#if anything it’s negative to the people who won’t stop asking them about the band | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

doctorofmagic · 3 years ago

Text

My thoughts on What If... Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The very title of the episode sends a shiver down my spine. And this is where we’re going to start.

~ long post under the cut ~

A year ago, I wrote this post as an attemp to dive into one of the most important traits in Doctor Strange’s personality: love. Stephen is a being made of love, made to love, no matter which interpretation you have when you watch Infinity War. If you don’t read comic books, you’ll understand the moment you meet Donna. You’ll begin to understand how her death reshaped his entire subjectivity out of fear of failing, being powerless and unable to control everything around him (especially death), thus the arrogant and yet a disaster of a man we all know.

Where do I even start? Stephen loved her sister deeply and felt responsible for her death. And then, slowly, he also lost his parents and his brother. He fell in love with Clea but he also pushed her away. He loved Zelma platonically and lied to her, which was enough for them to break their bond. He felt attracted to Kanna but screwed things up, even though they remain friends. He was forced to kill the Ancient One, the only father figure he had ever since his father died. And lastly, the only person who would never leave his side... also left. Yes, even Wong. Stephen has SO much love to give but he’s also afraid because he’s cursed. He truly believes his love in poison. And would you look at that? What If really delivered a story where this is actually true.

What If Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The level of understanding when it comes to the character is... inconceivable. What could possibly reshape Stephen into following a dark path but love? The very premise of the whole episode. This is so much more than a love letter. This is literally too much, in all senses.

Fine, let’s begin.

What if the best of intentions has very strange consequences?

No. You used the word “strange” for the pun but this is not the word. Nah-ah. I’d go with ATROCIOUS, for starters. Things are gonna escalate so quickly, my friends.

Seriously, tho? Christine is SO SO SO SO beautiful, they’re so cute together. I have this feeling that MCU!Stephen was quite toxic because of his arrogance and this is why they didn’t work out. But WhatIf!Stephen???????? He’s always praising her, teasing her in a healthy way, respecting her and listening to her. HE TRULY LOVES HER, I’M GONNA CRY ALL OVER AGAIN, PLEASE, NOT THE CRÈME BRÛLÉE, PLEASE

I’m going to leave this shot here because we need to go back to it later. Hold that thought.

And bonus points to “Yeah, well, I would call that quite remarkable.” / “Well, I would say the same about you.”

GODS. THE PAIN. STOP THE PAIN.

So in this reality, Stephen didn’t caused the car accident because he was checking his phone while driving. Also it was not the reckless attempt to pass the truck. Well, maybe it was the consequence of this act? The fact is, the car behind them loses control, which makes them crash. Does it matter? We’ll learn later that no, it doesn’t.

And yep... Christine dies. Have you noticed the shattered heart? Ah, the pain only gets better and better.

Again, Stephen blames himself. More than anything, this is so important because Stephen is all about guilt. We still need to meet Donna so we can add yet another layer of guilt. But the feeling exists. This is what corrupts Stephen’s heart and soul in all his iterations. This is what makes him the character I love so much. I love this SO. MUCH. In addition, his stubbornness to accept his condition. Man won’t take a no. This, this is Doctor Strange in character. Stop complaining about NWH Stephen, it’s pathetic.

Okay, “grief-stricken”, Stephen found the Mystic Arts and became a sorcerer. That’s when he learned about the Time Stone, the Eye of Agamotto and Dormammu. Nothing changes, he saves the universe. But time does not heal his deepest wound.

I love Wong so much. Every time Wong does something, the world is healed. Really. We’re going back to him as well but for now I’ll just leave this shot.

BUT STEPHEN, DOING SOMETHING RECKLESS? HE’D NEVAH

Aaaaaaaannnnnnd then he did.

He goes back in time. It’s been two years since he lost Christine. I think he reacted pretty nicely, despite the circumstances. Now let’s go back to that shot I said I was saving for later.

Stephen is so light-hearted here. Also, during the first time he lost Christine, he had no idea what “The Price is Right” was. He knows now, which means he probably tried to learn more about the show because of her, because of grief. HAHAHA MORE PAIN

AND THEN HE

AND THEN SHE DIES AGAIN

AND THEN HE KEEPS GOING BACK IN TIME

AND SHE KEEPS DYING

AND THE MUSIC

AND HIS VOICE

AND HE TRIES TO CHANGE FATE BUT IT CAN’T BE AVERTED

HE EVEN TRIES TO STAY AWAY FROM HER LIFE BUT SHE DIES ALL THE SAME, WHY

AND EVERY TIME THEY CRASH, HE FEELS THE PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL PAIN AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN, WHY

I’M-- *ugly sobbing noises*

Apparently, not.

And this scene when he simply... closes his eyes before she dies again...?

This is where this episode had me in endless tears. It got me the four times I watched it. I’m dead serious.

Okay, so, next the Ancient One appears to Stephen, explaining that Christine’s death is an Absolute Point in time. It cannot be changed. Stephen needs the accident to become the Sorcerer Supreme and defeat Dormammu.

And this is where Stephen starts his journey into darkness. “Nothing is impossible, you taught me that. I only require more power.” Disobeying the Ancient One, Stephen then travels in time, seeking the Library of Cagliostro. Now, if you’re not aware of that, Cagliostro was a sorcerer who studied time in comics, and later became Sise-Neg (there’s a recent post on this because of the new Defenders run). It’s funny to think that Sise-Neg also destroyed the world when he became a god, however he grew past his pettiness and remade reality. Stephen did not possess such power, as we’re about to see.

PS: “Stop torturing yourself, Stephen.” Naur but he should use this line like a mantra. Especially comics!Stephen.

Not gonna lie, tho. This place reminds me of the Temple of the Vishanti from T&T (of course I was going to insert T&T somewhere, it’s me).

And of course they’d go for a pun with his name haha. I don’t know how to feel about this, tho. I feel like the episode is too heavy and dark for comedy. But it is what it is.

Okay but why some books are in cages??????????? And wow, it seems Cagliostro also gathered knowledge about several fields of magic.

And then Stephen learns that, in order to break an Absolute Point, he needs to absorb more power. This is when I went “oh-oh, here we go”.

And for real, is this Shuma-Gorath? Why are they keeping his name a secret? Is this the same creature from the first episode with Captain Carter, right? RIGHT? It has to be Shuma-Gorath.

Of course he tries to be polite and ends up all hurt haha. O’Bengh warns him about love but he will not listen. “Love can break more than your heart. It can shatter your mind.”/ “Is she worth the pain?”. Please, this is Stephen. He eats pain for breakfast.

Also, also, let’s take a break. We’re finally going to get monsterf0cker tentacle-lover Stephen Strange. It will cost us everything but here we goooooooooooo (yes, I went frame by frame for your more obscure fanservice needs)

Gods, I love this sequence so much it hurts. Okay, here we go.

Shmebulock???????????

AND HE STOLE THE CAPE??????????? AND DREW THE LINE ON BUGS??????

The grasp this man is holding on me right now...

Some of you will understand. I’m with you.

And here are the grostesque ones. These are hard to take SS but I had to.

Animation, sound effects, OST? CHEF’S KISS TO ALL

And lastly... the tentacles. Yeah, if you’re new... this is a thing.

Fanservice. Fanservice everywhere. (low-key the reason I also waited to write this review, I wanted to enjoy this part so badly but I was too sad for that lmao)

Okay so. O’Bengh is suddenly OLD and DYING, until we realize that Stephen spent CENTURIES absorbing mystic beings. CENTURIES. WTF STEPHEN. He had nothing in mind but the goal to save Christine. And people wonder why he went insane???? I’m sorry, O’Bengh, but I can’t take you serious when you still call Stephen Sorcerer Armani. Oh, and also because you watched him absorb beings for centuries in silence lmao. But I guess I have to because you said that Stephen is split in two since the Ancient One cast a spell on him, splitting the timelines and making them exist in the same reality before he could travel back in time. I know, it’s complex. Anything for the plot.

And now good!Stephen has an evil!twin who wants to absorb him back in order to become whole and break the Absolute Point. Cool.

I said I wanted to talk more about Wong because I think people are not talking about him enough. Wong is so important in this episode. He’s the one who’s trying to heal Stephen after Christine. He’s Stephen’s anchor.

Also, THEY FINALLY USED A SPELL WITH THE NAME OF THE VISHANTI. HOORAAAAY

So, for the sake of our understanding, I’m addressing the characters as evil and good!Stephen. Let’s go. Evil!Stephen summons good!Stephen and gods, he still holds such a strong grasp on me... unbelievable. THE DEEPER VOICE BENEDICT USES???? PLEASE, DIDN’T WE HAVE ENOUGH?

Imagine his strength to hold so many beings inside him, fighting to control him. BRO, THIS IS TOO TOO MUCH

Fine, I’ll not post SS about the fight because I’d be here all night long but I WILL say this: NOT CLOAKIE!!!!! NAAAAAAAAAAUR

Also if you ask me if I recognize any of the spells? Maaaaybe the Flames of Faltine, the not-so-crimson Bands of Cyttorak and a little trick Magik does with her portals. That’s how far I go.

I’ll not comment on the “seducing yourself to stay in the trap”. I will not. I’ll just say that the first person Stephen thought of when “Christine” was talking about the crème brûlée was Wong. That’s it.

And finally evil!Stephen absorbs good!Stephen and releases... UNLIMITED POWER (I love when the stone goes red as if it was bleeding aaaaaaa)

I can fix him...

This scene here? Poetic cinema. (I love his wings so much)

And when Stephen says her name and the other monsters’ voices echo “Christine”, AAAAAACKKKK

AND OF COURSE CHRISTINE WOULD FREAK OUT, BRO. LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE BECOME BECAUSE OF YOUR TWISTED LOVE. I’M NOT DOING FINE.

Oh, but it’s too late anyways because Stephen broke reality haha. This scene is interesting because Stephen is the only one who sensed and/or talked to the Watcher until now. I read an interview that the Watcher kinda showed up but it’s also about Stephen’s keen senses. Bit of both, let’s say. Still, man, 616-Watcher is not that cold. 616-Watcher would watch this and say “how about I intervene anyway?”. WhatIf!Watcher is brutal.

The way Christine looks at Stephen one last time also KILLS ME, DESTROYS ME, BREAK ME INTO A MILLION PIECES.

And this is where my soul left my body.

This is how they end the episode. This is how you leave me speechless and with teary eyes. This is how you give me a whole existential crisis.

This... this was brutal to watch. Really.

What can I say after this? I’m used to reading painful things when it comes to Stephen. Aaron’s and Cates’ runs are heartbreaking on so many levels. Hickman’s New Avengers is not easier. Coincidentally, What If? Magik Became Sorcerer Supreme and The End. And now Death of Doctor Strange. And yet, after everything I’ve been through, I’d never expect to watch something so brilliant, so tragic, so heartbreaking and unexpected in the MCU. Never. This is top tier content and this is my favorite character with SO MANY LAYERS and SO MUCH UNDERSTANDING. I can’t put into words how meaningful this whole episode is to me, or how deep it touched my heart and soul.

I’ve been struggling to find the proper words since then, I still can’t. All I can add is, I cried for the 4th time now. This is too, too much, even for Stephen stans. Even for the ones who are used to pain, regardless of which media you’re into: comic books, live actions or animated movies. This is literally more than I can take and yet I’m so, so grateful. The voice acting, gods, how did Benedict manage to create a better Stephen than the one he’s literally playing in real life???????????? HOW

This episode really took the max potential Stephen had to offer as a character, added tons and tons of layers based on his grief, depression, arrogance and need to control everything and created a tragic masterpiece. In 7 years of being a Doctor Strange fan, I've never read or watch something that could go this deep into the character. The closest I can think of is Mr. Misery and the metaphor of Stephen's depression. This is a whole new level of respect and understanding. This is more than a love letter. This is peak maestry. It’s perfect, it’s heartbreaking, it’s... gods, I can’t.

Sorry for dragging you until this far. Before I wrap up this review, I just wanted to remind you all that Stephen will appear again, he will smile again, he will be surrounded by people again. So this is not the end. It was painful but be brave. We still have a few more steps to take.

#what if...?#doctor strange #stephen strange #what if doctor strange lost his heart instead of his hands?#wong #christine palmer #the ancient one #long post #review #he did nothing wrong #so what? he destroyed a whole universe #/j #benedict cumberbatch

174 notes · View notes

sirenofthetimes · 3 years ago

Text

Every Proposal on Gilmore Girls Was Absolutely Unhinged

This show was rich in couples, swimming in conflict, and desperately lacking in healthy communication. Which made for some batshit marriage proposals! Let's go:

Christopher to Lorelai in Season 1 ep. 15: Christopher Returns

In Christopher's first appearance on the show, he rocks up to Stars Hollow on his motorcycle at the end of the previous episode, out of the blue, and in this one archetypes are made clear: he establishes himself as the irresponsible deadbeat single dad to Lorelai's hardworking, mature yet still fun single mom. They have a weird dinner with everyone's parents where his parents, Straub and Francine, are shown to be even more uptight and awful than Richard and Emily can be. A lot of fighting and yelling and relitigating past choices ensues. Then Lorelai and Christopher go off to have emotional, nostalgic sex on her childhood balcony, and off the strength of that, he walks into her kitchen the next morning and blurts out that he wants to marry her so they can be a "real family". They barely see each other. They know hardly anything about each other's current lives. This is the first time he's visited the town they've been living in since Rory was a child and yet. A marriage proposal. Naturally, she turns him down, but we have not heard the last of Christopher Hayden.

Max to Lorelai in Season 1 ep. 21: Love, Daisies and Troubadours

This relationship was used mostly to discuss Lorelai's commitment issues, the difficulties of dating as a single mom, and have her fight allegations of her being promiscuous (which are not true, she can be very sexually conservative) by having her do something risky like try to date one of her daughter's teachers at the stuffy private school that also exists in her parents' world. So despite them having okay chemistry, they haven't really dated much and broke up after two months before getting back together shortly before the night of the proposal. Max comes by the house to pick Lorelai up and finds Luke there getting his toolbox and relaying the news that Rachel broke up with him (because she has a basic level of intuition and picked up on his feelings for Lorelai). Max and Luke have a very cringy dick measuring contest, Max (in possession of similar intuition) assumes Luke and Lorelai dated at some point but it's not season 5 yet so she's not legally allowed to admit she's into Luke. They argue, Max expresses frustration that their relationship can never seem to get off the ground, and what does he propose as a solution? Yoking their lives together in blessed matrimony. Lorelai is justifiably frustrated and tells him that's not how you propose, that a proposal is supposed to be special and grand. She lists "a thousand yellow daisies" as an example how to truly pop the question and the next day Max arranges for that famous logistical nightmare romantic gesture at the inn, then says some flowery bullshit on the phone and because it's the season finale and emotions are high, Lorelai accepts. Though later, right after her bachelorette party, she runs away and calls off the wedding. They meet a couple more times for closure, and then the relationship is truly dead.

Jackson to Sookie in Season 2 ep 13: A-Tisket A-Tasket

Sookie and Jackson's budding relationship has actually been pretty nice to watch up until this point. They have a fun balance between awkward but cute flirting and comical bickering about produce. But there's something in the area's water supply that makes people unable to clearly express their wants and needs in a romantic relationship so when Sookie doesn't respond how Jackson wanted her to to him saying his lease was up and asking her what she thought, he sulks. The sulking manifests itself in him not bidding on Sookie's basket at the bid a basket auction so she confronts him to see what's up and they actually manage to have a decent conversation about what moving in together would mean. And that could've been a nice ending for that storyline. But shacking up together? Out of wedlock? Impossible. So at their picnic for two, Jackson fakes Sookie out and says he doesn't want to talk about moving in together any more... because he thinks they should get married. Sookie, reeling from that whiplash, accepts, and since the rules of TV beta couples states they must move faster than the main will-they-won't-they couple at all times, they get married, stay married, and continue struggling to effectively talk through big life decisions,with some admittedly nice moments in between.

Lorelai to Luke in Season 5 ep 22: A House is Not a Home and Season 6 ep 1: New and Improved Lorelai

Lorelai and Luke are in kind of a weird place at the moment, with Luke upset with Lorelai for considering selling the Dragonfly to a corporation owned by one of her father's contacts, which would have her traveling and consulting instead. While she's not too serious about it, she's enjoying being courted by the company, but this is in complete disregard for the giant house Luke bought without telling her or the kids he's thinking about having that he also hasn't discussed with her so it's causing problems. This is forgotten however with the news that Rory wants to take time off from Yale after receiving some rare negative feedback, and that Richard and Emily are letting her stay with them after just telling Lorelai they would help her force Rory back into Yale. So when Lorelai walks into the diner lamenting the fact that Rory is making a decision independent from the vision Lorelai had for her life, and Luke comes forth with a nonsensical plan to, again, force Rory back to Yale, Lorelai is touched that she finally has someone on her side. And since she's a veteran of the season finale marriage proposal, she celebrates having her partner agree with her by asking him to marry her. He accepts in the next season's premiere with no hesitation, but eventually their tendency to hide things from each other to not ruin their relationship.... ruins their relationship. Shocking.

Zack to Lane in Season 6 ep 16: Bridesmaids Revisited

Zack is on a bit of a redemption tour after ruining Hep Alien's showcase in front of a major label by throwing a tantrum about Brian potentially writing a song for Lane. This random burst of jealousy sends him on a power trip that has him throwing out their set list and screaming at his band mates until a fight breaks out and the band and him and Lane split up. But when he sees Lane in the music shop some time later putting up a flier advertising her drumming services to other bands, the thought of her daring to potentially continue living her life without him spurs Zach into action. He convinces Brian and Gil to get the band back together and they're in if Lane's in. And his way of getting Lane back is to walk into Luke's while she's working, go off on some tangent about how he doesn't feel good, and propose in front of a huge crowd of gossipy small town people. Lane must have smacked her head on some antique furniture that day because although she at least stops to ask if he's thought about this, when he presents her with the pawn shop ring he got that "belonged to like an Elk or a Moose or something", she accepts and walks right into marriage and babies land and right out of development that would make sense for her character or be interesting.

Christopher to Lorelai in Season 7 ep. 7: French Twist

Ever since Lorelai walked out of her fraught engagement with Luke and into Christopher's bed, he has taken the reality of a woman coping with feelings of rejection by hooking up with the man she keeps stashed in the background for occasions such as these, and spun it into an elaborate romantic tale of two star crossed loves who waited their whole lives to be together. And when Sherry who, guided by the hands of karma, previously abandoned Gigi leaving Christopher to raise her on his own, writes a letter saying she's totally fine now trust her and wants Gigi to spend a few months with her in Paris, Christopher invites Lorelai along for a big romantic gesture trip. They spend most of it jetlagged, but Christopher remembers he's super rich now (as opposed to just being regular rich like before) and he bribes a restaurant to open early for the two of them. Lorelai, basking in the romance™ of it all, confesses her love, and Christopher pounces on that and starts in on a whole speech. Basically, even though he said he'd be willing to wait for Lorelai to fall in line with his vision, he doesn't feel like waiting any more. Lorelai, sensing where this is going, suggests they wait, as they've only been really dating for a couple of months. She also brings up Rory, figuring she'd want to be up to date and present any big changes. But Christopher waves those perfectly valid concerns away, stresses how long they've known each other, insists that they're meant to be, and fate has brought them together. And then comes out with it and asks her to marry him. Which are very intense words for Lorelai, an emotionally vulnerable woman who just broke off an engagement because her fiancé seemed overly hesitant to actually get married, to hear. We don't see her accept, but there's a scene of them returning home where he calls her "Mrs. Hayden" (as if she would ever change her name), and their marriage immediately began to fall apart like wet tissue paper.

Logan to Rory in Season 7 ep. 21: Unto the Breach

It's the end of Rory's time at Yale, and on the heels of her New York Times fellowship rejection, rejections from other newspapers across the country, and the fact that she rejected her one job offer for better things that did not come, Rory's future is wide open and unstable. On the other hand, Logan is completing his character transformation from irresponsible party animal trust fund kid to hardworking and responsible trust fund kid, accepting a job offer for an internet company in San Francisco. The question emerges: How will the young couple handle this next phase of their lives? And when Logan shows up at Lorelai's house in the previous episode, he comes with a solution. He wants to marry Rory and take her to California, and he wants Lorelai's blessing to propose. She gives it, though not without trepidation, and Logan does propose. In the middle of the graduation party Richard and Emily are throwing for Rory, he gets up in front of everyone and takes out the ring. Rory is caught completely off guard and takes him outside to talk about it, where he reveals that he got the job, picked out a house for them to rent, researched newspapers where she could apply to work, and even planned activities for them to do in their spare time. The original plan being that she would say yes to his proposal without knowing all this and walk blindly into her new, pre-arranged West Coast life. But Rory needs time to process the idea of marrying Logan immediately after college, and on the day of her graduation, she declines. Logan decides if he can't marry her, there's no point in being with her at all, and the two go their separate ways, to eventually meet again in a years long affair, for some reason. Though I barely acknowledge the revival.

Honestly, the only proposal that truly makes sense is Lorelai's to Luke in the revival but I won't discuss it here because a) again, the revival basically doesn't exist to me and b) they should've married during the original run of the show.

#gilmore girls #originals #this sat in my drafts for ages because every time i watched a proposal scene i need to Take A Minute #i mean imo even a lot of your standard proposals are still wild to me #but these.... woof

81 notes · View notes

upsidedownism · 2 years ago

Text

[ brigette lundy paine | non-binary | they/them | twenty-five ] —— it’s just another typical week in hawkins i guess — isn’t that right, siobhan mcclaughlin? huh, guess they can’t hear me over cloudbusting by kate bush playing on their walkman, but it looks like they’re headed to work as a cashier at bradley’s big buy supermarket. did you know shiv has been in hawkins for number of twenty-three years? yeah, they’ve been described as a bit blunt, but i suppose them also being adaptable outweighs the negative. i’ve also heard people say they remind them of shirts cut and made into crop tops, converse doodled with art and words, big jackets and backwards caps, finding comfort in science and resolutions, willing to fight for their family no matter what the circumstances, a fear of abandonment that they’ll never talk about, nodding their head to music over an open window to forget their problems… however, that could just be this weeks newest rumor.

character inspos: lip gallagher ( shameless ), maeve wiley ( sex education ), alex karev ( greys anatomy ), cristina yang ( greys anatomy ), kaz brekker ( shadown & bone ), raven reyes ( the 100 ), selina kyle ( batman ), beth harmon ( the queens gambit ), fleabag ( fleabag ), patrick verona ( ten things i hate about you )

full name: siobhan tierney mclaughlin nickname(s): shiv name meaning: the lord is gracious age: twenty-five date of birth: november 12 place of birth: indianapolis, indiana current location: hawkins, indiana gender: non-binary sexuality: queer / aromantic pronouns: they/them religion: catholic but probably agnostic now occupation: bradley’s education level: high school, bachelors in mechanical engineering financial status: poor spoken languages: english, spanish, french

there’s comfort in chaos, at least if you were to ask shiv, that’s what they’d say. there’s comfort in chaos and an older brother that exudes sunshine on a not so very nuclear family. but they wouldn’t have any other way.

shiv is the second oldest of the mclaughlins and often feels like the most lost, but they’d never say that out loud.

they had always known that they were a little bit different growing up but took that in stride, where kids were playing on the playground shiv was wondering what it took to make the playground... the playground, often coming up with their own grand ideas of how to make it better. putting their hands to work on things that could improve their life had always been something that they found joy in and wanted to carry that into adulthood.

though by the time that they’re old enough to know better, that kids like them with big dreams won’t ever make it that far because of the lack of money and belief from teachers would be enough to crush a kid but never shiv who took the defeats in strides. their family was never meant to have it the easy way.

they’ve always been a con artist at heart, making schemes to get somewhere in life, not to try and catch up with the people who already had it all, but just to get by. they used their brains to their advantage, earned money by taking the SATS in neighbouring towns for people, writing essays for older classmates that were barely making it by, stealing what they could, but always being genuine in their own work.

teachers said that if they just stopped getting in trouble that they’d make it far.

shiv danced to the beat of their own drum, embraced their weirdness, and explored their likes and dislikes. made it on the soccer team, tried band once and failed, but brushed it off. they were good in workshop, their hands always known what they needed to do before their brain did.

shiv has had the same job at bradley’s since they were fifteen and it hasn’t changed even when they went to school, it’s a steady pay even if it isn’t much, and if anyone sees them stealing they don’t say anything.

personality wise they’re a little aloof but talkative if you get them on the right day, very deeply loyal, intense trust issues, prefers random hookups, sorry to say shiv will never settle down with anyone simply because they don’t want to, they figured this out pretty early on when kids were getting crushes and people their age started dating. they simply don’t work that way and are at peace with it.

refuses to talk about their mommy and daddy issues, why bother when you have a great older brother?? ( but seriously its a sore subject they refuse to think about it or acknowledge that they exist )

shiv helped with the rebuild of the town and the library with their degree, despite feeling stuck here they do kind of have a fondness for hawkins even if it’s kind of going to the shitter.

wc ideas:

best friends -- shiv is very loyal and will pretty much do anything for their best friend and i mean literally anything

smoking buddy -- self explanatory, probably will talk the person’s ear off about their pretentious taste in music

fwb -- self explanatory, probably high fives by the end of it i hate them

old friendship -- while shiv is loyal that doesn’t mean they haven’t accidentally hurt people in the past due to their nature of trust issues and fear of abandonment, they leave before they get left

when i think of more i’ll add them adskjfnalsd

#hawkinstm.intro #━━ ❛❛ // SHIV MCLAUGHLIN ! ¦ you’re on your own kid you always have been . 「 about ! 」

5 notes · View notes

thechangeling · 3 years ago

Text

She burns like rum on a fire

Why did I do this to myself ughhhhh?

