#literally sobbed at that first one about fire I’m gonna die watching this show I it’s literally digging my grave as we speak

[bestial4ngel]

… bad fucking sign that I’m already crying this hard over the first episode like “as long as you walk the earth I’ll never taste the fire” and “if you were the last vampire on earth it would be enough” … ARE THEY TRYING TO KILL ME??!

[shikai-the-storyteller]

KARMALAND REVOLUTION FINALE

Luzu: The first snow of the season comes with Karmaland first civil war. All the members at war and only one winner. Fire is calming me. Makes me feel things are simpler. Everything could've been simpler. What could have happened if we just spoke, if I just told Quackity why I did what I did, if Quackity wouldn't have done everything he did? I guess we'll never know. We only have what we have today. I can only defend me and my people today. Oh this writing is so beautiful but so tragic. What could’ve been... what was meant to be...

Luzu: I’m here Vegetta: Hold on a moment, I’m with Rubius :) Luzu: You’re WHAT

I’m watching Luzu’s POV did Rubius actually convince Vegetta to join him???

Rubius: This is shameful, smells like treason! Vegetta: You’re one to talk, you STOLE MY BRIDE

LMAO Alexby camouflaged lmfao. I adore Alexby

UHHHHH WHY IS STAXX RED. IS THIS THE STAXX FROM THE OTHER DIMENSION???

Wait is Staxx pretending to be on their side?? Does Luzu not know???

Staxx: I was told you are gonna have a good time and y'all will get me weapons. Vegetta told me they told me lies about you, Luzu. That you're oppressive, you kill them without warnings... STAXX. YOU”RE GONNA GET VEGETTA KILLED

Ahh Luzu’s telling them what happened to his daughter and showing them the heads Quackity left

I’m glad Staxx logged in for this event

Rubius just said he has a nuclear TNT, he says that if something bad happens they will blow it up and goodbye karmaland 5 RUBIUS DON”T YOU FRICKIN DSMP US, I”LL BE SO MAD

that would be a bit funny though since he just blew up the server on Saturday LMAO

OH STAXX ADMITTED HE AND ALEXBY FREED THE ANIMALS uh oh

FRICK QUACKITY LIVE

“Today, Luzu dies or I die” NOOOO

LMAO Rubius and Alexby eavesdropping

UH OH. THE LIGHTNING AND THUNDER... the gods are waiting to see how this ends

Luzu and the rest of the members: *screams of war as they fight* Quackity rn: *talking about yesterday’s Streamies*

QUACKITY FORGOT TO CHANGE HIS SKIN LMAO

What do you mean you haven’t eaten breakfast yet Quackity!!!!! (*is a hypocrite because I also haven’t eaten yet*)

Quackity really roll straight out of bed and hit stream, big mood

Quackity: I’m gonna text my mom, to ask her if we can eat some enchiladads. Awh..... that’s really sweet. I love Quackity’s mom :(

Awww Quackity’s talking about the skin maker who’s been doing all his skins :’)

Quackity didn’t want the one without a shirt ABSOLUTELY valid

WAIT NO HIS SKIN HAS BLACK CLOTHES, PLEASE DONT TELL ME THOSE ARE YOUR FUNERAL CLOTHES

Not Staxx asking for flashbang bombs because they’re what Titi loved best 😭😭 😭😭 

QUACKITY LITERALLY ALL THE OTHER BOYS ARE FIGHTING WHILE YOU”RE DOING THIS

wait I looked away for TWO SECONDS WHY IS LUZU SHOOTING AT SAPO PETA

Vegetta, talkinga bout the revolution: A cop that isn't a cop, a mayor that never was, and... Alexby. FRICKIN RUDE

Luzu: Wait, the fight can't be in town. No more innocent people can die, let's go to the esplanade. Well thank goodness for that

Luzu: Don't shoot first. If there's violence, it has to come from the revolution first. As always. QUACKITY DONT SHOOT AND MAYBE WE CAN TALK THIS OUT ok I say that but I don’t trust Rubius or Alexby’s trigger finger

Sapo Peta refused to choose a side and he logged out of Karmaland :((((((

Sapo Peta: I’ll come back when you decide to stop destroying each other sobs

Quackity: *is late* Luzu: A man late to the fight is a man with fear. LMFAO GETTEM

