against a lot of my nature and it's different when it's your PARENTS.

Anyway the poetic stuff above was inspired by the fact that I had taken my glasses off for whatever reason and then I realized I didn't want to put them back on. That I liked the world blurry and out of focus because then I can dissociate better. Connect with myself better. It felt like me putting my glasses back on would be accepting that I had to go back downstairs and be with my family when all I wanted was to be alone for a bit longer and vulnerable and sad. Putting my glasses back on would be the same as putting on my mask and saying everything is fine and not talking to anyone about it because it's an existential, environmental problem really and nothing can be done to fix it aside from letting time pass until I can move on from it but ffs is it all hard. It's all so hard.

Oh, and my parents have been questioning my abilities lately. Because that's a big boost to my self esteem. To the point where I went from going "yeah, I can do full time work! that will motivate me to fix my sleep schedule and it will fill my days with work I find rewarding and fun on good days and on bad days i can still DO. And if I have to go to work physically then that will help me exercise! It'll all be so good for my brain and my body and my pocket!" to "maybe I can't do this. Maybe I can't go full time. Or if I did it would be at a sacrifice to some of my most precious and fleeting times of the day." It's just sapped all of my confidence out of me. And I hate it. It's an opportunity I was beyond excited for and now I'm nervous about it at best, and scared about it at worst.

My anxiety is so bad these days that last night I dreamt that I had anxiety about cutting bagels in half. yeah. I had dream anxiety over some mundane, who gives a shit activity. And you know what's worse? The person I was talking to my anxieties about gave me perfect reassurance about what I was feeling and then I just found something else to be anxious about. THAT'S MY DREAM LIFE RIGHT NOW. BEING ANXIOUS ABOUT BAGELS.

.... anyway. I should put my glasses back on and face the music. This ended up being longer than intended. ]

[realasunicorns]

In case anyone has been wondering what has been the aftermath of that event:

I AM CRASHING SO SEVERELY YOU CAN'T IMAGINE.

I have no idea for how long this will go on, but one thing is for sure: I will allow no more doctors in here.

I have been bedridden since a minor surgery in May 2018 and I was finally getting better (like, not feeling like dying all day all night and being able be in bed, still laid, but at least reading or even drawing a bit) and this man was supposed to come only to check if I had the illness he's specialized in AND HE HAS DESTROYED EVERYTHING I HAVE BEEN WORKING SO HARD TO RECOVER FOR MORE THAN 6 MONTHS IN ONLY ONE HOUR OF HIS TIME.

Had I known this I would have never agreed to the visit. He was here for cientific curiosity (and money) and because his diagnose could help me to finally get any support at all from the government.

But I got none of that. I only got EVEN WORSE.

He had no idea what my other illnesses were, like: ME/CFS, Fibro, MCAS, EDS, POTS, IBS, etc. But it did not matter, he said, because he was diagnosing something else.

Well. Apparently he decided to check on what I had before coming to visit me.

After that his whole approach changed. #HELLOPERJUDICE

He arrived home and didn't believe me. It was obvious: he started acting like a psychiatrist (even though he's not one ffs they need to stop doing that) asking about my childhood and shit, making me talk for an hour. Under a lot of light. But I can't stand light. Or talking. Or moving. He didn't give a shit about any of it.

He only had to do a minor examination of a few specifics to know if I had a particular illness or not. AND HE DIDN'T EVEN DO THAT.

HE DID EVERYTHING BUT WHAT HE HAD SAID HE WOULD.

He lied.

He asked for extra money (and prior to the visit).

But most importantly and most unacceptably: HE HURT ME ON PURPOSE.

I will not go into exact details of how he did that for the sake of my mental health which is the only healthy thing I've got left (tho it won't last if they continue like this...).

The point is that I had an illness he didn't believe was REAL (literally told me that to my face), so he did to me exactly everything he wasn't supposed to just to prove to his stupid self he was right about it or something. Little did his idiotic self know I pay the price afterwards and he wouldn't see a thing during the visit apart from the fact that I had POTS (I was tachycardic, but ofc that was bc I was nervous LOL!). Here I am more than 2 weeks later still paying a huge price for his abuse. And who knows for long I will stay like this now. After I had started to finally get better (on my own) I agree to see one more speciallist and this happens.

I don't know if he asked a collegue about my illnesses, checked online... whatever. I don't fucking care. The point is that his and everyone else's perjudice has cost me way too much once again AND THIS HAS TO FUCKING STOP.

Doctors have distroyed my life repeatedly and they seem to want to keep doing so when I'm already at the verge of... who knows what end.

Do not dare to tell a single disabled / chronically ill person what they can or cannot complain about. You have no idea what we go through.

The hashtag #DoctorsAreDickheads on Twitter exists for a reason.

And #NotAllDoctors is laughing in our sick, dying faces once more.

The healthcare services I pay for do not take care of me. Nor does the government give me any benefits even if I worked and payed taxes for that in the past. Nor do people respect me because my illnesses aren't thought to be real.

So ask for nothing more. Just let me be. Here, in my bed. I do not want that "help". I just want to be left alone to enjoy whatever I have left of life for as long as I can manage to do so.

Without the mocking. Without the abuse. Etc.

Basically, without society's bullshit.

Will they not even let me have that?

So a doctor came to see me home (I’m bedridden) and now I will also need psychological help because once again he ignored all my physical symptoms and I’m honestly so fucking done with this shit. I can cope with my severe illness better than I can cope with their bullshit. I swear doctors are the fucking worst.

I made the effort of talking to him for a fucking hour, which for me is a huge physical effort that’s gonna cost me a lot in the upcoming hours, days and weeks, and all I get in return is another “professional” laughing at my face when I’m getting worse and worse and I might eventually fucking die of this.

How is this not criminal. How. Health system needs fixing re-building. This needs to fucking stop. The neglect. The arrogance. The disrespect. The dismissal. The abuse. All of it.

We suffer enough as it is and yet… It’s fucking shameful.