So @adoravel-fenomeno and I were talking about Kit potentially getting into an abusive relationship given that he's statistically likely too given his roots. So now I give you this fic! Sorry. Kit is using he/him in this fic because he hasn't really gone on his gender quest yet.

The title is from Cherry Wine by Hozier. I reccomend you listen to Cherry Wine and Trauma by NF while reading this.

Cw: Mentions of physical and verbal abuse, abusive, controlling behavior, negative self talk and extreme denial. Also brief mention of blood.

2013

Don't cry.

Don't cry Kit told himself over and over inside his head as he tried to get a hold of his breathing. As he lay on his bed at 2 in the morning, desperately refreshing his conversation with Autumn.

Autumn or as his best friend Janessa liked to call her "the virus" was Kit's girlfriend. His very first. A mundane with the sight. They had been dating for a few months now. When they had first gotten together everything was amazing, it so it seemed.

They had some much in common and they had fun together. Autumn was hot, funny and charasmatic. She had this way of making him feel like the only person in the room. She showered him with gifts and complements that made Kit finally feel worthy for the first time in his life.

But as time went on things shifted. Autumn insisted on spending almost ever waking second with him. Kit didn't mind at first, he loved hanging out with her. But he missed his parents and his sister, and he knew they missed him too. Whenever they had family movie night, or they wanted Kit to watch Mina, Autumn threw a fit. She insisted that he was ignoring her.

She didn't want him seeing Janessa either, or Nessie as Kit called her for short. Autumn always insisted that she was plotting to steal Kit away from her, which was ridiculous but nothing could change Autumn's mind when she was in a mood. So Kit had found himself blowing Nessie off to hang out with Autumn and making excuses for it.

Kit always felt super guilty for making Autumn so upset. He tried to get out of his agreements if it to stop her from crying but sometimes Tessa and Jem wouldn't let him. It was frustrating when they didn't understand. She would rage for awhile, calling Kit stupid and worthless. Sometimes she would make comments about him being adopted, telling him that Tessa and Jem didn't really love him and they only saw him as a free babysitter for their real child.

She would make jokes about all kinds of things. How Kit wasn't a real shadowhunter, his weight, his past, his bisexuality, his ADHD. Kit knew that Autimn didn't really mean anything by it. It was nothing personal and she didn't really mean it. She loved him. And he loved her.

Tonight had been different though. His grades had taken a turn for the worst because he had been blowing of the tutoring sessions the school had payed for as a part of his accommodations. Because he had been spending that time with Autumn. Kit knew it was a bad idea to miss those, but his girlfriend needed him. She didn't have anybody else. She couldn't count on her parents like he could, and she didn't really have any friends.

But Kit was in big trouble. Tessa and Jem were mad. The school was mad. People were saying that Kit was ungrateful.

Ah yes because every disabled person should just bend down and kiss the feet of every person that deigns to give them what they're legally entitled to.

But Kit knew that he had really screwed up this time. He tried to explain to Autumn that he couldn't see her as often as he used to anymore because he needed to fix his grades. And she absolutely lost it. Which he had been expecting.

However what Kit hadn't been expecting this time was for her to hit him.

And she hit him hard. Punched him straight in the nose. And sure it wasn't that big of a deal. Kit was a shadowhunter and he was pretty much used to being hit. But he hadn't been expecting it.

And there was just so much blood.

Autumn of course instantly apologized profusely. She kissed him over and over and told him that she loved him and she didn't mean to. And Kit knew she was telling the truth but-

But he still felt a sinking feeling in his chest that he couldn't explain.

But Kit had applied an iratze, wiped off the blood, and now everything was as good as new. When he had arrived back home, his parents had noticed anything or asked him any questions.

Now he was lying awake at 2 in the morning, filled with guilt and worry as he waited for Autumn to text him back. He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously as he tried not to over think things.

Maybe she was still mad at him? Was there something else Kit was supposed to say or do? Or maybe he should just leave her alone for awhile?

It was maddening.

Kit turned off his phone and threw it down in frustration, pulling his giant red and black flannel over his shoulders and curling in on himself. He felt strangely exhausted, but unable to sleep. His nose and left eye socket still throbbed a little despite the fact that they should be healed.

Kit thought about using another iratze but his steele was across the room and he couldn't bring himself to stand up to go get it.

God he really was pathetic. Maybe he deserved this. Tears welled up in Kit's eyes.

Don't cry. Don't cry.

This time Kit couldn't hold it back. So he let himself cry. Tears came streaming down his cheeks as he tried to muffle his sobs with his hand. Deep down he knew it was his fault. It was always his fault.

But with Autumn he had really tried. Sure he wasn't perfect but Kit really cared about her. And it wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough.

Kit couldn't help but think of the last time he felt like this. The last time he was rejected. He had been careful about trying to keep all thoughts of Ty Blackthorn out of his head for awhile. Autumn was a good distraction, even when she was screaming obscenities at him. It was still a distraction.

Kit closed his eyes and conjured the memory of holding Ty up on the roof. If he squeezed his eyes tightly enough, Kit could still feel the softness of his hoodie and the slight tickle of Ty's dark hair against his skin. He could conjure the smell of Ty's skin and the way he had trembled slightly against Kit's body.

I should have kissed him. Kit mused, hugging himself tightly. Just once. Even if Ty had pushed him away in disgust, it would have been worth it. Just to know what it felt like.

Suddenly from the bottom of the bed, Kit's phone lit up with a call. He scrambled to grab it, thinking it was Autumn, but it was actually Janessa. Kit cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound normal as he answered the phone.

"Why are you calling me at 2 am Nessie?"

"The better question is why are you still awake at 2 am," she pointed out, sounding smug. "I'm a vampire. Creature of the night remember? It's kinda prime time for me Kit Kat."

Kit smiled as he felt the previous angst wash away. "Yeah fair enough. But still, why are you calling me?"

Kit heard her sigh into the phone. "Well honestly because this is probably the only time you're free now a days," she said spitefully. "You know thanks to she-who-must-not-be-named." Kit rolled his eyes.

"That's my girlfriend you're talking about, Janessa!" He snapped.

"Well your girlfriend's a total bitch!"

Normally Kit would argue with her and tell her that she was way off base. That Autumn wasn't so bad and that she was trying. That she loved him. But today he just couldn't.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "We got into another fight tonight," he admitted. "Just a few hours ago actually."

"I'm sorry love," Janessa murmed. Nessie wasn't British. She was actually Canadian. But she had moved around the world with her previous band before settling in Devon and leaving them to go solo. She had picked up on some British expressions though.

"I wish you weren't going through this. But Kit, you gotta break up with her! She's bad news!"

Kit rested his face against the palm of his left hand. "I can't," he groaned.

Janessa let out a frustrated yell on the other end of the phone. "What the hell are you planning on doing Kit!? I mean are you just gonna wait into she hits you or what?" She spat.

"She already did," Kit responded instantly without missing a beat.

He gasped and slapped a hand to cover his mouth. Kit had no idea why he actually told her. Impulsivity maybe? Or maybe he just needed to get it out. But he instantly regretted it.

There was a long uncomfortable silence on the other end of the phone. Kit was just about to ask Janessa where she went when suddenly she spoke.

"I'm coming over."

Kit tried to protest but she hung up on him.

Before he had time to panic or scream or throw something, there was an aggressive tapping on his window. Of course. Janessa had vampire speed. He looked up to see Nessie perched on his windowsill looking solem.

Her long black curly hair was pulled into a high ponytail and she wore what by her standards was probably a casual outfit. A black long sleeved low cut crop top and white ripped skinny jeans tucked into thigh high heeled leather boots. And of course, she wore a full face of makeup. Even after the facial feminization surgery she was still a little insecure about going out without makeup on.

Nessie banged on his window again, more impatiently and Kit jumped up to let her in. She landed on his bedroom floor with the grace of a cat, making no sound. She stared at him silently with an expression that Kit found hard to decipher.

"Show me where," she whispered in that deep raspy voice of hers. She reached for his face and Kit let Janessa cradle his face with her hands and tried not to wince as her cold skin came into contact with his.

He shook his head. "No you won't see it, I put an iratze on it already. It's done." Janessa scoffed and stepped back.

"You know the damage isn't just skin deep Kit," she said pointedly. "No matter how much you want to pretend it is."

He glared at her. "Wow that's so insightful Nessie!," he said sarcastically. "What else you got?"

"Oh come on Kit you know I'm right," She hissed. "You have to end it!"

Kit shook his head. Why does she keep saying that?

"No. Why should I?" Kit retorted. "She loves me." He tried to sound as confident as he could, but truthfully he wasn't so sure anymore.

Autumn had gone above and beyond to make Kit feel loved and appreciated yo the point where she was almost obsessive. But she could also be cruel and spiteful. Kit had convinced himself that he should be happy with what he had because it was as good as he was gonna get.

And the sad part was that was still true.

"No she doesn't," Janessa breathed desperately. To Kit's horror, it looked like she was about to cry. Kit couldn't remember if he had ever seen her cry. Not once.

"Somebody who really loved you could never hurt you like that!" She protested shakily, her voice warbled as tears spilled down her face.

Kit could feel his tears returning at the sight of Nessie crying. He rushed towards her and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck. In the comfort of his best friend's embeace he allowed himself to finally sob. He cried for that broken niave part of himself that kept getting hurt.

She rested her chin on the top of his head, (she was taller then him,) and held him close. "Please promise me you will break up with her," Janessa begged.

"I just don't get it," Kit whispered against her skin. "I did everything right. I did everything I could." He blinked back tears. "Why doesn't she love me Nessie?"

He felt her shake against him. "I don't know Kit," she sobbed. "But I love you ok? I love you and your parents love you, and Mina loves you so much!"

Kit sighed, pulling back to wipe his tears. "I know, but what if I, you know-. What if I never find someone? Like romantically?"

Janessa studied him, raising her eyebrow. "Well do you need to find someone? Who is this arbitrary someone who can give you something a friendship can't?"

That's actually a good point.

"I mean," Nessie continued, crossing her arms and shifting her weight. "If you do end up in a relationship then cool, it's whatever. But the way I see it is you shouldn't focus all of your energy on looking because you're gonna end up missing out on some pretty cool stuff in the mean time." She smiled.

Kit thought about it. He knew logically Janessa had a point. But he just couldn't feel it. He was too depressed and defeated. And as ashamed as it made him, Kit still missed Autumn. He tried to smile along with Nessie but it must have looked weak because she looked concerned.

"Hey," she cooed, reaching for him.

"Can you sing to me Nessie?" He asked. Kit felt a little pathetic but hopefully she wouldn't judge him.

She smiled lovingly at him. "Sure." Janessa took his hand and led him to his bed.

"Any requests?" She asked as she pulled off her boots and lay down on Kit's bed. He followed her, snuggling up against Nessie with his back to her.

"No not really," he murmered, closing his eyes. Kit was finally starting to feel how exhausted he really was.

Janessa wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, resting her head slightly against his shoulder. "Ok," she whispered very softly.

Kit heard her clear her throat softly before the sound of her breathy angelic alto filled his ears.

"I'm turning out the lights, to remember how to see. Till the renaissance takes place, Until a renaissance takes place, and resuscitates the color of paint and divinity."

Kit smiled sleepily at the sound of his enneagram song, something Janessa had introduced him to.

He yawned and let the sound of Nessie's voice lull him to sleep, putting all thoughts of Autumn behind him.

In my head Kit is like 5'4 and Janessa is 5'9. Originally I had her at 5'11 but I wanted her to be closer in height to Kit. Also did I name Kit's abusive girlfriend Autumn after my toxic controlling ex best friend? You bet I did!

Tag list: (you know the deal) @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @clarys-heosphoros @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan @hardlymatters @the-wckd-powers @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @adoravel-fenomeno

#tsc #tda #twp #the dark artifices #kit herondale #fae's oc #the wicked powers #janessa williams #platonic soulmates for the win

59 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

Note

writing request for whenever: Laken and Chris go to a dinosaur museum/exhibit

CW: Referenced past pet whump, mentioned negative stimming resulting in self-injury, pet whump (different character) with intimate whumper, grief, referenced parental death, trauma response, brief reference to true crime

Timeline: Chris is 25 years old in this piece

Rafael (Raf) first appears, unnamed, in this drabble from Chris’s early college days

Laken’s hand is warm in his, their fingers intertwined, as they stand underneath the hanging bones of an enormous ancient thing like a whale but entirely unlike it, too. Chris closes his eyes, swaying lightly side to side, humming softly as he imagines it, rows of teeth with some as big as his hand, moving through oceans older than anything he can imagine, chasing down prey.

The sun shines in through the all-glass windows that make up the other side of the atrium, warming against his shirt without prickling his skin. The lights are far up and away, and the sunlight is stronger.

“Wow,” Laken murmurs, and he glances over at them to see their chin tipped back, liquid dark eyes focused on the recreated bones not so far above their head. “I’ve never been here before. Have you?”

Chris feels the hint of pain at the question, and for once it’s not in his head from memories but simply the aftermath of what he knows. “Yeah,” He answers, voice low and soft. “With my, my dad and mom. Long, um, a, a long time ago.”

Laken’s expression shifts, too, and they wince. “Sorry. I didn’t think about-”

“No,” Chris says, insists really, giving their hand a squeeze. They squeeze back, looking him over with the face they make when they’re reading his expression. He knows it’s going to happen for a while - the cut across his forehead is still bright and obvious against pale skin, although the one on his cheek is nearly healed up and gone. They’re searching, now, for signs it’ll happen again - that he’ll pull back into his head again, maybe take longer to come back out this time.

It’s-... it’s funny, now that he has the memories, he can remember his mother worrying over it, too. And his father’s soft reminders that the worry wouldn’t fix him, because fixing wasn’t what needed done.

It’s funny. To have been told no one loved him, and that was why he had to be remade into a pet, a sort of breathing toy, only to have it all break through with the constant reminders of what a fucking lie that had been.

He’s been reading about people who were kidnapped, lately. Staying up with Wikipedia open on his phone finding names and faces. The girl in Utah, the ones in Ohio, the boy in Nevada, that guy from the famous billionaire logging family who disappeared in California... all of them say, they told us we weren’t wanted by anyone else, for anything else. After a while, we believed them. What else could we do?

It’s... soothing, almost. They weren’t drugged to make it happen, but it did, anyway. It wasn’t Chris’s fault - there was no way he could have kept himself.

But getting all of it back came at the cost of scaring everyone who loves him now, leaving them all worried he’ll hurt himself again.

He doesn’t think there’s anything else in there that can hurt any more than what’s already come out from behind the flat, cold white light in his mind. But they’re not certain.

“Don’t worry,” Chris says, tilting his head and giving them a smile. “I’m, I’m, I’m okay, Laken. I promise. I, I, I, I-I-I like thinking ab, about them now.”

“Well... good. Okay. Just, let me know if I cross a line, okay?”

“I, I will.”

Laken gives his hand another squeeze and steps away to read a freestanding plaque below the bones of the belly of the creature over their heads. Chris picks up the feather necklace he’s always wearing, moving himself over to look outside, at the brilliant green lawn, the landscaping studded with blooming tulips along the walkway. There are plastic sculptures of dinosaurs out there, and Chris watches a little girl in a dinosaur-themed dress and leggings clamber up on one, giggling as she sits on the triceratops like she’s riding it and her father looks on, amused, nearby.

The world feels strange and thin, for just a moment. He feels like he’s on the other side of a wall, and if he took a hammer to it he could step through and see himself, small and gangly and young, his mother nearby with a giant purse full of all the things he might need, her jaw set and ready to fight a battle on his behalf. One she didn’t always have to fight - but she was ready for it, anyway.

His eyes roam the green area outside, scanning, looking over every child, every parent, every friend. He’s looking for her, he realizes, his hand squeezing tight around the plastic feather, rubbing his thumb hard over the vanes. He’s looking to see if she’ll be there, ten years after she was gone.

If all he’ll have to do is look hard enough, and she won’t be dead, she’ll be here, ready to load Tristan into the car to get his chicken nugget kids’ meal and go home.

If he only looks hard enough-

“What’s this one, sir?” The voice is soft, sweetly charming, and sends a chill up Chris’s spine with its perfect familiarity. Not that he’s ever heard this voice before - but he knows the tone, the way of rounding your mouth around each syllable, the subtle flirtation built into each word.

His heart stops beating - and then starts again, as he slowly turns to look over his shoulder.

Laken is across the room, now, off to one side. He can see their black hair, the way they stand with one hip slightly out is as familiar to him as his own skin. The soft blue sweater they’re wearing over black jeans and boots is his, they pulled it on this morning with a laugh when he said it looked better on them. He’s wearing one of their shirts over his compression shirt, fair’s fair, sweetheart, you get mine if I get yours. They’d laughed and said he looked so good in t-shirts for bands he never listened to. They’d both laughed.

Between him and his partner, though, is a couple - an older man with a much younger one. It’s the younger man who spoke.

The older man has a hand at the small of the younger man’s back, casually possessive, but it’s the black leather collar worn openly around the young man’s neck that catches Chris’s breath. He can almost feel the constriction around his own throat. Can almost feel the breath against the back of his neck as it’s buckled there, safe and sound, the collar means-

The collar-

The older man frowns, looking up at a large predator skeleton, then down at the plaque in front of it. “ Ac-... Arcanthosaurus,” He says, confidently mispronouncing the name. Chris knows how to say it. He knows exactly what it is. He could say everything on that plaque without looking. Therpopod, Early Cretaceous, fossils found primarily in Oklahoma, Texas, and... somewhere else, Colorado or Wyoming. He could describe its habitat, its likely diet, what its life looked like from birth to death.

The man says the name wrong, and his pretty pet, illiterate and dependent on him for every scrap of knowledge, doesn’t know any better. He only smiles and says, “That’s a pretty name.” He sounds satisfied.

But Chris sees his dark eyes flicker to the plaque and away, the curiosity quickly stifled and shoved down. He’s seen Kauri do the same thing, force himself into safe ignorance to avoid asking too many questions. He’s seen himself do it. He’s seen them all do it, if they weren’t allowed to read, to know, to ask, to think.

The younger man, Chris’s own age, has close-cropped black hair and wears a black shirt and pants clearly tailored to skim, to fit tightly without being indecent. To be a show of wealth without being ostentatious. That’s when it clicks - he’s seen the pet before, in a cafe with his friends.

The younger man must feel someone looking at him, because for just a moment, his head turns and he looks right at Chris. Their eyes meet, and Chris knows the man recognizes - if not him, then what he was, what he used to be - in a second.

The pet mouths, hi, and tries for a slight smile. He lifts one hand, just a little, and his fingers move in a slight wave.

And Chris had pretended not to see, hunched down in his seat with his heart racing until the two were gone. What were the odds he’d see the same one again? What were the fucking odds, he’d get to be a coward again, to hide from his own life. What were he odds he’d see one here?

Chris had forgotten the museums are all pet-friendly if you call ahead. So many of the places he goes now aren’t.

Suddenly, he wants to leave, to never come back, not to let the reality of his life intrude on the moment where he’d been so, so close to the memory of his mother, had nearly seen her on the grass.

“Stay here, Raf, I’m going to step over to the water fountain.” The older man kisses the younger man’s cheek, and they smile at each other, but Chris knows a pet’s smile when he sees one. He’s made the same expression, again and again, felt the snap of white-hot pain on his back or his hands whenever it wasn’t believable enough for the handler staring down at him.

The older man walks away.

For the second time, Chris is faced with the same pet standing alone in a room of people, the two of them know each other in a way no one else here ever could, not really, not without losing it all, too.

He takes a breath.

Raf - the pet - turns to look out the window at the sunlight, and for the second time in his life, Chris meets eyes with a stranger who is, in many ways, exactly like him.

The pet maybe doesn’t recognize him - without his long hair, and they only saw each other once - but he recognizes something, because his expression changes. Chris isn’t the only one staring - there are children asking soft questions in stage-whispers who are admonished by their parents, older kids staring openly in silence, two adults who see Raf and just as quickly leave the room.

In a wide, round room full of people, Raf is utterly isolated from all of them, from anyone but the man who keeps him. Chris knows the feeling.

He tells himself to move. All that happens is that he pulls on the feather necklace so hard the cord snaps, comes free, and he stares down at it, before slowly raising his eyes again.

The pet gives him a faint, sad smile.

He mouths, hi.

It’s a circle.

Somewhere just behind him, he feels the warmth of her, a hand around his shoulder. His eyes blur with tears. She’s so close, here. With the world she brought him out into comes all his memories of her, crowding in on him. Kisses to his forehead, a hand to check for a fever, arms around him to block out the heavy weight and shrieking noise of a hungry world with its jaws open to hurt him.

He can feel her hands on either side of his face, leaning her forehead to his, whispering, you’re okay, Tris, we’re going to get out of here and somewhere quiet, you’re okay. Just hold onto me.

Just hold on.

She’s so close.

He can hear her, feel her. If he could just move the right way, she wouldn’t be dead at all. If he could just undo everything, if he could fix his mistakes, if he could stay still in the closet and hide just right, if he does it just right nobody has to die and he doesn’t have to lose them and no one has to die-

One step, and then another. His mother’s voice, not forgotten, although blurred by time and loss. That’s how we start, Tris. One step, and then another. You can do this. I’m right here if you need me, but listen - you won’t. You’ve got this, baby. They’re going to love you, all those kids in there.

How, how, how, how, how can you, what if they, they don’t-

They will.

But-

One step, Tris, and then another. We’ve done it all that way, and we’ll do this that way, too.

He looks back at the green grass outside, the courtyard with the playing children and watching parents, the faint sounds of their happiness through the glass. Her hand is at his back, and Chris takes one step, and then another. His heart is in his throat, his hands shaking, his stomach is twisted in knots and a cold brick of ice inside him.

One step, and then another.

She’s so close, and if he does this just right, she’ll find him and take him home.

No.