Not Rubius sending kisses in the chat

Luzu shaking Vegetta like “PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, REMEMBER THIS MAN JUST RUINED YOUR WEDDING” and Vegetta’s like “But Luzuuuu :((((”

LMAO Quackity just said love to Rubius but Rubius didn’t understand what he was saying LMFAO.... EMBARRASSING

OH FINALLY THEY”RE ALL TOGETHER I can finally mute one stream

I’m watching Luzu and Quackity ahhHHHH

:(((

LMAO he revealed the Christiano Ronaldo ruse from yesterday pftt

HUH WHY DID EVERYONE’S SCREENS GO DARK

oh LMFAO THEYRE DOING THE CIVIL WAR POV SHOT

I love that Quackity downloaded a mod to make it more dark and spooky

wait

HUH

ALIENS????? TITI’S DAD????

ARE THEY GONNA HAVE TO STOP THE WAR TO UNITE AGAINST ALIENS??? HELL YEAH

Ok here I was thinking they’d have to unite to fight against the gods but THIS IS JUST AS GOOD

SAPO PETA IS BACK

Alexby: They are rubius brothers, they are ugly as him THESE GUYS ARE SO MEAN TO EACH OTHER LMFAO

QUACKITY PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU, YOU AND LUZU HAVE TO UNITE TO FIGHT TOGETHER

Vegetta: Alien attack thumbnail! :D VEGETTA NOW IS NOT THE TIME LMFAO

Quackity: What have you done, Luzu! Luzu: This wasn't me! It's from outside town! Can't we stop fighting for a second?!?! LMFAO QUACKITY IM BEGGING YOU

Quackity: After im done with this, you are gonna be the next one, Luzu. QUACKITY NO.... well you can’t say he doesn’t keep his eye on the prize

OH.... THE IRONY....

Quackity was being attacked by an alien and Luzu rushed to protect him :((( Some things never change

I love how Quackity’s shaders add to the atmospheric-ness of the moment

Meanwhile Rubius and Vegetta are watching each other’s backs to make sure they’re safe wahHHH

Sapo Peta???

PLEASE don’t let Sapo Peta die today

Rubius: Help! Vegetta: I’ll save you even if I don’t like you Rubius: Careful, behind you! Don’t touch Vegetta, you bastard!

QUACKITY STOP BLAMING LUZU FOR TWO SECONDS AND LISTEN PLEASE!!!

STAXX KEEPS FLASHBANGING EVERYONE LMAO

Oh they’re gonna team up against the aliens and fight on Wednesday??? WELP. AT LEAST IT WONT BE WHILE IM AT WORK TOMORROW

Luzu: I compromised with Quackity to join forces one day and fight for the people. Quackity, are u free on Wednesday? LMFAO that’s so frickin cute it’s like they’re planning a date. Imagine aliens are raining down fire and Luzu’s like “So uh. You can’t do today or tomorrow, how about Wednesday?”

Vegetta: It’s a date it’s a date!!! LMFAO OK SO I WASN”T THE ONLY ONE WHO THOUGHT THAT, ALRIGHT.

Everyone: FOR KARMALAND!!!! SOBS

Staxx: AND HERE’S ONE MORE FLASHBANG! :D PFTTT

WAIT WHAT ABOUT WILLY

Luzu: Quackity... Quackity: I don’t want to talk to you ahhh the way they stopped to look at each other :(((

Sapo Peta said they have to revive Titi to get his help to make a spaceship MAN. IS THAT THE ONLY WAY POOR TITI IS GETTING REVIVED LMAO

OHHH THEYRE GONNA GO TO ANOTHER PLANET, COOL

WAIT WHY ARE THEY GOING TO THE END TO KILL THE DRAGON

Luzu’s getting hit with such bad lag they suggested he go rest and Quackity was like “Rest? You’re such an old man” LMAO

Sapo Peta suggesting a party at Vegetta’s house PFTT. IT”S A TRADITION, I KNOW, BUT

Quackity: If Luzu doesn’t leave the mayor’s office after all this is over, I’ll kill him

NOOOO poor Luzu his lag is so bad :((( At least Alexby is hanging out with him

AWH... LUZU REUNITED ALEXBY WITH HIS HARAMBEE MONKEY.... :’) He’s still good in his heart of hearts

I flip from that wholesome scene to Vegetta and Rubius fighting about cats like an old married couple

Quackity is essentially just shoving his camera in Rubius and Vegetta’s faces rn LMAO

Luzu: I was taking care of him here. Alexby: I'll forgive you for everything! AWH... FRIENDSHIP WINS

Luzu’s having a heavy lore moment rn by himself meanwhile Quackity is chasing Rubius and Vegetta around listening to them fight with a giant grin on his face

Luzu: We won't do it for ego, or pride, or to show off. We'll do it for Karmaland! It's always for Karmaland. I love him so much

AHHHH Luzu looks so beautiful with the snow behind him like that

Awh Luzu did a great job

MEANWHILE QUACKITY....