She’s already here, no matter where he goes. Home is Jake, and Laken, and Antoni, and Kauri, and Nat. Home isn’t a place, it’s people, and he’s his mother’s home, now, the place where she lives after she’s gone.

He closes the distance between them, and stops next to the pet, holding the broken feather necklace in his hand still. The weight of the sun on his back is warm, and not too heavy.

They stand next to each other, and he looks just to the side of the pet’s eyes, focused on something else, to avoid the way looking right at him would overwhelm, be too much to take.

“You were one,” Raf says, in a low voice, sounding stunned. “But you’re not... not now.”

Chris inhales, slowly. His body screams at him to run, to move, and his mind demands he be silent, be still. Instead, he rocks, forward and back, feels the air move around him. Reminds himself he could do - could be - anything with his body that he wants to, now.

And maybe this pet can, too.

“I, I, I named myself, um, Chris,” He whispers, hoarsely.

“He calls me Rafael,” The pet replies, and his eyes move over Chris’s face. There’s an expression Chris can’t read well there, a subtle desperate want, but expressions are hard for Chris and right now the static crackling in his mind, the trains of his thought careening wildly around each other, make it even harder. “I would have liked to name myself.”

One step, his mother says, urging him into the gym, where some other kids are already doing backflips and tumbling on mats. One step and then another.

“You can... can do that. If you, um, if, if, if you-you... run.”

“I-... I couldn’t do that.” The pet looks off to the side, but his owner is still in the bathroom. There’s fear in his voice - that Chris can read without trying. Fear, he knows so well. “Where would I go?”

Chris manages a faint, thin smile. He wants to shake apart. He settles for holding out the feather. “Home,” He whispers.

Come on, Tris. You can do this. I believe in you.

“Home is-”

“Home is, is, isn’t this. It isn’t-... it, it, it isn’t him. It’s not an, any of, of, of of of them.”

“But-”

“5-5-5,” Chris says softly. Sweat sticks his compression shirt to his back, cold trickles down the back of his neck. His heart pounds so hard his lungs have no room for air, his voice is breathless, barely even a whisper, now. “7-2-3-3. They’ll, they’ll help you. Call them.”

Rafael looks down at the feather, and slowly takes the soft purple silicone into his hand, rubbing his fingers over the carved plastic, then looks back up. “I love him,” He says, softly. “I was-”

“Made for, for him,” Chris finishes, not wanting to hear it in the other pet’s voice. Hating the idea that they both know every single phrase by heart, forever, and they can’t undo that. “But... I was, was, was, too. And I’m not, now.”

Rafael slides the feather into his back pocket, looking to the side, at the pristine, cloudless blue sky visible above the courtyard through the thick glass. “5-5-5,” He says, softly, “7-2-3-3.”

“Call,” Chris says, his voice failing him as his fear keeps rising. He has to swallow and steady himself to speak again. “Someone... somebody, somebody l-loved you.”

“But-”

“They, they, they lied to us.” It feels so weird to say it out loud, but he does. He can’t stop himself. “They lie to, to, to to-... to-to... to us all. Someone, somebody loved you.”

He has to go, he can’t be still a second longer, and he walks away without waiting for a response. His timing is perfect - he steps up to Laken just as the pet’s owner comes back from the restroom, sweeping past Chris - pretty but scarred, nothing special, please god don’t look at me - and moving back to Rafael, who smiles up at him with the same perfect, pristine affection Chris has seen in himself and in Kauri and in every single one of the ones like them.

Practiced at the edge of a knife, the lash of a whip, the crack of a cane, until they can turn it on and off on command, at will, whenever they need the smile to keep themselves safe.

Laken turns to him as he stops next to them, looking him over, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “You okay? Oh, hey, your feather’s gone. What happened?”

He allows himself a glance over his shoulder, sees the pet and his owner moving to another room, walking together. The hand at the small of Rafael’s back.

The broken cords from the necklace just barely visible sticking out of his pocket before Chris watches him push them further in to hide them.

“I, I, I gave it to, um, to someone,” He says, turning back to them, leaning over to kiss their cheek, barely a brush. “I, I, I need to go outside. The, um, the everything... can, can we, um, can we go-”

“Yeah, sure. No problem. Do we need to, like, go go, or...”

“No.” Chris looks up at the dinosaur Rafael had been looking at. “Oh, I, I, forgot to tell him it’s acrocanthosaurus.”

“What?”

“Um, noth-... nothing. Let’s, um, let’s go outside for for for a while.”

Laken hand slides back into his and they walk out the opposite door that Rafael went through, Chris’s hand moving to tap on his own hip as he walks, calming himself with each quick rush of sensation.

“Hey, hey Laken?”

“Yeah?”

“Remind me, um, remind me to, to, to-to-to call Nat later. Okay?”

“Sure. Why?”

They walk down a set of stairs, people moving quickly past or around them. He misses the weight of the feather over his chest, but he has more at home. And now there’s a pet with proof, tangible and real, that there’s a life to be made by leaving.

A life worth living.

A life worth running without looking back.

“I, I, I want to tell her to, um, to tell the groups to... to see if someone calls them. I want to, to, to... to know if he does.”

“Who?”

“Um, I’ll, I’ll tell you, you... out, out, outside, okay?”

Somewhere inside him, as his pounding heart calms, his mother says, I’m so proud of you when he tells her that he spoke up.

He knows Nat will say it, too.

They surprise a bird in a burst of red wings out of a bush as they move outside, and Chris watches it fly across the courtyard and disappear into the canopy of a tree.

One step, and then another, to build the man he is out of the boy he was before.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump , @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @vickytokio @wildfaewhump

155 notes · View notes

watchyourbluesturngolden · 4 years ago

Text

cats and babies

This is the first piece I’ve ever written so if anyone sees this be nice pls and thank u

There could be typos/ weird formatting, this was typed entirely on my phone

I also feel the need to say all of my medical knowledge is from Grey’s anatomy and googling things I saw on grey’s anatomy so this is probably not that accurate ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Word count: 6,160

Warnings: Car accidents, blood, angst (but with a v happy ending ofc bc sad endings are Not For Me), hospitals/medical stuff, again a very happy ending, I would like to emphasize the happy ending so no one gets scared away from reading this, did I mention there’s a happy ending?

"So, what'd'ya say? Chinese?"

They were deciding where to go for dinner after a long day of touring their favorite art museums. Harry and Y/N had been dating about two years now, and (cheesy as it sounds) they loved each other more and more every day.

"Chinese sounds great," Y/N smiled, glancing over at Harry. The golden sun reflected off his curls, making him look absolutely angelic.

He smiled, which turned into a chuckle, which turned into full blown laughter. She was confused. "What is it?" What's so hilariou- eyes on the road!!"

"Sorry, sorry," he laughed. "Nothing, just- do you-" he breathed slowly, calming down a bit. "Do you remember the first time we had Chinese food? She blushed, laughing with him at the memory.

Their first date had been... disastrous, to say the least. They had both been nervous, but both trying to act confident. They had decided on a nice, fancy, black tie restaurant, and Y/N was excited. When he picked her up in a limousine, she was hardly unable to contain herself.

However, their plan fell apart almost from the beginning. When they got to the place, a big red sign read "CLOSED FOR REPAIRS"

"Ooook... that's... weird," Y/N had grimaced. "What should we do now?"

"Uh... we could... try the one a few blocks over? Yeah, that's a good place too, I know the owner. He always has a table for me. That'll work!"

Y/N hasn't quite cared about the wrench thrown into their plans. She really liked Harry so far, and she though he liked her too. So she chirped "Sure! Sounds great."

She hadn't noticed how embarrassed he looked when he opened the car door for her. He couldn't believe his luck! He was finally on a date with a girl he really liked, really wanted to impress, and the best restaurant in town closed with no notice? How could this happen? But he shook it off, climbing in after her and alerting the driver of their change of plans.

When they got to the next place, Harry immediately got worried. It looked very crowded, and while the owner usually held a table for Harry, it didn't seem so tonight.

He pulled out his phone.

"Hey, Luke! Yeah, I'm great! Listen, do you by any chance have a table-" He paused, and then his face fell. His voice kept its happy tone, though. "No, no problem at all, I understand. Yeah, for sure, a different night. Thank you!" He hung up, looking more than a little dejected.

Y/N put a hand on his arm. "It's ok, I promise. I swear I didn't just agree to go out with you for the fancy food. We can go anywhere, 'Im really not upset!"

"Agh, thank you. You're very sweet. But really, you deserve a fancy place. Only it seems everyone in the world is determined to make sure we don't get to do that," He huffed. "Maybe..." And he pulled out his phone again. He glanced at her curious face. "How do you feel about Chinese?" He asked sheepishly.

Y/N beamed. "I love it," and there was no trace of insincerity on her face.

"Right then, Chinese it is!" he found the closest place on his phone, telling the driver the address.

After a few minutes of eating, Y/N looked around the table for a fork. She could handle big foods, like the chicken, with the chopsticks, but definitely not the rice.

Harry asked what she needed. She was a bit embarrassed to tell him she wasn't good enough with chopsticks to eat her rice, but he was kind about it. He helped show her how to use them without making too big of a mess. Still, she dropped half her plate on a napkin in her lap.

At the end of their meal, Y/N burst out laughing when she picked up her napkin. Harry looked at her, confused, until she placed what was basically a full serving of rice on the table. He was also unable to contain his laughter, to which Y/N responded by throwing a few grains of rice at him.

He threw a balled up napkin at her, and she blew a straw wrapper in his face. This escalated until she splashed what was left of her water glass on him. There was stunned silence for a moment, and Y/N thought she went too far. Then he looked at her and burst into laughter. She sighed in relief, laughing with him. "I'm sorry, that was too much," but she couldn't keep the smile off her face at the sight of the water dripping down his face.

"A little water never hurt anyone," he said, his eyes twinkling as he splashed her with his own water.

Y/N was pulled from the happy memory of their first date when the car skidded on the ice.

"Careful... if I'd known it was this slippery we'd have found a closer place," she said nervously.

"Nah, we've talked about this, the only good place is the one two towns over. I understand you love Minnesota and all but it is NOT the best place to find good Chinese food," he smirked.

"I will not have this Minnesota slander, not in this house. Maybe you're the issue, with your sophisticated taste and all," Y/N said, laughing at his disgruntled look. "Sophisticated? I took you for Chinese food on our first date. Nothing about that screams "sophisticated" to me."

"Yeah, but we were dressed VERY fancy. That counts," Y/N laughed.

"Oh really? that's what makes me sophisticated? alright then, you're right, I'm, extremely-"

The car slid just a little too far for Y/N's liking.

"Harry, are you sure it's safe to be driving on this? I think it's getting worse, and- look, it's starting to rain." She checked the weather on her phone. "Yeah, it's at that weird temperature where it's halfway freezing. The road will be worse on the way back."

"I think we're ok," He reassured her. "The car has 4 wheel drive, and I'll go slow. I think the biggest danger is us not getting our Chinese food," he smiled at her. "Uh, no," Y/N said, rolling her eyes. "I'd say the biggest danger is crashing and dying in a firey car wreck."

"Always so negative, Y/N," Harry laughed. "We're perfectly fine-" he spoke too soon, because right then the car slid again. A lot, this time. They almost slid right through a stop sign.

Y/N clutched the armrest.

"We're almost there, you better not kill me before I get my Chinese food, Styles. I finally know how to eat rice with chopsticks without..." She stopped halfway through her sentence because she was laughing so hard. "Without... dropping all of it on my lap."

They dissolved into giggles, especially when Harry said, "got any more water to throw at me?"

The car slid once more, and Y/N felt her pocket nervously. She had bought a ring for Harry. It was nothing too special, but it was the one year anniversary of the first time they had gone to an art museum together. She wanted to commemorate that with something special, so she had gone to the museum gift shop and found the perfect ring. It had a silver band, a little thinner than the rest of his, and a labradorite stone set into it. She thought it would complement his other jewelry nicely.

She kept her hand on the little box in her pocket, careful not to make Harry suspicious.

He wasn't looking at her, though; he was completely focused on the road. His hands gripped the wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Y/N felt a little more nervous seeing this. Harry was an excellent driver, and he usually had one hand on the wheel and the other holding hers. He only gripped the wheel this tightly when he felt unsafe driving.

Y/N looked out at the darkening sky. She was not a fan of storms, especially ones that make the roads icy. Like a true Minnesotan, she knew that under the right circumstances, a bit of rain could make it nearly impossible to drive.

A car sped past them, almost veering into their lane when it went over a particularly icy patch.

"Harry, really, I don't know if we should keep going," Y/N said nervously.

"I know, but I'm not sure what we should do. I think it's safer to just keep going and hope the rain stops. We're about 10 minutes away, but if we turn around it's almost a 2 hour drive."

"Yeah... you're right. It's better to just keep going. Just... go slow," Y/N said, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Stop doing that," Harry chided in a singsong voice.

"How can you even tell? you weren't even looking at me," Y/N laughed.

"I know how you are when you're nervous, Y/N. Biting your cheek won't do anything but hurt."

Y/N smiled. She had never had someone care this much about her. Someone who knew her this well, almost better than she knew herself. She was so hopelessly in love...

She was so busy thinking about what she would say when she gave him the ring that she didn't hear the horn blaring. She looked up just in time to see the truck driving straight down the middle of the road towards them.

She could tell instantly the driver of the truck couldn't do anything. He was sliding on the ice like they had before. Harry jerked the wheel to the right, moving the car out of the way.

It wasn't enough.

Y/N heard a horribly loud crashing noise, and then there was nothing.

Y/N shot straight up out of the bed she was in, gasping. Someone put their hands on her shoulders, trying to soothe her and get her to lay back down. She pushed the hands away as her vision came into focus. She was in a room filled with people and noise and 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦.

She panicked for a minute before she realized where she was. Clearly an Emergency Room. There were 4 doctors and nurses around her, checking her eyes, ears, reflexes, pulse, breathing. She threw her arms out to try and get some space. One of the nurses caught her hand, holding it in both of hers.

"Y/N, you're alright. You're in the hospital. You were in a car accident. Do you have any pain? Whe-"

"Harry! Where's Harry?? I need to see him, I have to, I have to go-" She stuttered as she pushed the doctors away from her, trying to get up again.

The same nurse held her back.

"Y/N, we need to make sure you're ok before you can get up. If you let us help, you'll be able to see Harry sooner. Can you lay back? Do you have any pain?"

"No, no I'm fine, I'm ok! I need to see Harry, I need to know if he's ok! Please!" Y/N looked frantically around at the doctors, hoping one of them knew something.

The doctor who appeared to be in charge ordered, "Someone go get an update on the guy they brought in with her. See how he's doing."

"Thank you, thank you so much," Y/N breathed, finally laying back.

"There we go. Do you have any pain Y/N?" The nurse asked again.

"No, I'm totally fine. I'm- " Y/N brushed her hair out of her face. When are brought her arm down, she saw that her hand was covered in blood. "I'm bleeding!" She cried, panicking.

"It's ok, it's not too bad," one of the doctors said, examining her head. "It looks like it'll need maybe 5 or 6 stitches. We can fix that up right away."

Y/N closed her eyes. How had this happened? Harry moved the wheel, she knew he did. How had they crashed this badly?

The doctor who had been sent to check on Harry came back into the room. Y/N snapped her eyes open, looking at her expectantly.

"He is stable. That's the important thing right now. However, he's been pretty badly injured. He broke his femur and clavicle. He has a small brain bleed, and he is covered in cuts from the glass. He's also pretty bruised from the airbag and seatbelt. He is intubated, because he was having some trouble breathing. He might need surgery to repair the brain bleed, but right now they're waiting and hoping it will get better on it's own."

Y/N exhaled. "But... he's ok? I mean... he's alive?"

The doctor smiled. "Yes. He's doing ok."

Y/N finally allowed herself to breathe. She noticed she was crying but she didn't do anything to wipe her tears away.

"Ok, Y/N," said the doctor stitching up her face. "I'm finished here. You need to stay here for a little while longer so we can monitor you. There is an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated. If you need anything, call for a nurse. Also, and this is important, don't get out of this bed without someone helping you. You've been through a lot today, but the adrenaline is wearing off, which might make you feel shaky. Do you need anything right now?"

"No, I'm... I'm fine. Thank you," Y/N said, wiping her eyes.

After he left her bed, she felt her pocket. She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the ring still there. Then she mentally kicked herself for being worried about a silly ring when Harry was... no. She wouldn't let herself think that. Harry was 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦. They were both alive, and they were both ok.

About an hour later, a nurse came in. After confirming that she felt totally fine, Y/N anxiously asked when she could see Harry.

"I'm sorry, the ICU is family only," The nurse said. She really did look sorry, but this did nothing to make Y/N feel better.

"I- I'm his wife!" Y/N said quickly, not even thinking. She most definitely was 𝘯𝘰𝘵 his wife. She wasn't even his fiancee. She slipped the ring from her pocket onto her finger, then held up her hand to the nurse.

The nurse pretended not to notice the fact that the ring hadn't been there before, and that the ring was easily a size too big. "Oh! Then of course you can see him," She said, helping Y/N off the bed slowly. "I'll take you to his room."

"Thank you so much," Y/N said, taking her first few steps slowly.

"Careful- you're still attached to this IV pole," The nurse said, adjusting the tubing so it wasn't in her way. "You can hold onto it for support- yes, just like that."

Y/N got more nervous with every step towards Harry's room. What would he look like? Would he be in pain? Would he know who she was? Would he... be mad at her?

When she walked into his room, she almost started crying all over again. He looked, well, awful. He was covered in cuts and bruises. He had several tubes and wires connected to him, as well as a large tube taped in his mouth. He had a cast on his leg and a sling on his arm.

Y/N looked at the nurse who was taking his vitals.

"How is he?" She asked in a small voice.

"He's ok for now. He is stable, which is very good. He's unconscious, but we hope to see him wake up soon. You can sit with him, hold his hand, talk to him. If you need anything, just press the call button."

She left, leaving Y/N and Harry alone. This time, she really did start crying. This was awful, and it was all her fault. She was the one who wanted to go for Chinese food. She was the one who picked today, the first wintery stormy day of the year to go for a long drive. And now..

"Harry... Harry I'm so sorry," Y/N said, sniffling. She held onto his hand, the one that wasn't attached to a broken collarbone. "This is all my fault, and now you're... and I got off with nothing but a cut on my forehead, and it's not fair and I'm so sorry," She let out a sob.

She continued on like this, crying and talking and crying some more, for a few hours, before she fell asleep in the chair next to him. She woke up around 9 the next morning with a stiff next and puffy eyes. She looked at his face, still covered in bruises, and kissed his hand. The nurse came in to check on him and told Y/N to go get some breakfast, reminding her that she couldn't care for Harry if she didn't care for herself. Y/N reluctantly agreed, going as fast as she could. The nurse had disconnected her IV sometime in the night, and she could move much faster without it.

She got back to the room with her bagel and resumed her position in the chair right next to Harry. She talked to him as if he was awake, imagining she heard his beautiful voice responding to her.

She had managed to keep the crying to a minimum today. She kept telling herself that if- no, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 Harry woke up, she didn't want to look like a monster with red eyes.

Her phone had been found by some paramedics, so she found Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone online and began to read to him. It was a little weird, but Harry loved these books, especially when he was sick.

Y/N was used to just imagining she heard his voice with her in the room, but suddenly she heard something that wasn't her. She gasped.

"He's choking!! Nurse!!" She yelled for help, frantically pushing the call button. "Help!"

Several nurses rushed in. One ushered Y/N back and out of the room, telling her to give them space to work.

"What's- What's happening? What are they doing??" Y/N tried to go back in, but the nurse held her shoulders.

"He's trying to breathe over the tube, Y/N. That's a very good sign. It means he's breathing on his own," The nurse said, trying to keep Y/N calm.

"Does- does that mean he's waking up?" Y/N asked, not wanting to get her hopes up.

"Not for sure, but it's a very good sign."

After a few minutes, the nurses came out of Harry's room, looking excited. "Y/N, he's awake! He's very groggy and can't speak yet, but he is definitely awake. You can go in and sit with him again if you'd like. We gave him some more medicine for the pain, so you have about 15 minutes to talk before he starts going a little..." She made a swirling motion next to her head.

Y/N didn't care if he was high on morphine. She just cared that he was alive and awake and didn't... hate her.

Harry was laying in the bed, looking at her with great concern in his tired eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but no noise came out. Y/N rushed over to take his hand.

"It's ok, they said you might not be able to talk for a little while yet. It's ok, I'm here, it's ok," Y/N said, smoothing his hair.

Harry cleared his throat, coughing. He gestured toward the water cup on his side table.

"Oh, of course." Y/N picked up the pitcher and poured him a glass, setting it in his good hand.

He raised the straw shakily to his lips as Y/N watched carefully to make sure he didn't spill. She gently lifted the cup out of his hands when he held it up to her.

His small smile was enough to make Y/N cry all over again.

"Oh, Harry," She cried, holding her head in her hands. "It's all my fault. I'm so sorry this happened, I did this to you- you almost died!"

"W-what?"

Y/N whipped her head up. "You can talk?" She said, overjoyed.

Harry coughed and spoke again. "Of course I can talk."

His voice was rough and it sounded like it hurt everytime he spoke, but it was the most beautiful thing Y/N had ever heard.

"What are you talking about, it's all your fault?" He rasped, looking utterly confused. "What even happened?"

With tears leaking from her eyes, Y/N explained all she knew, which still wasn't much. Harry remembered everything as she told him, both their eyes watering as her voice shook.

"Why... why're you crying? Does your forehead hurt? I can call the nurse..." He reached for the call button.

"No, no, I'm ok," She took his hand in hers. "I'm just so sorry, because it honestly is my fault, I'm the one who wanted Chinese food and picked 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 of all days to drive 2 hours away and-"

He cut her off by raising his finger to her lips.

"It's not your fault... it's mine. I'm the one who convinced you the only good Chinese food is so far away and I'm the one who was driving. I couldn't keep you safe..."

Harry had never looked so sad.

"No!" Y/N exclaimed. "Do you not see me right now? I'm absolutely fine, you did keep me safe. You swerved out of the way... wait a minute," She paused, realization hitting her. "You didn't think we could avoid the truck at all, did you? You knew it would hit us either way, but you made sure it would hit as far from me as possible."

Harry looked down. "I figured you're more important than me, I had to do what I could."

"Harry Styles!" Y/N whisper-yelled. "If you weren't so 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 I would 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘬 you right now! How could you do that? How could you put yourself in 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 like that?"

"Oh, that's actually why I got so injured, because I knew you'd try to hit me for this," He smiled charmingly at Y/N. She just scowled.

"Did you really expect me to just say, "oh well, guess she's a goner! bye Y/N! nice knowin' ya!" No, of course not. Of course I'd put myself in danger for you. Always."

Y/N's lip trembled. "Why do you have to be so romantic after you do such stupid things? it makes it really hard to stay mad at you," She said, wiping her eyes.

"Yeah, that was the goal there," He laughed.

Then he caught sight of the ring on her finger.

"That's pretty, when did you get that?" He mock gasped. "Did you get engaged while I was in a coma?"

“No," Y/N laughed. "It's funny actually. I bought it from the museum gift shop. I wanted to give it to you as a present, for the anniversary of the first time we went there together. I was going to give it to you over Chinese food, and it was going to be 𝘢𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 and 𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘨𝘪𝘤 and 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭."

Harry smiled. "That's lovely of you, darling. Why... why's it on your finger though?"

"Oh! right." Y/N sheepishly pulled the ring off her finger. "They wouldn't let me see you because I'm not family, so I threw it on and said we were married," She said, blushing furiously. "Sorry about that."

Harry smiled. "Why are you sorry?"

"Um... we're 𝘯𝘰𝘵 married... so... I don't know, I just thought you might think it's weird, or, something..." Y/N finished lamely. She held the ring out to him.

"Happy anniversary."

"Why don't you keep it?"

"Right, of course, you don't need a reminder of this day," Y/N slipped the ring back into her pocket, on the verge of tears because she messed up 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.

"No, that's not... I meant, why don't you keep it... on your finger?"

She pulled the ring out of her pocket again, looking confused. "Why?"

Harry plucked it out of her hand, holding it up to her. "Because I want you to marry me," He said, slipping it onto her finger with the sweetest smile she had ever seen.

Y/N smiled at him. "It's ok, Harry, you're very high on all the painkillers right now. I won't hold you to anything you say," She laughed a little.

"I'm not... why would I be on painkiller... oh yeah," Harry grinned, looking around. "I remember why I'm high right now."

"Riiight."

"I might be high, but I still want to marry you," he said is a singsong voice.

Y/N laughed. "Harry, why don't we talk about this when you're sober, ok?"

Harry pouted. "Please? Please marry me? I love you, and you're so pretty, and you're so nice to animals..." He started crying, apparently at how nice Y/N was to animals. "And... a cat! We can get a cat together!"

"Harry, baby, don't cry, of course we can get a cat," She gently wiped the tears from his bruised face.

"I won't stop crying until you say you'll marry me," Harry said defiantly, gripping Y/N's arm. "Pleeeaaase?"

"Ok, Harry, yes, I will marry you. Sure. You can stop crying now, ok?"

"That's good, I'm glad, because you're my favorite person, and I looooove you, and you're my baaaaby..."

At this point Harry was just singing random words, usually circling back to "baaaaby" and "looooove youuuu".

Y/N felt happy for the first time in what felt like years, while really it had been less than 24 hours.

Eventually, he wanted to see the ring again. Y/N held up her hand and he gasped.

"It's so beautiful! I'll buy you a real one though, a real ring for our real wedding. Then we'll get a real house and have real babies, and a real cat," He said, with the dopiest grin Y/N had ever seen.

"Oh? We'll have babies, huh? How many babies will we have?"

"3," He answered quickly. "Two girls and a boy. No... 4. Two of each. That way they won't team up one of them."

"Oh, sounds like you've thought about this a lot," Y/N laughed.

"Every single day since we started dating, you know why?"

"Why?"

He motioned for her to lean closer.

"Because I looooove you," He sang in her ear.

She pulled back, kissing his swollen cheek.

"You're a sweetheart," She said affectionately.

"So're you," He smiled.

"I kind of like drugged Harry," Y/N laughed. "He's very cute."

"Drugged Harry also likes drugged Harry, he feels like he's floating."

"Oh, so drugged Harry talks about himself in the third person?"

"He does now!" Harry smiled at her again. "Drugged Harry is tired... he's just going to..."

Then the monitors started beeping rapidly. Several nurses ran in, bustling around and shouting various medical terminology. Another nurse ushered Y/N out of Harry's room for the second time that day.

"No! No, I need to stay with him! I can't-"

"Shh... it's alright. They're going to do everything they can to help him. You have to let them help him. Why don't we go to the waiting room?"

Y/N exhaled shakily. If she couldn't stay with Harry, she might as well sit instead of hovering around the corner.

"Yes, let's go to the waiting room," She said, after a few deep breaths.

Y/N had been sitting on the waiting room for what felt like an eternity, but a glance at her phone told her it had only been 45 minutes.

A woman in a surgical gown approached her, and Y/N stood up quickly. "What happened?" She asked immediately.

"Unfortunately, your husband's brain bleed did not resolve itself like we had hoped. He is in surgery, and for right now he's doing well," the surgeon said, looking sympathetic.

"Ok... why did the monitors freak out? Did his heart stop? Is he going to wake up from surgery?"

"The monitors went off because his heart was having trouble, but they were able to resuscitate him through CPR and defibrillation. It's too soon to know if he will wake up, but the surgeon is hopeful. I will come back to update you as soon as I can."

"Ok, thank you," Y/N said, sinking back into her chair.

She felt a pain in her chest, like real, actual pain. What would she do without Harry? How would she live with herself, knowing he died trying to save her?

She caught a glimpse of the ring on her finger and choked back a sob. Would she tell people she was engaged? No, of course not. Harry had been completely out of his mind when he'd asked her.

She slumped down in her chair, wanting to curl up and cry. Instead, she called her mom. Through her tears, she explained everything that happened.

"Oh, honey," Her mom sighed. "I'm so sorry. I'm on my way. I'll be there in about 7 hours, I'm sorry it'll take so long. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?"

"No, I can't," Y/N sniffled. "I have to call Harry's family."

"Do you want me to do that? I wouldn't mind, they're-"

"No, mom, thank you, but I should. I- I'm going to go. Love you," Y/N said, hanging up the phone.

Checking her phone, Y/N realized it was the middle of the night in London where Harry's family lived. She didn't think she should wait, so she called Anne without another thought.

"Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry. We're getting the soonest flight. We won't be there until tomorrow morning. Will you be alright alone? Is your mother coming?"

"Yes, my mom's on her way. I'm ok, thank you," Y/N said, rubbing her eyes.

After she hung up the phone, it set in just how exhausted she was. She had slept poorly the night before, because of the awkwardness of sleeping in a chair and because she was so, so, worried for Harry.

She drifted into a fitful sleep where she dreamed of cars crashing, rings flying around, and Harry standing just out of her reach. He was like a rainbow, the closer she got to him, the more he faded.

She startled awake and realized there were tears on her face. She checked her phone, seeing that it had only been 3 hours.

She saw the same woman from before approaching her, this time wearing just scrubs.

Y/ N stood to meet her.

"Harry is out of surgery and doing well. We were able to repair the brain bleed. His heart stopped on the table," Y/N gasped at this, "But we were able to get him back. His ribs will be very sore and possibly even broken. All that aside, he is doing well, Mrs. Styles, and you can see him now," She said, Leading Y/N to the elevator.

Her breath trembled as they walked towards his room.

Harry was laying in his bed, looking like a fragile child. Even though he was so much bigger than her, right now he seemed so... small.

Y/N looked at the nurse, asking to sit with him. She nodded and explained that two of his ribs were fractured and his collarbone would hurt him a lot when he woke up.

Y/N held his hand with a featherlight touch, unwilling to jostle him even the smallest bit.

After about an hour of her reading to him, she felt a small movement, barely even noticeable. Was it...?

She felt another movement. This time she was sure of it. He was squeezing her hand.

"I'm here Harry, I'm right here," She soothed, moving her chair closer to him.

He groaned sleepily before opening his emerald eyes and looking at her.

"Hi," he smiled, squeezing her hand again.

"Hi," Y/N said, crying more than a little bit.

"What... did... are you ok?" Harry's brow furrowed. He seemed to have a hundred questions, but he settled on asking how she was.

"Yes, Harry, I'm ok. How do you feel?"

"Hurts," he said, closing his eyes. "But if you're ok, so am I."

Y/N kissed his hand. "I see drugged Harry is still here? The one that is 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 cute and sweet?"

"No, he's not. This is just regular Harry. I can tell because everything 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 hurts," He said with a small grimace.

"Oh, I'll get the nurse. They'll give you something," Y/N started to get up, but Harry's grip on her hand tightened.

"Wait," he said pulling her back to him. "Before they make me go all loopy, I just want to say-" He paused, looking at the ring on her finger. "I love you, to my fiancee. I think it counts more when I'm not high."

"Your- your fiancee? Harry, I told you I wouldn't hold you to anything you said before. You weren't in your right mind at all, I didn't even think you'd remember saying all that."

"Yeah, but I remember asking you to marry me and you said yes. You might not be holding me to anything I said, but I'm holding you to that," He grinned. "You really want to deny a dying man his last... dying... wish?"

Harry flopped his good arm dramatically over his forehead, wincing at the motion. Y/N helped him slowly lower it again.

"First of all, you're not dying. Secondly, I don't want you to go through with this because you feel obligated, or because you think I'll be upset if you aren't ready to propose. It's totally fine, I promise, but why don't we talk about this when you're feeling better?"

"No, I feel fine," He insisted.

Y/N gave him a look. "Really? You do? Aren’t you the one who just needed help moving your arm?"

"Irrelevant. I feel fine, like, mentally. If you don't think you're ready to be engaged to me, that's ok. But don't say no because you think I didn't mean it. I did, with every part of me. I love you, and I want you to be my wife."

"...Really?" Y/N asked, cheeks heating up.

"Really," Harry smiled.

"And according to drugged Harry, you want to have a cat and 4 children."

Harry laughed, wincing immediately.

"Don't make me laugh, my chest really hurts," He said, still holding her hand.

"Sorry, sorry, they said you have some broken ribs. Also your collarbone. Also your femur. Geez, Styles, you're kind of a mess," You laughed.

"Yeah, really," He smiled. "But seriously, will you? Will you be my wife?"

"Of course I will, Harry. I love you so much, of course I will," Y/N said, gently kissing his cheek.

"Great," Harry beamed at her. "Now that we've worked that out, can you get the nurse? Drugged Harry is ready to make a comeback."

"Oh, right, sorry," Y/N said, reaching over for the call button.

The nurse came in, giving Harry more medicine.

"You'll start to have some relief within a few minutes," She said, leaving them alone again.

"One more thing Y/N," Harry said. She could already tell he was a little more relaxed. "I have to get you a ring!"

Y/N smiled, holding up her hand. "I already have one, remember?"

Harry waved her hand away. "No, no, a bride can't buy her own ring! What kind of... chivalrous... gentleman... would I be if I didn't buy you a beautiful ring?"

"Ok, Harry, as soon as you get out of here, we'll go ring shopping," Y/N promised.

"And... to the cat shelter? You said we could get a cat... a kitty, a cat, a little kitty cat..."

Harry had started singing mumbled words about cats and love and babies. Y/N knew it was going to be a long night. Still, she had never been happier.

#harry styles #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #happy ending #car accident #fanfiction #the first thing i've ever written #reader insert #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfiction

238 notes · View notes

noladyme · 4 years ago

Text

My Only Sunshine - Chapter 1

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

TW: Blood

It was a warm night, and I was wearing my favorite summer dress, seated on a velvet couch, in an old house.

“Well, miss Sunday. Thank you very much for coming all the way out here to speak to me. I’ll go over your resumé one more time, but I think I’ve heard all I need”. The dark-haired, pale man gave me a friendly smile. I knew better than to reach out my hand for him to shake, and simply got up to stand, and nodded at him. “Thank you, Mr. Compton”, I smiled. “Just let me know if there’s anything else you need… So, interview over?”. “Interview’s over”, he said. “Good! Calling you Mr. Compton was getting weird!”, I laughed. “Well, you did insist”. “It was a job-interview. It was only proper”, I shrugged.

Bill Compton walked me to his front door, and I was about to say goodbye, when he halted, just before going for the doorknob. “There is one thing, I wanted to ask you; and seeing as you’ve been so forthcoming with me, on everything else…”. The vampire narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”, I said. “Why did you decide to apply for the position as my day-person?”, he asked. I smiled embarrassedly. “Honestly… I need the money”, I said. “I’ve been hoping to pay down my student loan, but taking up extra shifts down at Merlotte’s just isn’t cutting it”.

“That’s not what I meant”, he said. “You just don’t strike me as the type of person to take a job for a vampire”. He raised an intrigued brow at me. “Not enough fang marks on me?”, I chuckled. The vampire chuckled, and it seemed that if he’d been able to blush, he would have. “You’re offering a good salary for what seems like an easy job; and one that I can do while still staying on with Sam. The fact that you’re a vampire doesn’t really matter to me”. “Why not?”, he asked. “Why should it?”, I retorted. “Some might say it’s dangerous to work for one of us”, the vampire said. “You’re no more likely to hurt me than any other vampire around – or human for that matter”, I said. “Besides; Sookie speaks highly of you, and I trust her”. “Well, she speaks highly of you as well”, he said.

He seemed to think for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. “If you want this job, it’s yours”, he said. My jaw dropped. “Really?”, I asked. The vampire confirmed it with a nod. “Thank you, Bill. You won’t regret it…! One thing, though… Day-person? Can’t we call it… secretary? Or assistant?”. He chuckled warmly as he opened the door for me to leave. “Please come by tomorrow. I’ll have a list for you with some things I need handled”, Bill said, as I went down the steps of the porch. “8 pm?”, I asked. “That sounds perfect”, Bill said. “See you then”. He handed me back the “resumé”, which I’d written on the back of a paper placemat from Merlotte’s. As I took it, I got a slight papercut on my finger. “Shit”, I muttered. Bill smiled slightly. “Would you like me to fetch you a band-aid?”. “Nah…”, I said, and looked at the trickle of blood. “You hungry?”, I teased. “I think Sookie might have a problem with me feeding from a friend”. “Alright”, I shrugged.

I began fishing my car keys out of my bag, and cursed to myself, as they fell from my hand, and landed in the gravel on the ground. I was about to crouch to pick them up; when I felt a gush of wind, and suddenly stood nose to chest with a very tall man. I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eyes. They were bright blue, and had a sharpness to them. “Hello”, he said, a cheery mischievous tone to his voice. “Hi”, I said, and went to pick up my keys again. The man – vampire, I realized – held them out to me, before I even so much as bent over. “Fuck, you’re fast”, I gasped. He put the keys in my outstretched hand, and grabbed my wrist, to look at my bleeding finger. “When I want to be”, he smiled. “Bill, who is this? Introduce us”.

Bill stepped of his porch, and walked warily towards us. “Eric Northman… This is Liv Sunday”. I found it hard to break eye contact with the tall vampire, mostly because he was one of the most handsome people I’d ever met. “Liv”, Eric said. He dragged out the sound of my name, pronouncing it Leev. “Yours…? She smells… pure”. I managed to look away, and turned my gaze to Bills face instead. His jaw was clenched. “My assistant”, Bill repeated, put a hand on my arm, and went to stand half way in front of me. The tall vampire let go of my wrist. “Off limits”. “I’m a big girl, Bill", I said. “I can speak for myself". “Yes, she’s a big girl, Bill", Eric smiled. “Let her speak for herself". I frowned at the tall vampire, and shook my head. “That means you too, Vlad", I said. A grin ghosted his face.

Eric leaned his head forwards, and burrowed his eyes even deeper into mine. “Liv… You’re interesting”, he said. “Please. Tell me more about you”. “Eric!”, Bill growled. “Why have you come?”. “To discuss matters surrounding the conference. It is election year, after all”, the other vampire replied, never taking his eyes off mine. “Now stop interrupting my conversation with… Liv”. The vampire-testosterone was heavy in the air, and I swallowed hard. “Maybe some other time”, I said. “Oh come now…”, Eric smiled, his eyes digging even deeper. I frowned at him. “I said no!”, I sneered. The tall vampire seemed taken aback, and Bills eyes widened. “Ok… I’m just gonna go”, I said.

Bill followed me all the way over to my car, and held the door for me as I climbed in. I opened the window to let some air into the cabin. “Drive safely now”, Bill said. “See you at 8 tomorrow. I’ll give your regards to Sookie”. Eric smiled at me. “It was nice meeting you, Liv”, he said. “Until next time”. His intense gaze made heat pool in my lower stomach, and I had to consciously tell myself to put the key in the ignition.

I drove home to my one-bedroom rental feeling happy that I’d nailed my job interview; and stirred from meeting Eric. I supposed he always had that influence on people; Bill probably just turned his mojo down, because he had Sookie, and didn’t need to impress people in the same way. Bill was the second vampire I’d met that I’d actually spoken to, since they came out of the coffin. Eric was the third, so I didn’t have much to compare him too; but I read magazines as much as the next person.

When I got inside, I took a cold shower; trying to shake the meeting out of my system. Before I climbed into bed, I checked my messages, and saw that Sookie had sent me a text, congratulating me on my new side-gig with Bill. I sent her one back, thanking her for hooking me up with the interview.

Sookie had been a good friend every since I got to town. I’d been down on my luck since leaving San Diego; but Bon Temps had been good to me so far. I had a waitressing job at Merlotte’s, on top of the one I’d just gotten with Bill – taking care of the things he needed done during the daylight – and some good friends in Sookie and Bill; and even my other boss; Sam. I’d even go so far as calling Sookies brother, Jason, a friend – even if he did try getting me into bed with him, whenever he could. I think the fact that I was so fervent in my dismissal of him, made him have some weird kind of respect for me. I was happy – settled, even. The last thing I needed was some blonde hottie trying to get in my pants; it didn’t matter if his name was Jason Stackhouse – or Eric Northman for that matter.

---

I slept in the next day, as my meeting with Bill had been quite late – or should I say, early, as I’d not been home until 3 am. My shift at the bar was a slow one, which was good for Terry, who was having one of his bad days in the kitchen. All 6 hours dragged along in a manner so boring, it was a relief when 7 pm. came along, and Arlene came to take over from me.

Arriving back at the Compton house, I was met in the door by Sookie. “Hey, Liv! Come on in!”, she grinned. “Bill’s in the living room”. “Is it your night off, Sook’?”, I asked. “Uh huh”, she said. “Bill’s taking me to dinner”. We walked into the living room, where Bill was waiting, with a somber look on his face. “Liv… I would like to apologize for Erics behavior last night”, he said. “He didn’t do anything wrong”, I said. “It’s not the first time someone’s flirted with me”. “Eric Northman flirted with you?”, Sookie chuckled. “And you didn’t end up with your legs around his waist?”. I mock scoffed. “I am a lady”, I said. “I tend to throw them around a man’s neck first”. Sookie punched my shoulder. “Slut!”, she grinned.

Bill looked very seriously at the both of us. “This is no laughing matter, ladies. Eric glamoured you!”, he said. I shook my head in confusion. “He didn’t…”, I said. “I saw him… He was using his glamour on you”, Bill repeated fervently. “I really don’t think he did. At least I didn’t feel anything happening”, I tried again. “Jeez… I worked for you for five minutes; and you’re already acting like my daddy”, I said.

The vampire looked confused, but Sookie broke the tension, by reminding him they had reservations. “You’re right, of course; sweetheart”, Bill said, and took a piece of paper from the coffee-table. “I made this list for you. On the top here is making an appointment with an electrician. I’ve been having some flickering lights in the kitchen. Of course, I don’t use it much, but I do want it working… Then there’s this case of TruBlood O-neg. The all-night supermarket won’t be getting another shipment for at least a week, and I can’t…”. “Honey? We’re late!”, Sookie sighed. “Where are you going?”, I asked. “A place in Shreveport. Ky-auntie”, Sookie smiled. “Chianti”, Bill said. “And you’re right. Let’s go”.

We all left the house, and walked to our respective cars, when I remembered something. “Hold up!”, I called out. I ripped some of the paper from the list, and quickly wrote down my phone number with an eyeliner from my purse. I ran over to Bill with it. “Here. You never got my number. Just in case anything else comes up”, I said. “Thank you”, Bill smiled. “Any big plans for you tonight?”, he asked. “I have a date with my neighbor’s cat. At least I think he belongs to my neighbor. He might be a stray… We eat tuna together on Thursdays”, I sighed. “I thought you were allergic to cats”, Sookie said from inside the BMW. “Our love is complex… and I take pills”, I said. “Go on now. Have fun”.

I waved them off, as they drove away; and got into my own car. It stalled a few times, before finally starting up, and I could drive home – just in time for my date with Mr. Whiskers. He was only mildly annoyed when I came out the back door 3 minutes late, with his bowl. “Sorry I’m late, honey”, I said. “I had a vampire to tend to”. The cat wailed at me, and attacked the tuna like it hadn’t eaten in weeks.

I lit a cigarette, and sat down on the steps, leaning against the screen door, reading a magazine. Some of my neighbors were having a party, and I enjoyed the music coming out of the window. It was a warm night, but not many mosquitos around. I was happy to be left alone from the little bloodsuckers, when my phone vibrated, and I found myself summoned by a large one. - Need you in Shreveport asap. Bill

I frowned at the phone. - I’m your day person. Nights are off limits.

- Fangtasia. Be there in an hour.

- Remind me to ask for a raise BOSS!, I replied; stomped out my smoke, and went back into the house to look up the address of whatever the hell Fangtasia was. Google let me know it was a vampire bar. Dinner must have been over quickly, and Bill had probably taken Sookie for a drink. I looked down at the attire I was currently wearing, and decided that if Bill insisted on being a jerk-boss, I’d be a jerk employee; and show up in cut off shorts, and ABBA t-shirt – that was fifty sizes to big, and hung off my shoulder – hopefully embarrassing him in front of his friends.

I cursed at Bill all the way to Shreveport. “Stupid vampire, ruining my date with Mr. Whiskers”, I muttered to myself, as I parked my rusty car next to a flashy convertible on the parking lot of the bar. There was a line down to the door, going all the way around the corner of the building. A blonde woman with a bored expression on her face stood at the entrance, turning away anyone she didn’t see fit for entry. I sent Bill a text, letting him know I was outside, and had no intention of waiting in line. He’d have to meet me in the lot.

I leaned against my car, kicking at a stray paper cup on the ground, when a cold finger poked my shoulder. I looked up into the face of the blonde woman. She was striking up close. “Liv Sunday?”, she said, sounding as bored as she looked. “Yeah?”, I said. She gave me an insincere smile. “Follow me…”.

She led me to the entrance of the bar, and a burly doorman lifted the red rope for us so we could walk inside. A song with heavy bass was leading some scantily clad dancers on podiums, and the air was heavy with cheap perfume and sexual frustration. The blonde led me to a table, and waved over a black clad waitress. “Order whatever you want on the house. Ginger will sort you out”, she said. The waitress smiled brightly at me. I shook my head. “No, I’m here to meet Bill”, I said confusedly. The woman rolled her eyes, and walked away. I would have given her the finger, if I wasn’t worried, she’d bite it off. “What can I get you?”, the waitress, Ginger, asked. “The most expensive thing you have that isn’t blood”, I sighed. “Long Island Ice Tea, coming right up!”, she grinned, and walked away; tugging at her tiny top as she did.

I took my phone out of my pocket, and saw I had a new text from a number I didn’t know. - Hello Liv. This is Bill Compton. I would like to extend my gratitude to you for accepting the position as my assistant. I’m writing this as Sookie is powdering her nose; as to not interrupt our evening together. Could I please ask you to add to the list, that I need to get in touch with a florist who knows where to get some sunflowers? Sookie likes them. Thank you very much.

I was deeply confused at this point, and not a little worried. If Bill hadn’t been the one to summon me to Fangtasia, then I was currently in a strange bar, surrounded by vampires, without a companion; just sitting around like a delicious crab leg on a buffet table. Sure, there were humans around, but they all seemed more focused on getting the attention of vampires, than helping me out, if needed be. I texted Sookie. - What’s Bills number? I think someone texted me, pretending to be him.

She responded quickly. - Who? Are you ok? Where are you?

I wrote back. - No idea. I’m in some place called Fangtasia.

I was still holding my phone, when Ginger returned with my drink, and set it down. She seemed about to say something to me; when suddenly she bowed reverently. “Master…”, she said, sounding like she was having a strange sort of orgasm.

I looked up, and saw that Eric Northman was standing by the table, with the blonde female vampire next to him. He gave me a slight smile, and sat down across from me; relaxing against the backrest of the chair. “Jag är inte din budbärare, bare för at du vil knulla en liten människa!”. The blonde seemed annoyed, but I didn’t understand her words. “Slapna av, Pam. Det här är annorlunda”, Eric said. “Fika på hende, då. I don’t give a shit. Just don’t ask me again”, she snarled. ”Pamela!”, Eric said firmly. “Leave us”.

“What’s up her ass?”, I muttered. “Pam doesn’t take it up the ass; she gives it”, Eric said matter-of-factly. I narrowed my eyes at him. “You texted me…”, I said. “I did”, Eric said. “Go away, Ginger”. The waitress backed away, her eyes still on the floor. “Master. Yes, master”. I raised my brows. “Wow…”. I met Erics eyes hesitantly. “Why am I here?”. “Because I wanted to see you…”, he said. He dipped a finger into my drink, and licked it. “Don’t drink this. Someone put drugs in it”.