Quackity: Any conversation between you two (Rubius and Vegetta) looks like a reality show, you guys get so frickin angry LMAO

Vegetta: It’s his fault! He’s the one who’s fighting! Rubius: Me? You’re the one crying. Mua mua mua

OH They’re fighting because Rubius wants to go to the end and Vegetta says they should do it when they’re all together I AGREE WITH VEGETTA

IT REALLY DOES

SAPO PETA PULLED A FRICKIN ROCKET LAUNCHER ON THEM LMFAO, HE’S SO SICK OF THEM FIGHTING

Now LMFAO WAIT HOLD ON

hang on I’m clipping that

Rubius, chasing Vegetta and asking for a kiss Vegetta, spitting on him Quackity, pulling up their ages:

QUACKITY CAN”T DO MATH

Rubius: You don’t have a son! Vegetta: But I have my cats! >:( Quackity: Your guys’ ages combined are 65, just thought I’d let you know Quackity is SUCH a bastard, I love him so much

I love that Rubius and Vegetta will be yelling at each other at the top of their lungs then Rubius will give him a kiss and apologize. Lord. k!Rubegetta are so sweet....30 years married couple

NOT QUACKITY ASKING VEGETTA HOW TO FIND MODS AFTER BEING IN KARMALAND FOR 6 MONTHS.... BOY....

Awh Rubius told Quackity he was very handsome yesterday HE”S RIGHT

Quackity: Why would you make me have to team with Luzu to defeat this enemy? You know I hate him! Sapo Peta: ... just listen for a moment Oh???

HUH

THAT CAN”T ACTUALLY BE A GIFT FROM LUZU CAN IT???

Luzu destroyed his house and Sapo Peta just gave him a house he said was from Luzu. Is it really though??? Or is this Sapo Peta trying to smooth things over between Quackity and Luzu?

Quackity’s first instinct is to look for cameras because he doesn’t trust Luzu :(((

Quackity complaining about the house when Quackity’s own house that he built didn’t have a roof for MONTHS

Quackity: Trust Luzu? You want me to trust Luzu!? Sapo Peta, I'll tell you the truth: right now, I've made a temporary alliance just for Karmaland's sake, but when this is through, I'm going to put a bullet through Luzu's head. AGH... But yeah. Quackity’s not one to forgive and forget, no matter what happened

Quackity: I am bad because of the effects of my action, but I have never hurt anyone. It is always because they have forced me. They see my stupid face and I have to defend myself :((((((((( I want to hug him so tightly

Sapo Peta: That’s the talk of a terrorist That’s fair

Only one braincell between Rubius and Quackity, I swear

WHY ARE THEY MINING OIL ON QUACKITY”S OLD HOUSE

Girl the next Karmaland war is going to be about oil, I swear

MAN. MANNNNN IM SO GLAD IT DIDNT END IN BLOODSHED this is the best outcome I could’ve hoped for. This feels more in-line with Karmaland’s theme

This gives them time to heal and possibly reconcile, or at least, for tensions to lessen. I think Luzu will wind up forgiving him, but Quackity can’t. Either that, or Luzu will sacrifice himself to protect everyone else (which would suck and be a bad ending, but it seems likely too). Can’t wait to see what happens on Wednesday!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it

[jay4firefic]

Last Train Home

Summary: When a train crashes just outside of LA, Buck doesn’t expect to find his ex-fiance Kelly Severide searching the wreckage for Shay. And this close to the anniversary of Andy Darden’s death - the event that broke them both, and their relationship with them - he’s not willing to stand by and watch any more old friends die. 3x18 rewrite for anon.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Pacific West 1135 from Phoenix to LA has derailed somewhere near the LA County line. Whatever your mass casualty protocol is, activate it. I need fire and rescue, USAR, local PD - everyone you can send, as fast as you can send them.”