I swallowed hard – a sudden flashback striking me, taking me to a place I didn’t want to go. “Liv?”, Eric said. “What?”, I snapped. The vampire seemed taken aback. “You’re very brave”, he said. “I don’t know what you mean”, I muttered. “Speaking to me like that… and the text you sent me back, when you thought I was Bill. You obviously don’t know a lot about vampires”. I shrugged, trying my best to seem at ease with the conversation.

“How did you get my number?”, I asked; pushing the drink away gingerly. “I’m not listed”. “I flew over Bills house, as you wrote it down”, Eric said. “I have very good eyesight. You used a .01 Ultra Black eyeliner”. “That’s kind of creepy”, I said. “You’re a flying, creepy guy”. Eric laughed heartily, the sound coming from deep within his chest. “You’re funny”, he said. “It’s like you have no sense of self-preservation”. “Well, I figure you didn’t go through all the trouble of flying over Bills house to get my number; just so you could kill me”, I said. “At least… I hope you didn’t”. Eric looked towards the bar, at the tender behind it. “Chow, get her a fresh one. Make sure it’s drug free”, he said, so quietly, I almost didn’t hear it. I realized the bartender must be a vampire as well; that was the only way he’d be able to hear him. “You don’t have to… I’m fine, really”. “It’s no trouble", Eric assured me. “This is my bar after all. It’s in my interest to keep the patrons happy". “I’m not a patron…”, I said.

Eric ignored my words. “Your t-shirt… I like it”, he said. “I’m related to the blonde, you know…”. “You’re Swedish?”, I asked. A fresh drink appeared in front of me, and I looked at it hesitantly. “It’s safe”, Eric said. “Yes, I’m originally from Sweden…”. “So, you were speaking… Swedish, before?”. Eric nodded. “You name, Liv; it’s actually the Swedish word for life”. “Huh…”, I muttered. “I always thought it was kind of geriatric”. Erics eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “Quite the opposite… It suits you. You seem full of life”. I cleared my throat uncomfortably, and took a sip from the straw. The drink was delicious. “And… when are you from? If you don’t mind me asking”. “Are you asking how old I am?”, Eric smiled. I blushed, and took a second sip. “I am a little over 1000 years old”.

I choked on my drink, and suddenly, Eric was next to me; gently patting my back with one hand, and holding mine with the other. “Are you alright?”, he said worriedly. “Yeah, I’m fine”, I croaked. I looked up into his eyes, and saw true concern. “Really”, I smiled. Eric sat back down on the chair opposite me; still holding on to my hand. His own was cool, but not cold. I guessed he’d recently fed.

I bit my lip. “Are you really 1000 years old?”, I asked in a whisper. “Yes”, Eric confirmed. “I was a Viking”. My eyes widened. “Like with the… pillaging, plundering and… raping?”, I said. Eric smiled smugly. “I didn’t need to rape to bed a woman; or a man for that matter”. “Huh…”, I said; and took a deep sip from my drink. “Well, you do have that tall, blonde and handsome thing going for you”. He ran his thumb over my knuckles. “You find me handsome?”, he said. “Every person in this room finds you handsome”, I retorted; rolling my eyes. I looked towards a nearby table, where a young woman with obviously dyed black hair was starring at us. When her eyes darted towards me, she looked like she wanted to scratch my eyes out.

“Tell me about you…”, Eric said. “Why?”, I asked. “Because it’s only fair”, the viking-vampire said. “In the last ten minutes, I’ve told you my age, occupation, sexual orientation; and I’ve saved you from getting drugged". I was painfully aware that Eric probably had a million different ways of getting what he wanted from me, but for some strange reason, I didn’t think he’d use any of them. Not yet anyway. None the less, I still didn’t see his reason for wanting to know. “I meant, why are you asking?”, I said.

Eric played absentmindedly with my fingers – or maybe not so absentmindedly; as he seemed to know exactly where and how to stroke my fingers in a way, that sent signals straight to my core. "You’re interesting“, he said. “And Bill interrupted me before I could finish my glamour on you, to get you to tell me". I chuckled softly. “You didn’t glamour me", I said. “Of course I did", Eric retorted. “Sorry, but I think you have little too much faith in your own abilities“.

He let go of my hand, and sat back straight in his chair. For a long time, he didn’t speak, just starred at me, before his pupils suddenly dilated, and a tranquil and yet almost flirtatious expression spread over his face. “Liv…”, he said softly. “Tell me; what’s your favorite sexual position?”. My jaw dropped. “That’s absolutely none of your business!”, I growled. Eric looked completely confused, and even paler than his usual pasty shade. He furrowed his brows, and moved his head forwards; almost crouching in his chair, as to reach my eye-level. “You want to tell me, Liv", he said, his voice alluring. Abso-fucking-lutely I wanted to tell him; but not under our current circumstances. As it was, Eric was being completely inappropriate, and I had no intention of continuing our conversation. I stood up. “Thanks for the drink. Now, if you don’t mind, please go to hell".

I walked towards the door, and made it halfway through the crowd, when suddenly, Eric was standing in front of me. He looked almost enraged, and towered over me menacingly; starring into my eyes so hard, I could almost feel it physically. “Liv. You want to tell me about yourself", he boomed. “I want to go home!”, I hissed, trying to pass the imposing vampire. He moved slightly, making me have to brush against his chest with my shoulder. Eric’s hand was suddenly on my upper arm. I froze in place, as he lifted my hair slightly, breathing in my scent. “What are you?”, he asked in a low voice, his cool breath sending annoyingly pleasurable shivers down my spine. I looked up into his eyes again; and jumped a bit, when his fangs popped out. The deepest, darkest part of me wanted to put my finger to one of them, and see how sharp they were.

“Eric!”, Bills voice boomed over the music. Sookie came out from behind him, walked straight up to the 6’4 inches vampire, and hit him over the shoulder with her purse. “Looks like that’s two dates you’ve ruined tonight”, I said. Eric smiled. “But ours was going so well”, he said; his fangs retracting again. “This wasn’t a date…”, I said. “This was you tricking me into meeting you”, I hissed. “You had another date tonight?”, he asked, darkness ghosting his face. I gave him a sarcastic smile, and pulled my arm out of his grasp, stomping out of the club, past Pam. She looked amused at the situation, and stepped back to let me get to the parking lot.

With shaking hands, I opened my car door. Bill and Sookie weren’t far behind me. “I am very sorry, Liv”, Bill said. “Had I known there was a chance Eric would…”. “Forget it, Bill”, I said. “I’ll take care of the things on your list tomorrow. Right now, I just want to go home… I’m sorry I ruined your date”. “It’s not your fault”, Sookie said earnestly. “Do you want us to follow you home in Bills car?”. “No, I’ll be fine… Just, go salvage whatever you can of your night”, I said. I gave Sookie a half hug, and nodded at Bill.

Eric was staring at my car, as I drove away. I saw him exchanging a few words with Pam, before he went back inside Fangtasia.

---

I had the next day off from Merlotte’s, and after I – once again – slept in, I had plenty of time to take care of my errands for Bill. When I got back home from having dropped of a case of O-neg on his porch, I texted him the info of an electrician and a florist who could help him out with his other requirements.

My mail had arrived while I was gone, and as I got ready for a night of serving beer, I looked through the bills and catalogues; finding among them an envelope without sender. Inside was a picture of a young woman in a seductive pose, wearing very little. I recognized myself immediately. It had been taken my last night at my old job at Sugar and Spice – a night I didn’t remember much from, due to a drink I should never have accepted. I almost fell into a kitchen chair, and shuddered. I put my hand to my chest, remembering the wound I’d earned that night.

He’d found me. I wasn’t surprised. Though my number and address weren’t listed, if Thomas wanted something, he’d get it; he had a way of talking himself in to things. Either that, or he’d use brute force. The thing that made me confused, was the fact that Thomas wasn’t even supposed to remember me. I was supposed to be just another dancer he’d taken pictures of, at the club.

I was startled when my phone suddenly rang. I picked it up, when I saw it was Sam. “Hey…”, I croaked. “Hey, Luce’… I’m really sorry to ask you this, but Coby has the mumps, and Arlene needs to…”. “You need me tonight?”, I asked, almost hopefully. I didn’t want to be alone. “You’d be doing me a big favor…”, Sam said. “I’ll be there”. “Thanks, cher’. I’ll give you tomorrow off instead”, he replied in a relieved voice. “No problem what so ever”, I said. “I’ll be there in a few”. I hung up, and hurried getting ready for work.

Merlotte’s was full of people; which was pretty typical for a Friday night. The tips would be pretty good, and I wouldn’t have to be alone with my thoughts. Sookie handed me a clean apron, and I tied it around my waist, avoiding her gaze. “You seem out of sorts”, she muttered, as I tied up my hair in a bun. “Seem? Or are you listening in…?”, I said. She looked suddenly sad. “I’m sorry, Sookie… It’s been a hard day”. She smiled a little. “I can’t read you as well as I can some other people, you know”, she said. “Whatever comes through, is usually just colors and emotions. But they’re pretty intense, so I try to avoid them”. “Why?”, I asked. “I don’t know”, she shrugged. “It’s just like that with some folks… Makes it easier to be your friend, though”. I squeezed her hand, and walked out to take some orders.

Hoyt and Jason were nursing beers in a corner, and I walked over to check on them. “Everything good here?”. “Much better, now you’re here”, Jason winked. “You know, I saw your car out back. It ain’t looking good. I’d be happy to give you a ride, when you clock out”. “I’m sure you would, but I’m not in the mood for crabs tonight”. Hoyt laughed heartily, and Jason smiled and shook his head. “Any food for you gentlemen?”, I asked. “LaFayette has some gumbo cooking tonight”. “Sounds good. Hoyt?”, Jason said. “Two bowls, then”, Hoyt smiled. “Coming right up”, I said, and took their order to the serving hatch; winking at LaFayette in the kitchen.

For the next few hours, I pushed away all thoughts of possessive men, and focused on earning my wages. Bill stopped by to give Sookie a kiss, and thanked me for my help so far; leaving me another list. “Just some time next week, will be fine”, he said. “You’re welcome to text me, Bill”, I said. “I dislike using the keys to type”, the vampire grumbled. “I prefer the old-fashioned way of writing”. “Did you use a quill?”, I asked, giving him a sly smile. “Just a no. 2 pencil”, he retorted. “And once again; I’m sorry…”. I groaned. “Please, stop… Nothing happened. I’m perfectly fine”.

Sookie gave me a slight look, which Bill caught immediately. “You’re not. What is wrong?”. “Sookie!”, I sighed. “Sorry! You’re pretty much radiating fear, honey”, she said. Bill looked at me earnestly. “I will do my best to keep you safe from Eric”, he said. “I don’t want you to worry about him”. “I’m not scared of Eric… No more than the next person, anyway”, I assured him; and walked towards the bar, to grab a tray of beers. Sookie followed me there. “What, then?”, she asked. I clenched my jaw. “Could you give this to Jane Bodehouse? I’m gonna go take my break”, I said.

I almost ran out the back door, and lit a cigarette. Sam was putting a bag of trash in the container, when I got there. “Everything alright?”, he asked. “Why is everyone asking me that?”, I almost snarled. Sam seemed taken aback. “Sorry… I’m just… It’s been a day”. “We all have those”, Sam said. “You want to talk about it?”. “Not really”, I said.

Sam scratched his head. “How’s it going, working for Bill Compton?”, he asked. “Fine, so far. It’s an easy gig”, I said. “Don’t worry, it won’t get in the way of my work here”. “I know. I just worry about you, is all”, he said. “You’ve had a strange look on your face all night”. I sighed deeply, not wanting to give away too much. “I got word from an old… acquaintance”, I said. “I’d hoped to avoid it”. “Ex?”, Sam muttered. “Not really…”. I swallowed hard. “Sam… If I… If some day I don’t come in to work… It’s not because I’m playing hookie”. “That sounds ominous…”, Sam said. “Just… I like this job. Bon Temps”, I said. “I’m happy here. So, if suddenly, I’m not around… I didn’t just skip town, ok?”. Sam walked up to me, and put a hand on my shoulder. “Liv, talk to me. What’s going on?”. Sookie stuck her head out. “Sam, we need to call Jane’s son again. She’s passed out on the pool table…”. Sam rolled his eyes, and went back inside, leaving me to smoke in peace.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I had a text; from Eric, of all people. - When can I see you again?

I rolled my eyes. - How do I know you’re not watching me now?

The reply came within seconds. - You don’t. But I’m not. Do you want me to? I decided against replying, and went back inside – chiding myself for indeed wanting that.

When I got back home, I collapsed on my bed fully clothed – but not before having checked to see if all windows and doors were safely closed and locked. Even without A/C, I’d rather sweat than risk someone coming into the house while I slept.

My phone vibrated, and when I saw who was calling, I picked it up. “What?”, I said. “Why haven’t you replied to my messages?”, Eric said. Loud music was thundering in the background. I looked at the screen of my phone, and saw that I had multiple unread texts. “Because I was working. And because I didn’t want to”, I said. That last part was a lie. “What are you wearing?”, he asked. “A leather garter belt, and a top hat”, I sneered. “Really?”. I could hear his smile. “No. Goodnight, Eric”. “Read your messages”, he managed to say, before I hung up.

I more or less had to pry my eyes open to read the messages the vampire had sent me. - I’m not used to have my messages ignored. Well, get used to it, I thought. - I could come by your job. Just say the word. - I want to see you soon. When? At least he was asking, and not telling me. That was a step up from what I was used to. - Please. That one must have hurt. I sent him a message back. - I’ll let you know. And if you insist on texting more than a teenage girl, I’ll reply like one. Ttyl lol rofl xoxo

As soon as I’d dropped my phone on the bed, I smacked my forehead. I’d written xo. That thought kept me awake for hours, and I didn’t fall asleep until the sun was almost up again.

---

As soon as I woke a little after noon, I rushed out to handle Bills errands. He’d given me until the week after, but as I saw the picture sent to me laying on my kitchen table, I didn’t want to spend a moment longer in the house. I even called Sam to ask if he was absolutely sure he didn’t need me at the bar; but he all but told me that if he saw me anywhere near Merlotte’s, he’d throw me over his shoulder, and carry me home, so I could enjoy my day off.

A little after sunset, there was a knock on my door, and I was slightly startled to see Eric on my small porch. I swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”, I asked. “I was in the neighborhood; and thought I’d save you the trouble of texting me, when you’d be able to see me”, he said. “Besides, I don’t want you driving that rust bucket all the way to Shreveport again. It’s a death-trap”. He looked towards my car, in the driveway. “You can see me now”, I said. “Wonderful”, he said, and once again dug his eyes into mine. “Invite me in”. “No…”, I said. He once again looked confused. “Why can’t I glamor you?”, he asked. “I don’t know… Maybe you’re impotent”. Eric barred his fangs; making me jump slightly. He looked dangerous. “Not nearly”, he said. “You shouldn’t test me”.

Not wanting him to think he’d scared me too much, I took a hesitant step out of the door, putting less than a foot between us. Eric smelled like nothing I’d ever encountered before. It was crisp, and yet warm; like expensive aftershave and salt water, with an undertone of something I couldn’t define – something musky.

“I don’t understand why you keep wanting to talk to me”, I said. “I get it, I’m human. Blood and sex, and all that… But you have a club full of willing participants to whatever it is you wanna do”. Eric nodded. “I know. It’s infuriating that I feel the need to be here”, he said. “But I think I found a fix for it”. “Oh?”, I croaked, doing my best to ignore the fact that a man, that looked more or less like a GQ model, was currently reaching out his hand to stroke my cheek. As his fingertips touched my skin, my breath hitched. “Yes. See, when I have sex with a human, I usually bore with them pretty quickly”, Eric said. “I thought we should just get it over with, so I can move on”. I took a step back, and my back hit the screen door. “I don’t want to have sex with you!”, I lied. “Of course you do. I’m a very good lover”, Eric smiled. “Now, invite me in, and I’ll undress you”. “Shove it up your ass!”, I said. Eric raised a brow at me. “Well, it’s been a while, but I’m up for it if you are”.

I scrambled to open the screen door, and get back inside the house. My body was screaming at me to give in to the sensation in my lower belly, but I told myself that I had to persist. “You should… go now”, I said. Eric stepped closer to me, and I felt his firm chest against my back. “Why?”, he asked, sounding genuinely confused again. “You’re… imposing”, I croaked, and turned to meet his eyes. They were piercing mine, sending tingles down my spine. “Stop trying to glamour me” “I’m not. It doesn’t seem to work on you”, he said; a hint of regret in his voice. “Though I wonder… would you let me test a theory?”. “What theory?”. Eric smiled. “Just humor me. Pam?”.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, when the blonde female vampire suddenly stood next to Eric; and hurried over the threshold, so neither of them could reach me. “What the hell?”, I said. “Yeah, Eric. What the hell? I’ve been waiting behind that tree forever. In my new Jimmy Choo’s”, Pam said. “Be nice, Pam”, Eric said. Pam drew her lips back in an insincere smile. “Hello, Liv. I am very glad to see you”, she said. “Happy?”. She looked out the corner of her eyes at Eric.

Eric gave her a look, and something unspoken passed between them. Pam seemed to shrink in front of me. “Liv, I would like you to let Pam try to glamour you”, he said. “What? No!”, I exclaimed. “I want to know if it’s…”. “Just you?”, I said. For the first time, Eric wouldn’t meet my eyes. I took a deep breath. “Fine. But I’m not coming outside”. Eric nodded. “Pam, try to glamour her. But don’t ask her to come outside where we can reach her”. He was trying to make me feel safe – it was almost endearing.

Pam took a step forward, and looked deep into my eyes. Her voice was soothing. “Liv… You want to invite Eric inside. You want to have sex with him”. I shook my head. “No… Not happening”, I said. She narrowed her eyes in confusion. “You… want to invite me inside… Have sex with me”. “No thank you”, I snarled. Pam stepped back, and began laughing. “What the actual fuck?”, she guffawed. “What are you?”. Eric stepped in between us, his back to me. “Thank you, Pamela. You can leave now”, he said. “Eric! She’s…”, Pam began. “Now!”, Eric growled. She disappeared as fast as she’d come.

Eric stood there for a moment, not turning to face me. I was about to close the door, when he spoke again. “I’m making you mine… And getting you a better car”. “The hell, you are", I sputtered. He spun around with wide eyes. “You’re saying… no?”, he asked bemusedly. “I’m not anyone’s; let alone yours”. Eric chuckled at me. “I just claimed you”. “Well you can shove that claim up your ass, as well”, I proclaimed. “You wanted me to tell you about myself”, I said. He didn’t respond, simply stood still and never diverted his eyes from mine. “I left San Diego to get away from a guy who couldn’t take no for an answer… I’m not about to throw myself into the arms of another one who does the same”, I said. “This… guy”, Eric said. “Did he hurt you?”. There was an angry edge to his voice. I looked down, and crossed my arms in front of me. “He did… It’s over. But only because I ran away”, I said. “He… It doesn’t matter. I just don’t want that again”.

For a long moment, he just looked at me; making me swallow to wet my dry mouth. “Alright”, he finally said calmly. “Are we finished?”, I asked, almost in a whisper. “We’re finished”, he said. “For now”. Eric lowered his head, looking earnestly at me. “As long as you say no to me, I won’t do anything”, he said. “I will not force myself on you, Liv”. “Why?”, I asked, genuinely surprised. “Do you want me to? I don’t mind playing games…”, Eric smiled. I shook my head. “Never mind. I thought we were having a moment here, but it’s gone”. I went to close the door in his face. “Liv!”, Eric said; his voice imposing. I halted, and looked at him again. “I don’t know why… But I will not”.

He turned around, and walked down the steps from my small porch. I took a deep breath, before running after him. He heard me coming, and turned around. “Thank you… For at least kind of taking no for an answer”, I said. I tugged at his jacket, to get him to lower his head, and I got on my toes; placing a kiss on his cheek. Once again, I was surprised to find his skin not icy, but simply cool; and I let my lips linger for a moment.

I was about to turn back, when Eric put both his hands on my shoulders, and looked me square in the face. I could tell he wasn’t trying to glamour me. “Be mine”, he said. My breath hitched, and everything in me screamed say yes!. “N-no, Eric… No, I can’t do that”. Eric looked as if I’d slapped him. My phone vibrated, and I took it from my pocket, looking at the screen. “It’s Bill… I have to take this".

Erics face dropped, and he let go of me. “Goodnight, sunshine”, he said, and walked away into the darkness. “Eric!”, I called after him. “I regret picking up your keys for you”, Eric replied, his back still to me. “I would have loved to see you bend over”.

---

#eric northman #eric northman fic #eric northman x oc #true blood #bill compton

96 notes · View notes

carolsideblog · 4 years ago

Text

Undiagnosed Autism in Adults | Being Shamed for Special Interests

What is a Special Interest?

I’m 27 and I have autism.

Therefore, I have special interests. Generally speaking, in the context of the autistic spectrum disorder, a special interest is... just genuinely hard for me to describe or explain? Here are some links with definitions of special interests.

Autism Fandom Wikia

Ambitious About Autism

Amythest Schaber - Ask an Autistic, What are Special Interests?

Purple Ella - Autism & Special Interests

... long post ahead / cw for cussing and swearinig ...

The Comfort of my Special Interests

My special interests are things that I’m deeply passionate about and something that I latch onto, almost as a coping mechanism. I have a variety of special interests that shift in and out of focus through out the months in a year, but I could prattle on and ON AND ON for HOURS about any of them.

When I’m immersed in my current favorite special interest, I am over the moon. I feel productive, the world makes sense, I feel like my life makes sense, and I can calm down faster from a stressful, overwhelming day.

Adulthood and the Expectations of Neurotypicals

But in adulthood, it’s generally not seen as a mature thing for an old woman in her twenties to STILL be fucking talking about “dumb shit.” Shit that’s “bad,” shit that’s “problematic,” or shit that’s not for “my age group.”

I don’t fucking know what women in their late twenties are supposed to do. I’m not a sensible enough of an adult to know.

I also know very well that my shit is problematic, bad, and/or not for my age group. I probably researched 5 hours straight on my special interest for nearly a month when I discovered it. I know books, games and movies that I’ve taken a shine to forwards and backwards, I know deep-cut fandom jokes in different things I like, I know who created what and when.

But this isn’t impressive to anyone. To the rest of neurotypical society, one needs to have a bunch of light hearted little hobbies that you can switch too whenever you want because that’s “healthy.” It’s “not healthy” whatsoever (apparently) to STILL be talking about something that I love, because I’m an adult and I should have hobbies and I should have a job filing away things and writing data in spreadsheets like a good little working woman.

Or whatever, I don’t know.

Guilt, Shame and Stigma

I just... don’t understand why people shame people for the things that bring them joy, even if the things that bring them joy are objectively poor quality or badly made. The things I love make me happy, and they make me happy for lots of different reasons.

Some reasons include...

It was close to my childhood and I have a strong attachment to it

It was the lifeline I clung onto when I was going through a rough part of my life and the memories I have of it bring me comfort

I felt proud investing time in researching information, collecting memorabilia, and becoming an “expert” in that special interest

To me, my special interests were so important to my ability to cope, it got to the point where some parts of them became almost like an addition to my identity; my special interests are part of who I am and how I navigate the world. It might come from not really having a strong sense of self in the first place, I don’t know.

So when people scold me for still talking about my special interests, or make passive aggressive, off-hand comments about my special interests, or when they’re even out-right criticizing my special interests, (”It’s a bad book, it’s a bad game, the movie sucks,”)

Even if I know they’re right, it feels like an attack on me. It feels like they’re scolding me for liking the things I like. It feels like they’re criticizing me for liking something bad. It feels like they’re being passive aggressive and unfair because they don’t like me.

Rationally and logically I know this isn’t true. But it still feels like an emotional punch in the gut. It still feels like people are policing what I should and shouldn’t like. And it pisses me off and makes me ruminate.

An Open Letter to Neurotypicals

Hello, ally.

Life is hard. You and I both know that. But thankfully, there are loads of things in this world that can bring us joy. We have lots of things to keep us entertained, to socialize over, and to be passionate about.

But I get it: someone in your life keeps talking about that one thing all the time. Maybe you’re tired, maybe you’ve heard so much about this thing before, you’ve had enough or got bored. I dunno? But you’re tank is empty and you need a break, and that’s fair.

If for whatever reason your friend won’t shut up about something they really seem to love and it makes them happy... Be nice about it I guess?

If I could say anything to any neurotypical that I’ve spoken too in my lifetime right now, it’s this: be frank, honest, and straightforward. Don’t beat around the bush and don’t “drop hints.” Don’t always rely on people figuring it out for themselves. Just because things might come naturally to you doesn’t mean those same things come naturally to others. And this is okay, I only ask that you communicate clearly and honestly when you can.

If a topic is getting tiresome to you and you need a break, just tell them. Most of the time, it will be fine. When you’re up for it and wondering about a hobby or interest that someone told you about, bring it up with them again. It might brighten their day.

You don’t have to participate in the special interest of a friend if you don’t want too. Just be there for your friends, lend an ear if you can, and be supportive.

An Open Letter to the Neurodiverse

Hello, friend.

Don’t let people get you down about your special interests. If there’s something in this world that makes you passionate, that keeps you up at night because you’re so excited, that makes you rush to wake up because you want to do your Favorite Thing in the Entire World™, then please keep embracing that thing.

It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t fit the standards of neurotypicals. You don’t have to please people. If people are giving you a hard time because something makes you happy??? They’re probably not the right people to be around anyway. Someone in your life just kinda humoring you and you wish you had more? Same! But it’s okay. People who love you are listening as best they can, but please, I promise you if you keep looking, you will find your like-minded people and you will be able to find people to talk about your passions with.

If it makes you happy, if it brings you joy, if it brings you comfort, please don’t let that go if people keep nagging you for it. You have no reason to feel guilty or ashamed for something that helps you cope, that keeps you grounded, that makes you happy.

Also know that as much love and joy and comfort that your special interest gives you... remember you are still a whole entire person. You can wear your special interest as apart of you if you feel that brings you the most honest and genuine comfort and joy, but just remember that you don’t need to be limited to just this one thing. You have full permission to also be anything else you want to be in addition to this special interest. This is not to scold or shame you, but this is to remind you that you are a valid, whole person, and you are allowed to transform however you want too.

Closing Ramblings and Musings

I’ve been really bothered by this.

Like I’ve been thinking about this a lot, on again and off again, since November.

Through out my life, people have made lots of comments about my hobbies and the things I like. Most of them negative.

From the music I like to listen too, the bands and groups I follow, to the books I loved to read, to the movies I like to watch, to the games I love to play. I have my own genuine criticism and critiques that I have for a variety of things that fall under my special interests. I’m passionate and thorough with my feedback because I love all of my special interests so much, and I know they could be better.

I have a lot of complex feelings and a lot of things to reconcile with my special interests. It’s so hard to grow up and start to learn and realize how... bad they are all. How problematic some are, how poor quality or laughably simple they all are. I can give you all of my different reasons for why I like them and I could tell you all day about how I know they’re all bad... but I know some of the things I love are just laughing stocks and punching bags in pop culture to the neurotypical society.

But I can’t just let them go. That’s what I couldn’t stop thinking about in November and December. I really just couldn’t let these things go. For personal reasons, for nostalgia reasons, for coping reasons. I love these things. And I carry a lot of guilt and frustration with myself because I can’t let these things go. I can’t just switch to new fandoms, new books, new movies, new groups. At least, maybe not yet. I don’t know.

I just don’t know. I want to reclaim the parts I love but I know that It’s not a real solution. There’s such a major divide between the special interests I love and what I actually believe in and stand for. They directly conflict with each other and it’s frustrating and complicated.

I really don’t know how to close this post, to be honest. This post won’t solve the problem I have. It won’t explain to the people who scolded me for my special interest, it won’t make them understand or forgive me about why I keep talking about a stupid book with a bad premise, it won’t make them understand why I have “bad taste” or why a 27 year old woman won’t shut up about something largely assumed “meant for kids.”

This was just to vent and maybe lend hope to people feel the same way or have the same struggles.

#autism #special interests #autism special interest #neurodiversity #neurodivergence #rant #guilt #frustration #stigma #adults with autism #autistic adults #autistic blogger #female autism #autistic woman

64 notes · View notes

cargopantsman · 3 years ago

Text

Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here

Trigger warnings: All of them, because I am lazy. Also none of this is sensical.

Utter, hyper-caffeinated brain noise.

The problem with the concept of a "sense of self" is it already tries to concretize an amorphous abstract. It makes us want to point at some thing and say "Well... that's me." Whether it is a set of ideals that we try to live by, a set of activities that brings us a sense of joy or fulfillment, or, gods forbid, and entirely different and other person that "completes us."

I've always had an affinity for trickster figures and shapeshifters. The wearers of masks, the truthful liars, the artisans of duality, yada, yada. Since I was a child my first instinct has always been to blend in. If into the background, great, but if need be, if I needed to blend into the social fabric around me, I could do that too. To throw this into the high school backdrop; I wasn't a social butterfly, I was shy as could be, but I got along with the jocks, the goths, the nerds, the art freaks, the band kids, the preps, the whatever. Where ever I was I could fake that I belonged there. I was comfortable drifting in between worlds. (Looking back, I could have caused a lot more chaos with the information I was privy to at the time...[Oh, there's a constant point. I'm good at keeping secrets, keeping confidence. I'll lie my ass off to keep a secret.]) Does any of that really help drive a sense of self though? When your natural instinct is to mirror, to blend, to fade? When your point of pride is walking into a room unnoticed and, even better, leaving a party unseen? Does being a ghost count as an identity?

"Expression of Will" comes to mind... what does that mean? Ok, so some abstract thing is inside of you and you manifest it objectly outwardly. I was an artist. I made images in my head and "kind of" manifest them on paper. Some times people see that paper... I was a writer... images in my head "became" words and some people saw that. I combined them into comics. Some people Saw that. Is that a lasting affect? Maybe the fights I've been into?! That time in 2nd grade someone was picking on a friend and I laid them out... the time in 8th grade someone was picking on me and clocked them down. Or in high school when someone decided to start some rumors and I held them up by their throat in the air until they turned blue? That was an inward thing that manifested outwardly. Nevermind good or bad, but was any of that... me?

Hmm. The beast. The primal... come back to that later.

"Expression of Will," "Expression of Will," "Expression of Will" ... What the fuck even is "Will"? Is this why philosophers get their heads so far up their ass? Is it a desire? The will to live.... living requires eating and the amount of times I forget to even do that... Maybe been looking at the phrase all wrong...

Will to Live (noun) It isn't a thing.

Will (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)

Why does that sound better?

Desire to Live (noun)

Desire (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)

Okay, that feels better even, but still... Sense of self, will, desire, expressions thereof. Are these just the aimless desires and wills? The fleeting flights of frivolous fancies festering forlornly in frontal cortices?

The self with the will can direct the desires towards living. "Get in the fucking robot Shinji!" "I don't wanna"

The (ghost) with the (strength) can direct the (impulses) towards (being). Getting too close to a concept of a soul on that one huh?

Forget self. It's a useless moniker right now. There is no self. It's just this mind alone for the first time in its entire life. (Not alone alone, there are friends, but they've learned more about me in the past two weeks than the past 6 years so...) "What did they learn?" asked the projection of self that defines itself by interactions with other.

I thought we were forgetting self.... not an option really. Sentience is a bitch like that. But they've learned I'll put up with a lot of bullshit under the guise of strength and integrity when I should've callously called this whole thing ages ago. That I can shut myself down completely in the interest of bodily-self preservation. (Not Self-self preservation, fuck the English language). What did I sacrifice? What did I shut down?

Everything.

That is less than helpful.

The Beast. Vince. Your Shadow.

My Shadow...

What do you desire?

Blood in the cut, tears in their eyes, power over someone that wants that power over them...

Do you want that? I don't want it, I just need it. No... I want it.

Is that all you are? A sadist? An animal?

Maybe... probably not though. A caretaker, and a sparring partner. A trickster and a shapeshifter. A crafter whose tools are destruction.

Next problem, grandeur. Mythologizing everything. But how to see a thing if you don't blow it up/magnify it?

You lack a sense of self because no one ever tested your sense of self. No one actually fought you for who you are. To find out who you are. The ex didn't. An old friend did until she got scared by what she found there.

You don't want to be yourself because it's not nice is it? You were raised to be nice.

College. I controlled the group. Never hit anyone after high school aside from set matches in classes or sparring for funsies. They all saw my eyes and stopped if they were getting out of hand.

The Dom-Friend.

Don't use the d-word on me.

Destroyer? Yeah, that one's fine. That one fits. He says as he carelessly tosses lit matches around his entire life. Can we bring up the phoenix or is that too grandiose? Why shouldn't it be grandiose? We spend every day of our lives going through the same kind of tedious bullshit all the time why not make our inner lives a bit bigger, a bit richer?

A bit darker.

Why do you want them to bleed? Hurt and comfort. That's a big theme, a trope if you will. Why not have both at the same? Why not let her think that I'm about to kill her but let her rest in the trust that I won't? Why not let me think that I'm about to break her while believing she is the most precious thing in the world?

Caretaker. A caretaker kills all the time. Tearing out weeds, uprooting the prized plant to move it to a better place for its growth.

Growth.

The self isn't going to be found just in ones self... not in another either. No, the self has to be found in everything. The things one wants to run to and run from. The soul (oops) is formed by what it crashes into right? The mind recoils from traumas races towards panaceas, why not, if one can, flip the polarity on the two. Bring the darkness screaming into the light so you can see it, bring the light quivering into the darkness so it can loose its terrifying brillance. Balance in all things right?

You're not a very positive person, they say. No... I'm not. It lashes out in bad ways sometimes, sure. Control, control, you must learn control. But being negative isn't bad. Not if you can grow from it. No plant can survive the sun for 24 hours. Trees sleep in the winter. We sleep, we heal, we grow.

Self-Destruction!! That's a fun one... seven fucking months downing a bottle of whisky a night. Whooo boy. Do Not Recommend.

Got a nice stay in the underworld though and trudged up a lot of shit. Now I'm sitting here with my ears ringing because I finally hit the personal limit on Monsters and my brain is overclocked enough I can finally see shit at 4 angles at the same time. I am a god damned quantum supercomputer of emotions right now.

Faith and faithlessness are the same thing. Have faith, trust the future, don't expect anything, don't plan your now for your future. Sounds sadly like live in the moment type bullshit, but life is weird and people are complex. Shifting drifting clueless animals that want to be safe but don't want to get stuck in anothers arms even when there is one whose arms are so safe.

The damage runs deep... and two people with damage running that deep. Hmm. How much healing can falling do? The other just puts a bandage over a puncture wound and both try to ignore it, but then the blood gets pumping, the heart pounds and poisons surge to the surface. It's neither one's fault really. Life is a trial of knives and we don't always have time or concern to tend the wounds properly. There's always something else that needs to be taken care of first.

Divorce is a helluva drug. It is maddening, the freedom to finally to be yourself is line having the lineart stripped off, there is a terrifying infinity in front of you and the only thing to do for awhile is melt. Let the slings and arrows just pierce and sink in. Anyone else tries to push the sludge of you into a shape might get hurt when they find the arrows. I want to go absolutely feral in a way. In a way the whole COVID mess is keeping me under lock and key so I'm just prowling around the empty house like I always have been, but now there's some sense... of purpose.

I'm raging against any depression, the executive dysfunction is going to have a talking to. The sense of self is going to be found in stripping this house down to bare walls and making a blank canvas. Bring everything down, ruin it all, start again.

My self is emptiness, it always has been. I can be anything, but I should be wary of ever wanting to be something. (My career options are AWESOME). But this is a different emptiness than before. Before I pulled the trigger and splattered the brains of the marriage across the floor I was just a void, and inky black pit of nothingness. Somehow, having the Shadow rise up and finally start getting along with the rest of me, the emptiness isn't.... void. It's just nascent possibility and that shouldn't scare me.

It does, of course, terrify me. First time in 40 years being legitimately alone is terrifying, should have done this kinda thing when I was 20, but... I was an idiot back then (60 year old me laughs from the future). But I think I can get a grip on the concept that "I" don't exist, but I'm real... ever changing ever dynamic, not who I was while I was married, but a mix of the me before, a angry beast now, and something yet unseen in the future.

#personal bs #vince rising #dan falling #don't try this at home kids

8 notes · View notes

justgillespie · 4 years ago

Text

Missing (2/?)

Summary: Your next door neighbor, Luke Patterson (a.k.a. your longtime crush) has gone missing, and you think you could help finding him.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none!

Author’s Note: Hey, it’s me again! So I’m back. I noticed that I didn’t mention before that the reader is a dancer! So I hope that didn’t bother anyone. And I’m sorry there’s not much in this part, but I’ll try to upload the third part as soon as possible xo

Part 3

•

You came up with a few rules, if you were willing to do this. Rule #1: You would not think of Luke as the boy you have a crush on until you know for sure that he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Rule #2: You were taking Max with you wherever you needed to and whatever you needed to do. Rule #3: You would do as much as you could to find Luke. Rule #4: Find Luke.

The information Tamra gave you was enough for you to wait impatiently for school to be over the next day. The bookclub’s meetings were on Thursdays at 6:00 p.m.

Today was Thursday.

You talked to Hannah at lunch, asking her about the bookclub. She told you about the book they were reading and the social environment, but she didn’t mention the band. You didn’t make any specific questions either, since you didn’t really want to tell her what you were actually doing. Hannah also offered you to take you the library. But you politely declined. You were just taking the bus with Max. For which he complained, later on when school was over and you both were heading to the library on the bus.

“She OFFERED to take us there, in a CAR, and you said no?!”

You rolled your eyes.

You were all dressed in your dance uniform, wearing a comfortable sundress on top of it and some shoes that you randomly picked. And you had your dance bag, seated at your feet. Your dance class was at 6:30, but you weren’t worried about the time. You calculated that if the band had to set up their equipment, then they would definitely be there earlier then the rest of the bookclub members.

“First of all, she offered ME a ride. Not us. She didn’t know I had company.” You said, checking up the watch on your wrist. 5:25 p.m. You looked back at him. “And second of all, if you weren’t too afraid of driving, then maybe, we could’ve given that car of yours some use.”

Max told you that the car parked in his garage was his, and was given to him on his seventeenth birthday, months before you moved to the neighborhood. Since Max was afraid of driving, his mom was the one using the nice car.

“Uh, yeah? Why don’t you try driving then?” He said, cheeks flushed.

“I did. Several times.”

You just weren’t perfect at it yet. Not that you were desperate to drive. Your sister would always drive you wherever you needed to, so what was the rush? You didn’t need a car yet. You just couldn’t ask her to take you to the library today because she had to recover a piano lesson she missed a few days ago.

“Then why-?”

“Oh my gosh, Max, let it go. Tamra’s picking us up once we’re finished. Geez.” You said, frustrated. This guy could complain and argue for hours if he wanted to.

“Sorry.” He said rolling his eyes. “So what are we doing?”

You snapped your head at him. “Didn’t I tell you anything yet?”

“I know it has to do something with Luke, because of what you asked me last night. And that we’re going to the library... Now that I say it out loud, we’re going to that bookclub they play at, right?”

You definitely forgot to explain. Your so focused on getting started with your plan that the only words that came out of your mouth that afternoon when you called him were: “Come with me to the library.” He didn’t asked much in that moment either, so it was on both of you.

“That’s right. How could you just jump in with me without even knowing what I was dragging you to?”

“Because I was waiting for your call. You said you were gonna tell me what you were up to, so I just linked everything to that. You still didn’t explain yourself, by the way.”

So you explained to him. That you were on sort of an adventure/investigation about Luke’s location and that he was your Watson.

“I am Watson?! I gave you most of the information you know now.”

“It was just an expression, Max.”

Soon after, you were both standing in front of the big public library. Once again, you checked the time.

5:37.

“Come on. They’re probably there already...”

“Wait a second.” Max grabbed your arm, stopping you in the middle of the steps. “Luke ran away from home, right?”

“Yes, that’s what Mrs. Patterson said...”

“Well, don’t you think that a performance in a bookclub full of people would be too... I don’t know, noisy? I mean, if he ran away, it means he doesn’t want to be discovered. I don’t think hey will perform today if that’s the case.”

You stared at him for a second before you hit him in the arm.

“Hey! What was th-?!”

“You couldn’t have said that before coming all the way here for nothing?!”

“I just thought of that! And you could’ve thought about it too! Don’t blame it all on me!”

You frowned and walked down the stairs.

“Where are you going?!” Max asked.

“Home. Dance. I don’t know.”

“Don’t be dramatic. We’re already here. We can still do some research. They probably have their information here. I don’t think they would even let them perform if not. And besides, we don’t even know if I’m right about before.”

You turned back to him, this time, embarrassed. You were being a little dramatic.

And maybe a little too optimistic.

No, you stopped yourself before any negative thought clouded your mind, no one’s ever too optimistic.

And you couldn’t back up from the investigation in the first day. That was basically breaking rule #5.

You walked back to Max and without saying anything, you walked into the library together.

As much as you wanted Max to be wrong, he actually was right: the guys didn’t show up. And maybe it was also because of what Max said, but it was not the reason the people at the library told you. You asked about them and most of the workers frowned immediately at what you said, either confused or mad.

“Those guys aren’t allowed to play here. They just showed up a couple of times, but trust me, they won’t come back.” The librarian told you.

Therefore, Max’s backup idea didn’t work either.

Ten minutes later, you and Max sat on the steps outside the library, not knowing what to do next.

Your watch ticked 5:50. Tamra said she would be there at six.

You said hi to Hannah when she got there. She asked if you were going in.

“Not really.” You sighed, and decided to tell her the truth. “I came to do some research on that band... It’s named Sunset Curve. Tamra told me they played here the day she came with you.”

“Oh, yeah! I almost forgot that happened.” She chuckled. “I didn’t come to the meeting prior to that, so I wasn’t aware that a band would be playing in our bookclub. That’s why I forgot to tell you about them, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. Did you get to talk to them?”

“A little bit. They stayed for the whole meeting and then ate almost all the snacks on the table. We just talked about music for a bit. Well, Tamra did. I was just standing next to her having no idea of what were they talking about... But if I see them today I can try to get more information, if you want.” Hannah offered when she noticed the disappointment in your face.

“They’re not coming today. Or ever, again. I already asked. But thanks, Hannah, I really appreciate it.”

She smiled at you sweetly and squeezed your shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll get something soon. See you guys around.”

You checked your watch for the hundredth time now. 6:04.

“When you said that Luke’s band plays at a bookclub.” You said to Max some minutes after Hannah left. “I thought you meant they play here OFTEN. You didn’t mention they played here TWICE before and weren’t even allowed to do so!”

“I didn’t know that either! I just supposed...”

“You supposed?!”

“Well, yes! I heard the other day at school... some of the Math Club members attend this bookclub and they said that Luke’s band performed there so I just guessed they might just play here often!”

“I can’t believe you sometimes.” You felt mad. But tried to calm down. You would get nothing by reproaching him.

You decided to stay quite. Otherwise, you might yell at him.

“So what are we doing now?” Max spoke after a while.

“I don’t know.” You said honestly.

Another silence.

And then, you had the most simple idea, which, you thought, you should’ve come up with way earlier.

“Can’t you ask a friend if they know more about Luke’s bandmates?”

Max blushed, and you thought that was suspicious. “Don’t think so. My friends are... busy.”

You frowned. “All the time?”

You said, more than asked.

“Y-yeah...”

“Every single one of them?”

“Yes, Y/N.” He rolled his eyes, but his nervousness was still visible.

“Max.”

He looked at you sideways and then sighed. “Fine, I... don’t have many friends at school. I don’t make much of an effort to make more, either.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I’m just not the social type.”

“But you have friends?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I have friends. Well... one friend. His name is Ian. We’ve been classmates since first grade. And we moved together to the same high school.”

“What about the guys from the neighborhood?”

“Well yeah, them too, I guess. We’re just not too close.”

“Like Luke.”

Max scoffed. “Yeah, with the only difference that Luke could be close with everyone if he wanted to. I am not close with anyone because, again, I’m not exactly sociable.”

“But you could be.” You insisted.

“I guess. It’s not that easy, you know...?” He then gave you a look and shook his head. “You don’t know. You are sociable. Like Luke.”

You weren’t sure of what to say, so you just stayed quiet.

“Speaking of which, why are you so invested on finding him, anyway?”

It was your turn to blush, but you were saved by Tamra, who stopped the car in front of you.

“Let’s go.” You said, and he followed you.

So today’s mission didn’t go exactly as planned, but you had lots of clues. It was impossible not to find anything. This day had to end on a good note.

Tamra left you at your dance studio before going back home with Max. You told him you would call him later.

During your dance class, you managed to distract yourself for a bit. But you came back to trying to come up with something as soon as you got out of class.

“I’ll use your landline! Call me when dinner’s ready!” You said once Tamra parked in the driveway.

You said hi to your parents and ran to your room to pick your notebook and then go to your sisters’ room.

So you did come up with something.

You decided to call every kid from the block that knew Luke, and try to get more information. Your last alternative was to go to the Patterson’s house and talk to Emily herself, although you were kind of nervous at that idea and you weren’t too hopeful about it since Max mentioned she didn’t know much about Luke’s band.

“All she knows is he has a band and that she doesn’t like the idea.” He’d said that afternoon.

You took the phone and dialed the first number: Amy Campbell.

You decided to go straight to the point with everyone, just to not lose any time and call Max as fast as possible to update him.

“Hello?” You heard Amy on the other line.

“Hey Ames! It’s Y/N-.”

“Y/N! You’re coming to my pool party, right?”

You blinked. A pool party?

Something clicked in your head. Amy’s pool party, of course. It was this weekend. You forgot to ask permission to your parents.

“Of course I’m going.” You said, even though you weren’t actually sure. Amy cheered.

“Awesome! Almost everyone already confirmed they’re coming, except for... Luke.” She said, and you rapidly took the opportunity to ask her about what you originally called for.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you about him, um, don’t you happen to know anything about his band?”

“Oh my gosh, are you helping to find him? That sounds so much fun!”

You faked a chuckle. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Well, I don’t know much, but... I saw them perform in front of this club once, when I was going out for dinner with my family. We stopped to watch them along with some other people. Before they were kicked out. Oh, I also know his parents don’t love the idea of him on a band.”

“Do you remember the name of the club?”

“Oh, not really... but I can tell you it was close to that restaurant... Delish Japan? Yeah, I think that’s how it’s called.”

You wrote that down.

You thanked her and hung up. So your first call went well.

Although the rest of the calls were pretty similar. Most of the kids said they saw the band playing either in front or in the back of different clubs. One of them mentioned they saw them play at another bookclub.

“Any news?” Max said once he answered your call.

“Kind of.” You checked the names of the clubs written in your notebook. “Almost every kid said they saw the band playing in some club or bookclub. It seems that they do that, without asking.”

“You mean playing in places people might see them?”

“Yes. They know it’s not easy to book a gig at any place. Especially since they don’t have a manager and they’re just teenagers...” You sighed. “This information is pretty much useless, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t want to say it but... yes.” You groaned while Max kept talking. “I mean I guess we could go check those clubs but one, we’re minors and two, they just set their stuff, play and then they get kicked out. I don’t think any of those places have their personal information.”

“My other idea was to go and talk to Mrs. Patterson but... I don’t know if it’ll be useful. I don’t know what else could I do anyway.”

“Me neither.”