“I’ll call them now. It seems like you’ve done this before.”

“I’m a firefighter out of Chicago. Dealt with a train crash before. Look, I’m going back in--”

“Sir, I need you to stay on the line. Help is on the way.”

“Help’s gonna be too late for a lot of these people.”

Click.

------

Buck dozes restlessly for most of the hour long ride to the county line, jerking awake every time Mason hits a pothole or flips the sirens on to speed through traffic. He’s exhausted, has barely slept in days, because every time dreams pull him under he sees a wall of fire rushing toward him and a burning body on the floor. He knows from experience that the rest of the week will be just as bad. 

Four years and the anniversary of Darden’s death hasn’t gotten any damn easier.

“Hey, Buckaroo,” Hen calls through the headset, her hand on his knee. When Buck cracks his eyes open he can see her leaning toward him in the darkness of the cab. “You alright? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Am I supposed to be cracking jokes on the way to a mass casualty?” he asks, and regrets it immediately. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m fine, Hen, just having a bad day.”

She opens her mouth as if to speak again, Eddie leaning in on Buck’s other side to eye him with concern, only to be cut off when the truck shudders to a stop in the dirt. Buck is first out the door just to get away from those looks. He stops dead just outside and doesn’t move until Eddie runs into his back.

The headlights of the trucks and a few hastily set up flood lights are the only thing illuminating the scene outside, throwing deep shadows and obscuring a good chunk of the wreckage. It still looks like something that belongs on a film set rather than in real life. Twisted plastic and metal litter the ground, smoke is pouring out of one of the train cars, and even in the darkness Buck can see bodies - pieces of them, at least - scattered in every direction.

“Jesus,” Buck breathes, while Eddie mutters what might be a curse or might be a prayer in Spanish beside him. A moment later they turn in unison at the sound of Bobby’s voice.

“Buck, Eddie, go have a look. See if there’s a way to secure that car so we can get those people out.”

Buck nods jerkily as he moves away to pull the rest of his gear on and picks his way across the debris field in Eddie’s wake, trying not to look too hard at what’s under his feet. He’s seen more than his fair share of mass casualties before - the earthquake, the tsunami - but he’s always been in the middle of them, experiencing it right alongside the victims. Something about showing up to pick up the pieces after the worst of it is over hits him differently. 

He’s shaken enough that he doesn’t even register the shouting at first. A man’s voice, hoarse and desperate, raised above the more measured tones of another pair of firefighters. He would have walked right past if Eddie hadn’t led them toward the scuffle.

“Get out of my goddamn way, I need to get back into that car!”

Eddie steps forward, lets the other guys escape back to doing the real work of saving people. Buck lingers several feet behind him to continue surveying the precariously tilted train car, but no matter what angle he looks at it from one thing is clear. There’s no good way in. Not without risking the whole thing coming down on them.

“Sir, I’m sorry. We can’t let you inside. It’s too dangerous.”

“I know it’s dangerous, I’m a fucking firefighter. I need to get into that car. My girl is in there.”

“I hear you,” Eddie says, hands extended and voice level. There’s something so familiar about the other voice that Buck finally glances over his shoulder at the argument. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait,” the man stumbles forward in the dark, grabbing Eddie’s sleeve. The light finally catches the silver in his hair, the piercing blue of his eyes, the blood dripping down his face from a ragged cut across his brow. Buck would recognize that face anywhere. “Are you from the 118?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replies, voice full of confusion, as Buck’s voice cracks around a soft cry of, “Kelly?” 

Kelly’s gaze snaps to him immediately, eyes going wide as Buck pulls off his helmet and turns toward the light. “Buck?”

And suddenly Buck’s feet are moving without his consent and the handful of yards between them have disappeared. His gloves are off and his hands are cupping Kelly’s stubble-roughened cheeks before his brain catches up with his body, and by then it’s too late. He inspects the cut on Kelly’s brow, the way he’s cradling his left arm across his torso at an implausible angle, and barely even sees the strange look Eddie is giving him in his peripheral vision. “You were on the train? Why the hell aren’t you collared and backboarded?”

“I’m fine,” Kelly bites out. He shakes Buck’s hands off and tries to push past him, hissing in pain when their shoulders collide. 

“Kelly, we need to get you checked out.”