You already thought of something else, actually.

You sighed again, this time more dramatically.

“If someone around here at least went to the same school Luke does... That way we could ask some people about him and his band...”

“Come on.” You could practically hear Max rolling his eyes. “I don’t wanna do that.”

“Max, this could go faster if only you took the courage to talk to people. I’m not asking you to go out with them. Just ask them about Sunset Curve...”

“Y/N. I told you before. It’s not that easy for me-.”

“Y/N! I’ve been calling you for half an hour now! Come down for dinner!”

You heard your mom yelling from downstairs and you froze. You said you were going the first time you heard her but you didn’t realize it’s been half an hour since then.

“I’m coming!” You yelled back, and then said goodbye to Max.

You frowned while jogging down the stairs. You told Tamra to tell you when dinner was ready. Now your mom would be mad at you.

After your mom reproaching that she called you “a million times”, you defending yourself that you asked your sister to call you and her saying she never actually agreed to doing so, your dad stopped you. Silence flooded the room for a few minutes.

“Tamra told us you went to the library to do some research on Luke.” Your dad talked. “Did you find anything?”

“Not really.” You said, finally letting the disappointment get into you. “Any of our plans worked.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll get something soon.” Your dad squeezed your hand and you smiled at him.

“Let us know if you need any help.” Your mom added.

You slowly nodded.

When you finished your food, you decided to stay and just listen to your parents’ conversation.

“Are you done?” Tamra asked then, and you frowned.

“Why?”

“Just- Yes or no?”

“Yes, I’m done.”

“Good. Come with me.”

You and Tamra thanked for the food and she guided you to her room. You sat on her bed while she started looking through the mess.

“What are you doing?” You asked, and she didn’t respond.

“Here” You heard her say before stretching down to take a purse from the floor.

She then went through it and took a piece of paper out of it, which she gave to you and you looked at it closely. A phone number was written on it.

“It’s one of the band members’ phone number. Not sure who, but he was flirting with me the day I went to the bookclub with Hannah.”

Your face beamed.

“You’re not gonna need it?”

“Pff, no. I have a boyfriend, remember? And he was not my type anyway”.

Actually, you forgot she had a boyfriend. They started dating just a few months ago but Tamra hasn’t taken him to the house yet.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?!” You said.

“I forgot I had it.” She shrugged.

You were too excited to get mad at her. You hugged her and asked to use her landline again. She agreed and left you there.

As fast as you could, you took the phone and dialed the number.

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms x reader

65 notes · View notes

popwasabi · 4 years ago

Text

“End of Evangelion” and the tempting nature of oblivion

(TW: Suicide, Self-harm, Pain, Depression, Mental Health, Death)

“End of Evangelion” is a perplexing movie to say the least.

Not that the original classic anime “Neon Genesis Evangelion” series ends on exactly the most conclusive note itself, but “End” takes everything that transpired in the series and literally destroys it.

The films ends with Earth experiencing the long foreshadowed Third Impact and all of the planet returning to the primordial “soup,” as fans call it, with its main protagonist Shinji Ikari and comrade Asuka Langley Soryu as the only remaining humans left. A pseudo, twisted rebeginning of Adam and Eve’s Genesis.

The film is fairly divisive among the fans to say the least. Some fans consider it a masterpiece for its nihilistic tone and mind-bending illustrations of body horror and others despised it for being too dark and confusing with no clear explanation of anything that happened in the film’s events. Hell, even the movie’s fans have a difficult time explaining what exactly happens in the narrative.

I was somewhat in the middle with it after I watched it the first time not super long ago. It was certainly abstract, and I like plenty of stories that don’t make it easy for me to understand. The animation is definitely the franchise’s best and I enjoyed the character moments between Shinji, Asuka, and Misato. But it was also, as stated before, dreadfully confusing and still to this day hard to makes heads or tails out of with its plot.

But, as with more than a few movies I have revisited this year, 2020 helped me contextualize one aspect I think the story is concretely trying to get across.

(We’ll save discussion of “Rebuild” for another day...)

At my lowest points not long ago, I had this frequent vision that would crawl across my mind.

I imagined being up in the clouds on a beautiful sunny day, but I wasn’t floating or flying. I was plummeting, falling like a bird without wings at a speed that would definitely kill me once I got to the ground. But I never imagined actually hitting the Earth like a meat-bagged, human sized asteroid. I only ever imagined the falling part. The wind reaching a terminal velocity and the air rushing past my body and you know what look I had on my face?

Happiness.

I was confused a bit by why I kept imagining this moribund fall into oblivion over and over again. I wasn’t suicidal, though I certainly have had thoughts of self-harm plenty of times before and general detachment from life. But why the fuck was I so happy? I’m about to die after all!

What I have come to realize in recent years, as I’ve developed a better understanding of my mental health and what makes me tick, it wasn’t that I wanted to die so much as I wanted the freedom that comes moments before it. The feeling of finally letting go and letting fate/gravity do the rest.

Years of my life failing at various aspects of societal expectations and career obligations from not being able to get the girls I wanted to date so badly, relationships ending poorly, not quite applying myself the way I should’ve in college, and working a plethora of unfulfilling jobs since graduation made me yearn for that release. Just that feeling of saying “fuck it all” and giving in to the void.

I wanted to stop feeling out of control. The way the world is structured often feels like you are on a wild, rapid river flowing in one very stark direction but you desperately want to go the other way. You keep fighting and fighting it and realize after a while you are just swimming in place, you tire out and either float where the river wants you to go or you drown. I wanted neither of those things, I just wanted control and unfortunately part of life is accepting that a very large percentage of it is beyond your power to alter.

2020 made this feeling starkly apparent once again as we were hit with a once in a lifetime global pandemic that has killed 2.21 million people and counting. As common people struggle to find ways to handle the loss of loved ones and the fallout from economic instability those tasked with protecting us have more or less ignored the cries of needy. Hell, they’re fucking miffed that we would even have the audacity to ask for $2000 of our own fucking tax dollars to put a band-aid on the situation. Combine this with an extremely volatile two-party system and late stage capitalism, we are about as out of control as ever in terms of how much we actually can course correct our destinies in a period like this.

It is why so many irony-pilled millennials and gen z-ers are posting dank memes about meteors colliding with the earth over the course of the year. We’ve lived through two recessions, two forever wars, and now a pandemic in our lifetimes while paying off our crippling debt with slave wages and yet boomers still wonder why we are near universally depressed as a generation.

(Seriously, everybody needs a fucking therapist right now...and also to dismantle the fucking system that’s making us depressed!)

This is what I feel is the real heart of “End of Evangelion.” The movie is a lot of things, obviously, but, after the events of this year and looking back on the more depressing parts of my life, I feel this film is about the tempting nature of oblivion. Giving up when things are clearly beyond your control so you can get that sweet but twisted, fleeting sense of freedom from it all.

Director Hideaki Anno didn’t feel too entirely different about the state of life when he made this series and certainly by the time he made “End” he was in a very dark place.

So, quick history lesson, “Neon Genesis Evangelion” debuted in 1994 and quickly became a classic among fans of anime and the giant mech vs monster genre. Critics loved it for its exploration of mental health and depression and of course plenty enjoyed the hell out of it for its giant monster/robot escapism as well. Fast forward to the conclusion of the series, critics and fans especially are far more polarized. I won’t try to explain exactly what happens in the ending and frankly I don’t think anyone can, but that confusion led to quite a bit of outcry by the fans.

Hideaki Anno, the series’ director, received tons of hate mail and death threats following the series conclusion. The fans hated how abstract it was, how it had an undecisive ending and chose to dive into the mind of Shinji instead of conclusively describing the events of the Third Impact with plenty going as far as to say he had “ruined” his own series for them. This made him unfortunately quite depressed himself over the ending he felt creatively fairly content with.

(I think it should be clear who Shinji is mostly likely a stand-in for in this anime...)

The fan reaction was toxic to say the least and all too familiar for many creatives who didn’t adequately satisfy the insatiable vapid needs of their fandom. Anno did not take this well to put it lightly. A man who was known as a delinquent in high school and expelled from the Osaka University of Arts much earlier in his life, and dealt plenty with his own bouts of depression, Anno had plenty of his own demons to sort out and quite clearly wanted to explore that mental state in “Neon Genesis Evangelion.”

I’ll be honest and say that I myself was not fond of the ending either when I watched it the first time as a freshman in college, and even went as far as to describe it as everything that was wrong with anime to friends in the years that followed for a while. I felt it was confusing and “fake deep,” existential for no reason other than because it just wanted to and people were “dumb” if they liked it.

When I rewatched it again as a much older adult when it came on Netflix last year, I found it much more fascinating and interesting. A sort of abstract introspective into the mind of a troubled teenager, who I had written off many years prior as a “whiny baby.” Though I wouldn’t say I completely understand it still, I get it much more now and I think it has a lot to say about depression and mental health.

Unfortunately, most fans did not have that reaction back then and as a result Anno made his true conclusion “End of Evangelion” as a response to that negativity.

(You’re welcome, nerds.)

As mentioned before, “End of Evangelion” is an extremely nihilistic film that seems to one up each dark moment as you traverse its spiraling narrative. It’s a film where things never get better. If you go into it blind expecting that big last minute heroic save the day moment, it’s always teased and never comes. Things just end very badly for everyone. Nobody gets a “happy ending.”

While the ending to the original series is strange for sure, it does end on a light note that can be interpreted in a number of different ways but ultimately positive. With the way fans reacted to it Anno decided to write a big “fuck you” to them by, in many ways, smashing his toys so no one could play with them again. He even went as far as to splice in the actual hate mail he received into the movie to quite clearly show to the audience, as their favorite characters met their grissly ends, that this was their fault.

(“Gee, I wonder what that was all about.” ~ a fan walking out of the theater back in 1997.)

In a way though, Anno created something strangely beautiful from that reaction. “End of Evangelion” is about giving up in some ways and accepting our inevitable doom. There are no easy answers, no workable solutions to achieve a happy ending because sometimes in life there isn’t one. Despite last ditch efforts by Misato, Shinji, and the crew of NERV the world still ends through the Third Impact. But tonally it’s not quite pessimistic; it’s actually positive, in a very twisted sense of course.

Set to the song “Komm Susser Tod” by ARIANNE, the film’s apocalypse can almost be described as a celebration. With people “popping” and turning into the primordial soup they all largely have smiles on their faces as they kind of get what they want whether it’s a desire to reunite with loved ones, to be with people they have crushes on, or happiness that they have sought for so long in the embrace of others. Everyone’s depressed! But now they are happy because it’s finally all over, they don’t have to give a shit anymore.

As the planet lights up like a Christmas tree, there are images of suicide and death that rapidly cross the screen in the form of the Angel’s final transformation but again, nobody is truly sad about it. They all have some kind of twisted smile or joy that they get from it. It’s a shocking film, if you’re not already prepared for what’s going to happen, and provocative to say the least.

youtube

(Can’t decide if I recommend watching this high or not...)

I had no idea what any of it meant at the time when I watched it several years ago (I watched it well after I had seen the original series), and to be fair there are many ways fans have interpreted what exactly took place in the film and have debated endlessly on its meaning for decades now. But at least in my interpretation, after everything we’ve been through this year, “End of Evangelion” to me is about the sweet release of not giving a fuck anymore.

Whether it’s about Anno feeling that way about his own life or the expectations of his fans or both, the film quite clearly doesn’t care about what people may or may not have wanted for Shinji and the NGE characters and is perfectly fine with the way it all comes “tumbling down.”

(He just wants to be with his boyfriend, guys.)

This past July 4th, city fireworks shows were prohibited in my area because they wanted to limit mass gatherings due to COVID but this didn’t stop people from buying plenty of their own to fire off. In what amounted to a collective “fuck you” to everything and 2020, beginning pretty much exactly at dusk people started firing off their at home lightshows like they were mortar gunners in World War I and did not let up until well past midnight. The entire Southern California night sky was lit up not to unlike the thousands of crosses that filled the screen during the Third Impact of “End of Evangelion” and though it could certainly be interpreted as a moment of people patriotically going “Yea, America!” that night, my head canon was much different. It felt like tens of thousands of people across the region just saying “Fuck it” into the night sky at everything; COVID, our horrendous government, police violence, pending World Wars, environmental disaster, and our collective impending doom from it all.

As these fireworks hit their zenith around 9pm I broke out my phone and started playing “Komm Susser Tod” from the movie and it felt perfect. Everyone just wanted to feel that freedom in the moment, that freedom of not giving a damn anymore. To be removed from expectations, from control, from hatred, from pain and it was kind of beautiful in a sick way.

And that’s what “End of Evangelion” feels like to me now; kind of beautiful in a sick way.

(Not saying the LA skyline looked like this exactly but it felt like it haha...)

There are still many ways to interpret Hideaki Anno’s cult classic, and it’s part of its charm but I think the take away fans should have is definitely not that suicide is ok but that we get it. We understand why people have those feelings and why it feels freeing to desire the void and oblivion. It’s a pity that the series most toxic fans didn’t get that clue through the original finale but Anno, not a person who likes being shoved around, clearly created perhaps the most twistedly beautiful “fuck you” to that in anime history.

As we enter 2021 all I can say is it’s ok to feel like this, it’s ok to desire freedom from the relentless gloom and doom of the world and people’s prying expectations of what they think you “should” be. No one blames you. At the end of the day, we’re all just trying to survive the apocalypse we have zero control over, so the least we can do is be a bit nicer and considerate of one another.

At least it’ll make the Third Impact more pleasant whenever it eventually comes...

Happy New Year, everyone!

Congratulations on surviving 2020! Have fun in 2021...

#neon genesis evangelion #end of evangelion #evangelion #hideaki anno #anime #japan #90s #vintage anime #2020 #apocalypse #covid #mental health #depression #sadness #horror #shinji #covid19 #quarantine

43 notes · View notes

legends-live-in-memories · 4 years ago

Text

I Have Too Many Opinions. ep. 1

lmao. i got encouragement to post my opinions on fandom things and now i want to make a miniseries doing just that. so here i am. doing just that.

im putting it under the cut cuz this was 4 whole pages including the disclaimer. yes i put a disclaimer and i explain why.

Anyways, here is the first piece in what inevitably will become fandom info dump, this time on thomas astruc’s writing on miraculous ladybug. but only some of my opinions cuz we would be here all day otherwise.

So… a disclaimer before I begin…

I do not hate Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir (yes i'm using their government name). I am quite a fan of the show actually despite its faults. I am also older than the intended audience but was obviously younger when the show first aired which is how my interest was piqued (the fact that its been 6 years and only 3 seasons says more about the show than me being a fan for that amount of time but also i never want to rush content creators cuz they're doing their best) and due to my age, there will be inherent bias in my approach of what i'm about to say as there is in EVERY opinion. The fact that it is an opinion should imply the presence of bias but most people tend to lack the critical thinking skills required to draw that conclusion ANYWAYS…

If I did hate the show I would not have this blog nor would I be even writing this because i tend to not give more than 2 seconds of thought to things i actively dislike (some of yall should give this a try) and i'm allowed to like things that are designed for an audience that i was originally a part of but grew out of. (I don't suddenly stop liking things because I'm older despite what many younger fans seem to believe about older audiences. I also don't need to be ‘allowed’ to do anything cuz i wasn't asking for permission anyways.)

This will not be character bashing, astruc bashing nor fandom bashing cuz, again, that would imply i hate any of those elements and if i did, i would not dedicate brainpower to them. Analyses and criticisms of media are fun and engaging and required if you wish to produce good enjoyable content. Now most of this should be already assumed and self-explanatory but people on the internet like to play morality roulette roll dice on purity culture and I rather have documentation that I am in fact not bullying fictional 14 year olds or a grown man. But alas, people get trigger happy whenever someone has less than 1000000% positive opinions on something they like and will throw out words they can't define (gaslight, baiting, toxic, problematic, gatekeep etc) in an attempt to defend their blind devotion,

which is not needed, if you like something you never have to defend it, even if i don't like it. If you respond to anything I post saying you disagree with me, I will not argue with you. I won't debate back and forth and try to convince you that the things you like are wrong. Unless you are being absolutely tone deaf to what i'm saying, you wont get a negative reaction from me. So don't try to fish for a fight. Please. I got metaphorical hands for days and I'm mean, you don't want me hurting your feelings on the internet. Do yourself the favour. Difference of opinion is how we get diversification in media and is inherently a good thing. Now that that's out of the way, please don't ever let me have to say that again. I beg.

Now onto the fun stuff

I didn't know what I wanted as a first topic so my trusty internet friend @moonlitceleste suggested astruc’s writing…

AND BOI do i got some opinions on ole tommy boi. Again I don't hate the dude. In fact, he has worked on a few shows that had defined my childhood, including but not limited to W.I.T.C.H. (all eps available on youtube for those interested, 2 seasons, general fun time all around).

So I don't think he’s scum of the earth but I do think his approach to writing mlb specifically has more misses than hits.

The first big miss is that he has no idea how to write 14 year old girls. At all. Almost every girl he has ever written feels like some terrible archetype built entirely for marketability and childish projection and pubescent self-insert (kind of). He has never been a 14 year old girl. I have. In fact when the show first aired, I WAS around the (assumed) age of the mlb characters. The behaviour he passes off as quirky or awkward or just the character’s genuine personality tend to perpetuate harmful stereotypes of teen girls found in the media and are never actually addressed as harmful. they just get swept under the rug. Marinette’s exuberant collage of teen heart throb model boi Adrien Agreste and her very painful almost fan worship she has of him (which flip flops like a paper sandal in the rain) being portrayed as a cute school girl crush uwu, Chloe being the y7 Regina George, Alya being the token best friend of colour with her ‘sassy’ personality (i want y'all to imagine me eyerolling so hard i bust a vessel in my eye), Kagami being the very damaging Perfect Asian Child stereotype. And before y'all get on your dusty soap box and defend going on about “BUT IT'S FOR CHILDREN”,,,, know this.

i don’t give a solid fuck.

Not one.

Children arent stupid. Children are always going to remember the richy bitchy blonde who bullies the art kid, and the big kid, and the shy kid, and the non white kids, and was only nice to her equally rich white friend who she probably had a crush on or was only ever civil to her equally white lapdog. They're going to remember the half asian girl who was never allowed to actually be asian or the only black girl who existed solely as a soundboard for enabling bad habits or chastising the main character for the same habits she enables in the first place (boi aint THAT a topic for later). Like do i really need to explain that alya chastising marinette for taking max’s spot in gamer just to play with adrien rings absolutely hollow when she actively encourages her to sabotage the contest she’s in just so Kagami doesn't win?? Like I don't have to explain that right?? Again kids arent stupid and its quite something that Mari gets chastised for proving herself the best video game player regardless of her intentions just cuz it comes at the expense of max’s feelings/ego but is actively encouraged to sabotage not only kagami but herself by extension cuz kagami is ‘competition.’ Adrien is not a trophy to be won. And no I don't expect 14 yrs old to be perfect and to always make good decisions but these decisions are never addressed as being bad decisions. they get swept under the rug cuz those decisions were necessary for the ‘plot’ but astruc can barely keep characterization consistent and his characters suffer for it and it's the same children you preach are watching it that suffer as well. Cuz guess what? I KNOW 14 yr olds aren't like that cuz i've been there done that (this is the last time i'm saying that i promise) so I know astruc is just metaphorically throwing darts to figure out who says and does what without consideration for pre established personalities to drive the stalemate plot along. The same kids you say are watching this don't know that that's not how preteens work and will absorb and internalize those dynamics like baking soda and vinegar. Cata-fucking-strophically.

And I haven't even gotten to the boys yet. Which honestly doesn't require much explanation anyways cuz they suffer the same fate as the girls. Tired archetypes with nothing to give them life. Nino falls into Adrien’s person of colour token best friend who dates the female lead’s person of colour token best friend so they can have cute double dates uwu. Except the plot goes nowhere and we have no inclination of romantic development beyond moments that only act to actively convince me to anti ship the lovesquare (i don't want to do that so i self indulge in fanon that actually cares about the characters and plot. may i interest you in True Sight on AO3?). Max is the residential nerd but it doesn't matter (cuz he and everyone are dumbed down for the sake of ‘plot’), kim is the sports jock (which interestingly subverts the asian comedic relief stereotype but only barely) and luka is cute older guy ™ that wears black nail polish and is in a band. The point of all this is to say there is no depth in the characters. It's especially blatantly obvious with the characters astruc doesn't like (chloe). Again, it being a show for kids is not an excuse to be absolved of putting effort into the characters you make.

This is one of the biggest misses astruc has. I haven't even gone into all the nuances of this particular miss. And i havent gone into how that works against him in the plot either. Mostly because the plot itself hasn't gone anywhere and partially because I wanted to go into the plot (or lack thereof) separately as its own miss.

AND BOI is it a miss.

SO home boy astruc wanted to reap the benefits of a serial show with ‘engaging’ plot without putting in any of the work to make a linear storyline and relying on the episodic format for, again, marketability. You can't have the best of both worlds, you are not Avatar: The Last Airbender. Which btw has a lot less episodes and a desired end goal that didn't involve top dollar. Legend of Korra did but that's not the point and it had its failings with that too. I challenge you, tell me how many episodes actually contribute towards a plot point or introduce new thematic elements to the show? Can you name them? I can and I'm going to include the plot points that moved the story in some direction if only temporarily. Yes only temporarily for some of these and i will explain later. (if you're in the server you already saw this list *wink*)

25/26. Origins- self explanatory, the beginning of the story,

24. Volpina- introduction of the grimoire and Master Fu (kind of) and no, Lila is not a plot point,

28. The Collector- proper introduction of Master Fu,

37. Sapotis- introduction of Rena Rouge,

41. Syren- introduction of new aquatic power ups,

44. Anansi- introduction of Carapace,

47. Frozer- introduction of new ice power ups,

48/49. Style Queen- introduction of Queen Bee,

51/52. Heroes’ Day- introduction of Mayura and mass akumatization,

66. Startrain- introduction of Pegasus,

67. Kwami Buster- Marinette wears multiple miraculouses,

68. Feast- backstory as to how the miraculouses were lost,

69. Ikari Gozen- introduction of Ryuko,

70. Timetagger- introduction of Bunnyx,

71. Party Crasher- introduction of Roi Singe and Viperion,

73. Chat Blanc- alternate timeline that essentially means nothing but got a reaction out of fans anyways (myself included)

77/78. Love Eater/Battle of Miraculous- Marinette becomes guardian and other heroes lose their miraculous,

New York Special- other heroes exist and there is an American miraculous box,

That's 21 episodes. 21 out of a heaping 78 plus 2 specials. Everything else was just your typical akuma of the day episode and everything that happened outside that had no lasting consequences on the plot thanks to the miraculous status quo. Was it entertaining to watch Lila stir the plot of the class dynamic? Hell yeah. Too bad it meant nothing by the end of the episode cuz we were struck with miraculous status quo. She literally doesn't appear again until Heroes Day. that is from episodes 25 all the way to 51, she means nothing and yet she is treated with the severity of a b-villain/rival thing. She means nothing by the end of Volpina if I'm being honest. She is only relevant for 20 mins of episode time she’s in then it's back to magic status quo that undoes any shift in dynamics and relationships. It's like Spongebob who can't get his driver’s license. The worst part is I actually like Lila and I wish the story treated her with the seriousness we as an audience are expected to treat her with. Despite being painfully inconsequential by the end of each of the 3?? 4?? episodes she’s in, it's entertaining to watch a character create drama just because.

Too bad it means nothing.

Astruc is constantly building up suspense to something ‘important’ only for it to not deliver and fans are constantly having the rug pulled out from under us. Oblivio teased us with a reveal only that gets undone cuz memory akuma. Chat Blanc teased us with romantic development but that gets undone cuz time travel bullshit. Feast introduced more miraculous lore and the history of the guardians but that means nothing by the next episode or ever (i'm not including any reference to the season 4 trailer cuz i've been around the block a few times and im familiar with this lil dancy dance). Heroes Day teased us with a possible future team of heroes but that gets undone in Battle of Miraculous cuz ????? why?? (here's why; astruc was having a jolly ole time letting us know how irredeemable Chloe is at the expense of shooting his own stagnant plot in the foot. Again, discussion for later.)