“No, I’m fine. I need to get back up there. I need--”

“That’s crazy. No, no, Kelly, stop.” Buck hauls Kelly back by his good shoulder, forces him to sit on a nearby piece of rubble. The fact that it’s so easy to move him is proof enough that he shouldn’t be going anywhere. 

“Shay is still in there!” Kelly’s voice breaks as he tries to gain his feet again only to wobble and sit down heavily. Clearly concussed, and still too stubborn to stop trying to be the hero. “Shay is still--”

Buck sucks in a sharp breath and feels his heart rate spike with panic. Shay is still in there. Shay is still in there. Andy died four years ago this week and Shay is still in there. “Where were you?” he manages to ask around the lump in his throat.

“We were in the top car, all the way in the back.” Kelly uses his good arm to point to the upended train car, because of course that’s where they were. The only person Buck has ever met with worse luck than himself is Kelly Severide. “She fell asleep. I went to get a drink, and…”

“We’ll find her.” Buck looks up at the groaning slab of metal and glass and swallows back bile. “Eddie and I will find her, alright? But you have to stay here.”

“Hell no--”

“Kel, if you go into that train you’re going to end up another victim we have to rescue. And every second I spend pulling your ass out of the wreckage will be another second Shay isn’t getting help. I’m going to find her. I’m going to bring her back to you. But you need to stay here, alright?” When Kelly keeps fighting him, Buck plays dirty. He smacks Kelly’s shoulder - dislocated, he’s pretty sure - and watches all of the color drain out of his face. “Stay here. I’ll find her.”

Kelly’s glare might frighten someone else - is enough to have Eddie stepping up to Buck’s shoulder to back him up - but Buck knows better. He crosses his arms and glares back and when Buck doesn’t back down Kelly finally folds, nodding his head and then wincing when it clearly pains him. Buck is already starting to turn away when Kelly catches his sleeve and somehow, the look on his face when Buck glances back at him is worse than the glare. Raw and painful and scared like Buck has only seen him a few times. 

“If you can’t get her out…”

“We’re going to get her out.”

“Evan,” Kelly says, low and desperate. “If you can’t get her out, tell her I love her, okay? Tell her I love her.”

Buck tugs his sleeve free of Kelly’s grasp and shakes his head stubbornly. “I’m going to get her out.”

------

“So, Kelly, huh?” 

Buck knows Eddie is just looking for something to distract them both from crawling over dead bodies to get into the crumpled train car. He just wishes Eddie would pick literally any other topic. Instead of answering he keys his radio, reports, “two black tags at the entrance to the car.”

“Is that the Kelly I’m thinking of, Buck?”

“My ex-fiance Kelly?” Buck replies, because there’s no way he’s getting out of this conversation no matter how much he doesn’t want to have it. “Yep. That’s Kelly.”

“You didn’t tell me he was…”

“A guy? Yeah, well, I didn’t tell you a lot of things, Eds.” His bitter laugh comes out breathless as he starts climbing the seats like the world’s most awkward ladder. There’s another lifeless body halfway up the car - Eddie stops to confirm her obvious death while Buck keeps going, dragging himself a few awkward inches at a time up toward the cascade of blonde hair barely visible at the top of the car. “Shay? Shay, is that you?!”

A pained groan echoes through the train and one of the pale hands hanging over the edge of the furthest seat twitches. Buck’s heart is in his throat as he scrambles up the last few feet to brace himself between a steel beam and a half-crushed seat, reminding himself all the while that it might not be her. It might not be her. But--

It is.

Buck sags with relief as Shay lifts her head to look at him, blinking hard when her eyes won’t seem to focus. “Buck?”

“Hey, Shay.” Buck nearly sobs, covers it with a shaky laugh as Eddie approaches. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a dump like this?”

“Dunno.” She looks around as much as she can without moving her head, her eyes widening as she takes in Buck, scraped and covered in grime already, and the disaster behind him. “Shit.”

“Yeah. How are you feeling?” Buck takes one of her hands in his and is relieved when she winds her fingers through his. He yanks the glove off of his other hand with his teeth and checks the pulse in her neck - it’s racing, and he doesn’t like the sound of her breathing. He tries not to look at the way Eddie is frowning as he climbs behind Shay to inspect what’s keeping her pinned.

“Hurts when I breathe,” she replies, squeezing his hand weakly. “You sure I’m not dead?”

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

“Weird. Could swear I’m looking at the face of an angel.” There’s blood on her teeth when she smiles, and her eyes still won’t focus on his face, but Buck grins anyway. A moment later it melts off his face when her expression turns to panic. “Kelly--”

“Is fine,” Buck cuts her off. “Busted his arm and he’s gonna need a few stitches, but he’s fine, okay? We’re worrying about you right now. Eddie?”

Eddie grimaces as he slides back down to lean against the seats on the other side of the aisle. He thumbs his radio, speaking to Buck and Bobby at the same time. “Cap, we got a passenger up here. Looks like the support beam from the observation deck broke through the floor. Need you to send up the jaws.”

“Copy that,” Bobby’s voice crackles through both of their radios. “Coming right up.”

The waiting is always the worst part. Shay’s breathing is labored and uneven, her eyes taking longer and longer to open between each blink. Buck cups her jaw and rubs his thumb across her cheek until the forces herself to look at him again, asks, “What the hell are you two doing on a train in Los Angeles anyway?”

“Andy loved trains,” Shay mumbles, leaning her head heavily into his palm. She doesn’t seem to notice the way Buck flinches at Andy’s name, but Eddie sure as hell does. “Kelly found this old list - bucket list, that they made when they joined CFD. Kid stuff, y’know? Buy a motorcycle, marry a beautiful woman, hike the Grand Canyon...we decided to check some things off the list.”

“The train was coming from Arizona.” Buck only remembers bits and snatches of Bobby’s briefing as they had all piled into the truck, but just like always it’s the random pieces of trivia that get stuck in his mind. “Let me guess, Grand Canyon?”

“It’s very grand.” Shay coughs - wheezes, really, because she can’t get enough breath in to do anything more. Buck is pretty sure her ribs are busted, among other things, but as long as the beam is pinning her to the seat it’s impossible to confirm. 

“What’s next?” Buck asks, sending a panicked glance toward Eddie when her eyes drift closed again. He can hear someone climbing up below them, hopefully bringing the requested equipment, and sends up a prayer to a God he long ago stopped believing in that it’s soon enough to save her. “What’s next, Shay? Marry a beautiful woman? We’ve got plenty of those in LA.”

Shay shakes her head without opening her eyes. And fuck, her lips are turning blue. “Hollywood Walk of Fame. Surfing in California. Then Mexico.”

“Hey.” The seat Buck is braced against shudders as Bobby uses it to haul himself up the last few feet. “Take this, Buck. Eddie, what’s going on?”

“Think she might have a collapsed lung from the blunt force,” Eddie replies as Buck releases Shay and scrambles to get the jaws in position. “I can relieve the pressure, but we gotta move the beam off her.”

Buck growls in frustration as the jaws shudder and fail to make any progress toward that goal. “Still too heavy, Cap. It’s not gonna budge.”

“Alright. Let’s try the hydraulic ram.”

Buck braces his feet against the seats and grunts as he takes the heavy piece of equipment from Bobby and jams it into the space between the upturned floor and the beam. He determinedly doesn’t pay attention to the way Shay’s head has sagged forward against the seat again, or how Eddie is frowning at the O2 sensor he just slipped onto her finger, his mutter of, “Oxygen levels are dropping. Definitely a collapsed lung.” All he can do is move the damn beam.

With the horrible sound of warping metal, the thing finally starts to move. Shay takes a deeper breath as the pressure holding her against the seat begins to relax - and then the screaming starts. Buck stops the ram before Bobby’s shouts even register, watches Eddie and Bobbie drop down a few seats, and has maybe the most selfish thought he’s ever had in his life. He wishes there was no one else alive up here, because every second they spend treating someone else is a second they aren’t rescuing Shay.

Buck closes his eyes, tries to breathe through the panic as Eddie announces the girl’s broken leg, the fact that it’s still receiving blood flow, over the horrible wet background noise of Shay’s breaths becoming more labored. It takes all of his willpower to put his back to Shay and move down to meet them halfway between the victims, and when he speaks his voice comes out hoarse and breathless. “What’s going on?”

“They’re both trapped by the same beam,” Bobby announces, and Buck’s heart drops into his stomach. “We take the pressure off one and we’re squeezing the other. Which one has the better shot?”

Eddie glances up at Buck once before shaking his head. “Injuries are different, the risk is the same.”