Too bad anything that slightly swerves off course from the akuma of the day gets undone or ignored. Too bad nothing has any lasting consequence. I mean, if anything did, the episodes would have had a consistent order and release schedule so im not scrambling to watch the leaked ep in Portuguese or something while the french dub is two episodes behind while the english version hasnt even been dubbed. I really wonder how he plans to conclude the show when he’s so afraid to step out of the corner he painted himself in.

Again, not going into nuances. If you want you can ask for more specifics (i doubt anyone would) but this is really just a slightly detailed general overview of my opinions on astruc’s writing.

I was going to include another miss in his approach to this show but imma save that for another time.

How’s that for a ‘first’ post?

#mlb #opinions my guy opinions #i dont wanna tag this as salt #but mlb criticisms and analyses #IHTMO #the hashtag for this series #thomas astruc #miraculous fandom #miraculous ladybug #miraculous: tales of ladybug and cat noir #yes the government name again #come get yall juice #miraculous

23 notes · View notes

ashleemccann · 3 years ago

Text

Goodbye Julie and The Phantoms ( First, off I asked my mum this morning to cancel, our Netflix subscription I'm that distraught over this.) Rant About to happen, (please no negative commenting) I’m so upset 😰heartbroken right now to find the right words to say but I’ll try. A few things first I’m outraged at #Netflix for not renewing the JATP It really is terrible and so close to Christmas. How can Netflix make us wait a whole year just say nope sorry no renewal? I personally think they don’t care about the viewing audience, otherwise, they would have cared enough to at least make the announcement earlier. The show ended on a cliffhanger so what we don’t get answers that sucks. There are so many unanswered questions on the show we have unfinished business, 1, Are the guys still ghosts2, Did they cross over3, what’s going to happen to Nick 4, what’s Caleb’s plan inside Nick 5, Is Willie ok 6, Reggie’s family7, Alex’s Family8, Luke Family9, Julie’s family will Ray find out about the band10, Will Julie and Luke get together11, Can Alex & Willie reunite 12, Will Trevor confronts the band13, Can Carrie and Julie makeup and be friends.14, Can Carlos meet the band now So many questions it’s not fair we deserve more as an audience who devotes our time to viewing. It’s a huge disrespect to Kenny and Cast who were made to wait a year as well to find out. Please don’t be mad at the cast or Kenny this was all #Netflix’s choice we blame this is on them. Also why the heck are so many other shows renewed on #Netflix listed below Bridgerton (Season 2, 3 & 4)* Centaur world (Season 2)* Chicago Party Aunt (Part 2)* Cobra Kai (Season 5)* Dead to Me (Season 3)* Disenchantment (Part 4)* Dream Home Makeover (Season 3)* Data : Dragon’s Blood (Book 2)* Fate: A Winx Saga (Season 2)* Fabulous Lives of Bollywood Wives (Season 2)* Firefly Lane (Season 2)* Floor Is Lava (Seasons 2 & 3)* Formula 1: Drive to Survive (Season 4)* Get Organised with The Home Edit (Season 2)* Ghost in the Shell: SAC_2045 (Season 2)* Ginny & Georgia (Season 2)* Grace & Frankie (Season 7 – Remaining Episodes)* Green Eggs and Ham (Season 2)* High on the Hog: How African American Cuisine Transformed America (Season 2)* History 101 (Season 2)* Johnny Test (Season 7)* Kid Cosmic (Season 3)* Last Chance U: Basketball (Season 2)* Locke & Key (Season 3)* Love, Death & Robots (Season 3)* Malibu Rescue: The Series (Season 2)* Masters of the Universe: Revelation (Season 1 – Part 2)* My Unorthodox Life (Season 2)* Octonauts: Above & Beyond (Season 2)* Ozark (Season 4 – Parts 1 & 2)* Pacific Rim: The Black (Season 2)* Queer Eye (Season 6)* Raising Dion (Season 2)* Ratched (Season 2)* Real Rob (Season 3)* Rhythm + Flow (Season 2) What makes them different to Julie and The Phantoms, they might be more popular but I think JATP has a huge audience. If Netflix gave shows like JATP a chance they would see how amazingly fast in popularity it would grow. The next thing Netflix will do is take JATP off the platform all together so people will forget about it and can't watch it. I’m sorry to say the fans won’t forget about it this one show will recreate an uproar like anything we will #standtall. Netflix has cancelled so many good shows on the platform below, I’m surprised anyone is still watching it. JulieAndThePhantomsAnneWithAnELostAndFoundSpinning OutSabrinaGreen House Academy Ashley Gracia Country Comfort These shows and more got cancelled also online it says that #NETFLIX did not give a reason why.As a customer services platform that is just truly awful for not even letting us know why I can guess a few reasons. 1, COVID stops massive amounts of people from getting together (actors can’t get places to film) 2, views of the show 3, They just don’t care at all about it I felt like I had to say something I want to make a video but I just keep crying about it. To #netlfix, it’s just another show but to us, it’s a lifeline that we need to hang onto. Besides, it sucks they did it around Christmas time couldn’t wait. So too Kenny, Cast I’m deeply sorry that you all won’t be able to go back to do the show my heart is broken. We won’t ever leave you because true fans are with you till the end no matter what this show won't ever leave. Song "If you could only know I'd never let you goAnd the words I most regret, are the ones I never meant to leaveUnsaid JATP" #standtallforjatp

#julieandthephantoms #jatp #kennyortega #netflix

6 notes · View notes

hilli98215 · 4 years ago

Text

I am confused. I am hurt. I don’t know what to think. This is a long post. A very long post that is personal but I’ve had it in my head for a while to write. You don’t have to read this. This post has no real meaning. It’s more of a rant of how I feel in the world of fandom, my experiences, and why this posts exists.

Again, you do not have to read this.

You have been warned.

DO NOT REBLOG THIS POST!!!!

When I became an English major in college, I did so knowing several things. One of those is the fact I love literature and I love discovering why authors, creators, and artists wrote what became their most well known work.

Where am I going?

My first fandom was when I was in Junior High (about 13-14 years old) that I was a part of, meaning I read fan fiction and discovered fan art of, was either Naruto or Pokémon. To me these works were escapes of my real confusing life. Especially when I moved states and schools. I had no one. Through this, I discovered what I liked and didn’t like in the world of fiction and was introduced to fandom words/slang such as shipping, fan fiction, lemons (which I don’t think is used as often now), different types of writing, yaoi, yuri, and a few more I can’t remember. This also included the all important phrase Don’t like don’t read. This was when I was in my early teens.

But I was in a phase where I could find what I found interesting and that was that.

When I got to high school, I was still this awkward quiet kid with no friends. But I did have marching band so that was something.

At this point was was interested in Ouran Highschool Host Club, Death Note, a series called Beauty Pop, Fullmetal Alchemist, and a few others. This was also around the time where I began writing fanfiction for OHSC and even began buying manga. Anyway, this was my introduction to fandom as a teenager. And this is before Tumblr.

All I had were my friends, videos on YouTube, and my own interests. No one really understood why I loved all these things.

Then came the very first fandom I became fully obsessed in my sophomore year: a small series called Hetalia Axis Powers. I was completely invested in this fandom. So much so I wrote fan fiction, bought merch, and read a lot of fan fiction myself. I think it was because, at the time I thought it was because the art style was cute, the voice acting wasn’t half bad and it had to do with history. But this is where things got interesting for me and learning about fandom as a whole.

As a teen, I hadn’t known about AUs and this series had a lot of them. From the usual school AUs to odd ones. I usually stayed in my bubble and kept up the mantra Don’t like Don’t read.

But why talk about it?

Well, let’s just say a lot of the content later on became weird and new. I learned a lot about new terms like de-aging and ABO. But this leads to interest which once again let me know what genres of fan fiction I like.

I continued on with this fandom for about 3 years. And what broke it was the drama and how people were finding a sudden moral compass for personified countries. I mean there are other problems with that show that I recognize now as an adult and didn't see as a kid but that’s for another time. But I quietly left because I was beginning to understand that the drama wasn’t worth a tv show.

I would say the next fandom I was invested in and loved and I think had the least amount of drama was Fairy Tail. Now I fell in love with this series because of the story, characters, and the welcoming fandom. Overall there was rarely any drama because I think we all knew that we had to be civil with each other and respect our ships. While I’m not part of that fandom anymore a lot of people on Tumblr and FFN were very welcoming. The main series kinda fizzled out but that was one of the few positive fandom experiences I had.

I was at that point in my life where I was in college, created my Tumblr and posted regularly to escape life.

Coming off that fandom, I was part of the Yuri on Ice! fandom from beginning to the end. I mean it’s a sports anime that’s about men's figure skating and how it can affect athletes just to get a gist of it.

That’s when my experience with fandom became interesting because these characters were being paired in a way that made me feel like they can’t be paired with anyone else. Like, there was a pairing we were all cheering for to happen by the end.

This is the first series I was highly interested in as an adult where the ages of the characters were defined. There were a few in their teens, some in their early to mid 20s, and a couple in their 30s. Now this was a historic anime for several reasons. The main being there being a gay relationship being shown in a positive light and mental illness being shown in a way that wasn’t patronizing and negative. I loved this show for those reasons. But I also quickly learned how people would take these characters (especially those with huge age differences) and pair them up. That was my first introduction to criticism of how ‘gross’ it would be for a 15 year old to be paired up with an 18 year old. But I saw a problem that made me second guess my thinking. When I was in high school, I knew someone who was a sophomore at 15 and dated someone who was 18. Why was there a problem?

I knew if I voiced this that I would be shamed and told that I was disgusting. Eventually I had enough and left shortly after the series ended.

Then came the Voltron: Legendary Defender series. Oh boy.

Now that series came out while I was in college and I often viewed it in a critical perspective similar to one would a piece of literature because my major was in English and that was what I was taught. Like YOI I was part of this fandom day 1 because it was so different from the original Voltron series from the 80s. I loved how the fandom dissected everything in every episode. There were watch parties, analysis videos, and even skits at conventions. It was a fandom I knew I wanted to be a part of. But then there was fanfiction that I found odd and knew that I never wanted to read that. People were writing about topics that made me uncomfortable and I didn’t know how to deal with it. After a while, I questioned why I was forcing myself to read them in the first place. So, I stopped reading them. This was also around the time where I discovered AO3 and their amazing tagging system. Because if the tagging system was not there, I probably would have stopped reading fanfiction all together.

But then there was drama, shipping wars, morality wars, and I had enough. I was there until it ended and left quietly. Which is sad considering I loved the experience but it was ruined by what people thought was right for fictional characters.

Now you may be asking “What was the point of this post?”

To answer your question, I don’t know.

I have loved reading since I was a kid. And when I got to high school, I had this AP teacher who told us something that has stayed with me to this day.

‘As a reader we are detectives. We want to know why the author wrote this book. We want to know what influenced them.’

I took that saying to heart and approach everything through a critical lens. Which is difficult in a fandom. It’s hard to have a critical approach to a series that everyone takes for a grain of salt.

I have been exposed to a lot of books and pieces of literature that have been considered controversial because of their content. When I left high school, I began to realize what genres of books I like in the YA genre and in literature.

I experimented.

And when you think about it, that’s what you do with fan fiction and fandom. We are always experimenting. We are always finding what we like and don’t like.

But recently I’ve noticed a new fandom term that makes me wonder where I fall in all of this craziness we call fandom.

Pro-Fiction/Pro-Shipper

It wasn’t until last year I saw this word thrown around in a new fandom I am in. I tried to do some research but I couldn't find anything. Nothing. And then I learned it’s a new term in itself.

I won’t go into detail but it reminds of the ‘video games are violent so that makes so-and-so violent’ argument parents made when Mortal Kombat came out.

Well you still didn’t answer the question.

And you’d be right. I saw a post from a follower that saddened me and honestly freaked me out. Why announce that you hate a specific group? It felt like a call out post without saying any names. A warning that states: Block me or out yourself. Or rather: Block me or else.

Do I identify as this? To tell you the truth, I don’t know. I think critically and see things differently. In fact everyone does.

We are always going to be influenced by the media whether it be a movie, television, a book, or a video game. We will always love these storylines and characters. We will always take the messages to heart. We will always cheer for the hero and maybe the villain too.

I do want you guys to remember this, make your own fandom experience. Block those who make you feel uncomfortable and make you feel like you don’t matter. You do.

You are your own person. No one can tell you otherwise. If you feel uncomfortable, then maybe you need to leave the fandom. Or find a space in the fandom that you can be yourself. Or don’t care what people think and do what you always do.

It’s all up to you.

#rant #long post #sorry for those who decided to read this #i just cant stay silent anymore #fandom #fandom toxicity #fandom discourse #fan fiction #personal #i mean #this is getting out of hand #where do i fall in all of this

17 notes · View notes

scoopsahoy · 4 years ago

Note

i just read ur fic about getting pregnant with steve and was wondering if u could write one about the reader and steve struggling for a few years to get pregnant, and she has an emotional breakdown one night bc she doesn't feel like enough for him because it's been pushed on her that women's only jobs are to have kids and shes like "i cant even do that so how am i supposed to please you" and he comforts her and makes her feel better

ぺ word count ⋰ 2.3k

✰ tw ⋰ none :)

❍ cw ⋰ swearing, mentions of sex

✐ masterlist

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

You sat on the toilet seat with your leg bouncing, anxiously waiting for the pregnancy test results to show up. This had become a new norm for you: getting pregnancy tests and anxiously awaiting the results. And you were sick of it.

It took a toll on you. Getting a negative result every single month for four years straight was stressful mentally and physically. You’d had a migraine for at least three and a half years, and no medicine helped. You were always nauseous and sick, which your gynecologist said was normal in your situation. You were always tired and sad, which affected your job and your relationship with Steve.

You knew he was just as tired of it as you were, and you knew he was probably exhausted from having to care for you all the time.

It had also taken a toll on your sex life. At this point, you two only had sex to reproduce. You rarely finished and always denied his offers to help you. You would always flip yourself upside down afterward to help the sperm enter your uterus.

You’d both been to the doctor multiple times to see which one of you was fertile. Steve was one hundred percent fertile, while you had less of a chance of getting pregnant that you should’ve had.

You’d been to multiple IVF appointments as well. It wasn’t Steve’s favorite thing in the world to go into a room alone and masturbate to porn to provide sperm samples.

At this point, he didn’t enjoy looking at other women to get off, so you had taken pictures of yourself to give him.

The first few times it was awkward for him afterward, but you assured him there was nothing uncomfortable about it.

You’d probably spent over ten thousand dollars on it, and it was heartbreaking each time it didn’t work.

At the end of the five minutes, you grabbed the test out of the sink, feeling a pain in your heart at the single line.

You tossed it back into the sink as you stood up, feeling tears slide down your face. Your back hit the wall and you slid down until you felt yourself land on your ass.

You pulled your knees into your chest, propped your elbows on them, and put your hands into your palms.

You couldn’t help but sob. You and Steve had been trying for four years to conceive. And, despite everything mentioned, none of it worked. This was one of your last straws, a wave of sadness washing over you.

You both desperately wanted kids, preferably two or three. But at this point, you’d be lucky to even have one.

Steve made it clear that in the end, if you couldn’t have children of your own, he’d be perfectly okay with adopting, or just not having any. And you agreed.

However, you had the longing to create your own child. Everything from the pregnancy, to giving birth, to raising that child from the moment they came out, until the moment they could care for themselves. You wanted that more than anything, but you’d be happy to adopt if you were infertile.

But sitting on the bathroom floor knowing that every effort you made — propping yourself upside down after sex, aforementioned IVF treatments, tracking your cycles, staying healthy, etc. — didn’t work, made your heart hurt.

You wondered if you were good enough for Steve, if you could really give him what he wanted. If he was genuinely happy with trying to have kids for years on end and being unsuccessful. You wondered if that was what he wanted, if he was still happy with you.

Your sobs filled the bathroom, making you glad Dustin wasn’t there.

Dustin was your younger brother, and currently, he was at the arcade. He knew about your struggle to have kids, and he usually tried to help, whether it was with the foods you ate, or getting you vitamins, making sure your mom didn’t keep her alcohol where you could get to it, etc.

You thought it was sweet how much he wanted a niece or nephew, always talking about babysitting them and allowing them into the party.

You always made sure he was gone when you took pregnancy tests. You loved him, but comfort wasn’t his strong suit. Sometimes it would work just because of the effort, but sometimes it would make you feel worse. So, you figured the easiest way to avoid that was to make sure he wasn’t there.

The rest of the party was also anticipating you getting pregnant. Max, Eleven, and Nancy all said they would help her with girl things like periods, dating, and other things boys didn’t understand.

And Mike, Lucas, Dustin, Will, and Jonathan all said they would indoctrinate him/her into their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns.

It made you cry the first time you found out how excited they were to have a new member of the family.

But you hated making them wait. Dustin and Robin were the only ones who knew how long you’d been trying, so the rest of them kept jokingly bugging you about them getting a new DnD member.

When Steve got home from work, he found you crying on the bathroom floor. He looked in the sink, seeing another negative test.

He sat on the toilet seat, placing his hands on your knees. He didn’t say anything, he let you talk at your own pace.

“Negative again,” you said, your voice stuffy.

He nodded. “I know.”

“What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Hey, look at me.”

You pulled your hands from your face, revealing your eyes bloodshot and puffy, your skin soaked in tears.

He stood up and held his hands out for you to take. You pulled yourself up and he cupped your face. He wiped your cheeks with his thumbs, before grabbing a dry cloth and cleaning your face completely.

“Come here,” he said, pulling you into a deep hug. You cried into his chest, leaving tear stains on his shirt. He gently pulled you to the bedroom a few seconds later. You sat against the headboard, resting your elbows on your knees. He sat across from you, only a few feet away.

He gripped your hands as you continued crying. It was silent for a few minutes before he continued the conversation.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Then why can’t I get pregnant?”

“You know that’s not your fault.”

“Is it enough for you? Am I enough for you?”

He furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about?”

“If I can’t give you a kid. If I can’t get pregnant, despite everything we’ve done, despite every effort we’ve made... will I be enough? Won’t you want more?”

“Don’t. Don’t even think like that. Don’t say that. Of course, you’ll still be enough for me.”

You softly shook your head. “I don’t believe that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you said that all you want in life is children. You want at least one son and one daughter. And you want to name one of them Dustin, and one of them Robin. And you’ve told me that you want to have a hundred grandkids so you can spoil all of them. And if I can’t give that to you-”

“Stop. Stop talking.” He gripped your hands tighter. “I don’t care. If you can’t give me that, that’s okay. More than anything, I want you. I want you, even if we don’t have a hundred grandkids.”

You felt more tears fall down your face, hitting your legs. He tilted your chin up to look at him.

“Why?” you asked.

“‘Why’ what?”

“Why wouldn’t you want someone who could give you that?”

“Because I don’t want just anybody. I want you. I’d live a thousand lifetimes without kids if it meant I got to be with you.”

“But you want a family.”

“Baby,” he chuckled. “We’re already a family. You and me, we are a family. We don’t need a child to be a family. Hell, we can adopt a dog or a cat if we wanted to. And that would still make us as much of a family as people with kids.”

“But we both want kids. I want kids. I want to be pregnant, I want to give birth, I want to hold the baby after they come out. I want to celebrate their first steps, their first words, their first birthday. I want to do that.” He didn’t say anything. “How am I supposed to please you if I can’t even get pregnant?” you mumbled.

He furrowed his brows. “What?”

“I mean, we’ve always been taught that in marriages, in order to be a good wife and please your husband, you should have kids.”

“Who the hell taught you that?”

You raised your eyebrows. “School, my family, everyone. I’ve grown up hearing that in order to be a good wife to my husband, I have to give him kids and that’s how we’re supposed to please you.”

He shook his head. “I’ve never been taught to only expect kids from my wife. They’ve been feeding you that bullshit?” You nodded. “For how long?”

“All my life.”

“I’ve grown up learning from my mom that, even if I don’t have kids with the person I marry, I should find someone that I can’t live without. That’s you.”

“Steve-”

“Y/N, you don’t have to bear a child to please me. I am so madly, deeply, stupidly in love with you. There is nothing you can do to make me not love you. You hear me?” You didn’t reply. “Why do you think I proposed to you and married you?”

“You wanted to start a family, but not outside of marriage. Isn’t that why every guy gets married?”

“Nope. Not even close. I mean, that’s a factor, but do you know the real reason I married you?” You still didn’t answer. “I married you to be with you,” he said as he poked you lightly on the chest. “I married you so I could spend the rest of my life with you. Obviously, I do want a family, but, like I said, I’d go a million years without kids if it meant I got to be with you.”

You were only crying harder now. “Steve-”

“I am so fucking in love with you, Y/N. Do you want to know how long it took me to get that ring-” He pointed to your engagement ring on your finger, which was joined by your wedding band, “after we started dating?” You shook your head. “Three days.”

Your eyes got wide. “What?”

“Yep. Three days into our relationship, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. You know why I didn’t propose sooner?” You shook your head again. “We weren’t eighteen. That was the only thing holding me back. I had to wait two years to propose to you because we had to wait until we were adults.”

You looked down at your ring. “They let you buy an engagement ring at sixteen?” you chuckled.

“I guess so. I got it, didn’t I?”

You smiled. “I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you, too.” You squeezed his hands.

“Tell you what. Why don’t we take a break from trying? I mean, we’re only twenty-three. We have time. I know it’s stressing you out. Your head always hurts and you’re always sick. Let’s just wait a little while.”

You nodded. “That would actually be really nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe we can have sex just to have sex, not to make a baby.”

“Absolutely.”

You looked at him and he gave you a small smile.

“I don’t deserve you,” you said, your voice cracking.

“I think I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.”

You laughed softly. “And if we can’t have our own kids, we can adopt,” you said.

“Absolutely.”

“Take a kid or two out of the system.”

“Absolutely,” he repeated.

You got on your knees and hugged him, the two of you squeezing each other tightly.

“Did I mention that I love you?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? Because I do.”

“I’m sure,” you giggled. “I love you, too.”

When you pulled away, he looked at you. “Don’t blame yourself, baby. Seriously. It’s not your fault.”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

You pulled him in for one last kiss before heading to the kitchen to start dinner.

—

You, Steve, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, and Robin all sat in your dining room. For dinner, you made chicken burritos. The kids were all joking around and talking about the arcade when you decided to get their attention.

“So, me and Steve talked today,” you said, clearing your throat. They all looked at you. “I think... we’re gonna stop trying to have a kid for a little while.”

“What?” Lucas asked. “Why?”

“We’ve been trying for four years. I mean, we’ve done IVF-”

“What’s IVF?” Mike asked.

“In vitro. It’s artificial insemination.”

“We’ve done that about six times,” Steve said. “And it hasn’t worked.”

“Nothing we’ve done has worked. So, for now, we’re gonna take a break. I mean, it takes a toll on us.”

They nodded. “Okay. Whenever you get pregnant, that just means we can have someone else to play games with and invite to the arcade,” Lucas said. “Even if we’re older.”

Steve rested his hand on your thigh.

—

Laying in bed and being Steve’s little spoon as he slept caused you to start thinking again.

You didn’t realize it before, but you were more okay with waiting than you thought you would be. Sure, you’d be slightly older when you were pregnant — if you wound up pregnant at all — but you were fine with it.

Knowing that you were with someone like Steve, who didn’t care if you couldn’t have kids, was a relief. You knew you married the right person, and you knew your kids would be right about you two being soulmates.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington x reader fanfiction #steve harrington x reader imagine #steve harrington x reader fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine

129 notes · View notes