“Wait, what are we saying?” Breathe, Buck reminds himself. Nothing is decided yet. Shay is still getting out of here, she has to get out of here alive. “We gotta pick who to save?”

Bobby looks at him pityingly and Buck is pretty sure his heart stops beating for a second. “I’m saying I don’t think we can save ‘em both.”

“Fuck.” Buck slams his fist against the nearest seat.

“Look,” Bobby says, holding one hand up placatingly while balancing himself with the other. “We’re gonna give them both some pain meds and try to figure this out, okay? We’re not giving up yet. But we have to be prepared.”

Buck nods mutely while Eddie reaches for his bag, climbs back up to Shay so that Eddie can get past with a handful of medical supplies. He takes one of her hands and watches as Eddie pulls his gloves off and then takes the other, looking for a vein in the light of his helmet lamp and making a small triumphant noise when he finds one. “You’re gonna feel a little pinch.”

Shay lets out a shaky exhale that might be a weak attempt at laughter. “Not my biggest concern right now, buddy.”

“I know,” Eddie replies. He gets the needle in on the first try and pushes the painkillers only moments later. “Alright, Shay. This is for the pain. It should hit you pretty soon.”

“I sure as hell hope so.” If she’s got energy to be snarky Buck has to believe she’s got the energy to hang on a little while longer, even if she can’t really lift her head anymore.

“Keep her talking,” Eddie commands as he passes Buck on his way back down to the other woman. Buck determinedly doesn’t listen to Eddie’s low conversation with Bobby and the victim, doesn’t want to know what her chances are because if they’re good it means Shay’s aren’t.

“It’s her...or me, isn’t it?” Shay wheezes, managing to roll her head to the side and watch Buck’s face. Her eyes are dull and tired beneath a tangle of bloody blonde hair, almost resigned.

“No,” Buck says, with more confidence than he feels. She just smiles sadly as he reaches up to brush the hair out of her face - she’s always been able to see right through him. “No, that’s not what we do. Tell me about your trip.”

“God, I missed you, kid,” she says instead, too quiet for anyone else to hear. “Every day. He does too, you know?”

“I know,” Buck replies, even though he doesn’t. If Kelly had really missed him all these years it would have been easy enough to fly out to LA and tell him that, or even just call him - everyone at 51 knew where he was the whole damn time. Hell, Kelly even knew what house he’s with. He’s spared from having to listen to Shay insist by Bobby’s grunt. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, I’m calling it,” Bobby says as soon as Buck has joined their little huddle. “We start with this girl, we get her out.”

“Copy that,” Eddie says, like it’s any other order on any other day, while Buck’s world collapses beneath him.

“No!” He feels sick. He feels dizzy. Andy died four years ago this week and Shay is being crushed by a beam right in front of his eyes and… “No, it’s gonna crush Shay’s other lung. She’ll die.”

“I am aware of that. The protocol dictates that we save whoever has the better chance, and Eddie’s saying that’s the girl.”

“No.” Buck can’t wrap his brain around the concept of a world without Leslie Shay in it. He hasn’t seen her in over three damn years, but she’s always been there on the other end of the phone - sending him pictures of Kelly and the stupid cat he still pretends to hate, updating him on the latest gossip from 51, asking when he’s going to come home. What the hell is he going to do without someone to remind him that he’s always got a home to go back to, no matter how bad things might get in LA? 

“Her vitals are stronger, Shay’s starting to decompensate. If we have to choose--”

“We do,” Bobby interjects. “We can’t move that steel beam.”

Buck has his mouth open to argue when the whole train car shudders and tilts. He grabs onto the nearest seatback and risks a glance over his shoulder at Shay, at the way her shoulders are shuddering with every inhale, at the blood on her lips, at the knowing look in her eyes. “Okay,” he says, “okay, you’re right. We can’t move the beam. But the skin on this thing, the skin is stainless. That’s much thinner. I could go outside, I could cut a piece out, pull the girl through, and that will buy us enough time to save Shay.”

“No.” Bobby’s frustration is clear - he thinks Buck is wasting time. And maybe he is, but he’s trying to buy enough of it to keep Shay alive. “This car hasn’t been secured, that’s why we’re working on the inside. If this thing topples, we can ride it down. But if you’re on the outside…”

Buck cuts him off. “Yeah, I know. I will be crushed by 100 tons of train car, and I know that is a lot heavier than a fire truck.” He says it matter of factly, like the thought of being crushed between another piece of metal and the cold, hard ground isn’t making his stomach twist up in knots. Like he doesn’t still wake up screaming and clutching at his bad leg at least two nights a week. Because right now, none of that matters. Only Shay does. “But Bobby…”

“Buck, stop,” Eddie says. Endlessly reasonable Eddie. “I know you made a promise.”

“What promise?”

“To Shay’s boyfriend,” Eddie clarifies, and Buck doesn’t bother to correct him. He’s got bigger problems at the moment than whether Kelly and Shay are still getting mistaken for a couple after all these years. 

“I promised I would bring her back to him,” Buck says instead.

“What?” Bobby’s expression is caught somewhere between horror and anger.

“To Kelly,” Eddie says, and his expression is just disgusted. “Her boyfriend is Kelly.”

Shock flickers across Bobby’s face, then resignation. “Okay.”

“No, look,” Buck reaches out one hand desperately, trying to keep Bobby from turning away. From killing Shay. “She’s one of us. She’s a paramedic in Chicago, okay? She saves lives every day. We can’t just let her die.”

“Stop,” Bobby says, finally raising his voice. “You are too close to this. This is too risky.”

“Well, I am willing to take the risk.” Willing to trade his life for his, if that’s what it takes.

This time Bobby snaps. “It’s not yours to take. You can’t just rush into any dangerous situation and assume it’s gonna be okay. ‘Cause sometimes it’s not, and I am tired of being on the wrong side of those hospital visits.”

And Buck is - he’s just sick of it. He’s not a child running headlong into danger because he doesn’t understand the consequences. He’s been a firefighter for nine fucking years, he’s watched friends and strangers die right in front of his eyes. Nearly died himself more than once. There’s no way he would rather go out than saving someone - anyone, but especially a friend. 

“Bobby,” he grits out. “I am not Athena. And I am not your son.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“Enough!” Eddie shouts over the both of them. “We don’t have time for this. Buck, come on.”

“No.” Buck doesn’t look away from Bobby. Wills him to understand that he has to do this. “Nobody has to die, okay? I can save them both. So stop wasting time and let me do it.”

Bobby switches to a different tactic, visibly pushing his frustration down and reaching for the expression of a disappointed but hopeful father. “Buck, you don’t owe this to Kelly, alright? You don’t owe him your life.”

“This isn’t about Kelly!” Buck can feel his voice raising, hear the other girl crying and the way Shay has started whimpering with every exhale. “This is about Shay. I would dig her out of here with my bare fucking hands whether Kelly is here or not. And I am not going to let her die because you’re more worried about risking harm to me than guaranteeing her death. I’m going out there whether you like it or not - so either help me, or get the hell out of my way.”

Buck turns and scrambles back up the seats to Shay and his gear. He has a harness, rope, a saw. He can do this on his own if he has to, though it would be easier with Eddie’s help. Eddie who is busy having a furiously whispered conversation with Bobby that he doesn’t care to listen in on. If he has to listen to them weighing the value of his life against Shay’s he’s going to start screaming and he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop.

“Buck,” Shay whispers, watching as he ties the rope onto his harness and starts searching for an anchor point near the window he intends to go out of. “I can still hear, you know. You don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Buck replies. A thrill of triumph runs through him as Bobby shouts up that he’s going down to see if they can stabilize the car and orders Eddie to ‘help Buck, before he gets himself killed.’ “I know, but I want to. No place I’d rather be than between you and certain death.”

“Kelly will forgive you.”

“It’s not about Kelly!” Buck snaps at her, wincing when she flinches away from the noise. He feels Eddie at his shoulder, passes off the rope to him and starts working on busting open a window instead. “I am not going to watch any more friends die, Shay. Not this week, not ever if there’s anything I can do about it. Don’t ask me to do that. And don’t ask me to walk out of here without a scratch and tell Kelly the love of his life is dead either, okay?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Shay sighs, quieter with every word. Buck can barely hear her over the sound of the window shattering. They’re running out of time. “That’s always been you.”

It’s not true, Buck knows. It’s always been Kelly-and-Shay, it always will be Kelly-and-Shay, and he was never jealous of that. They love each other, are meant to grow old and gray and die together. They loved him too, once, and maybe they still do, but it’s not the same.

“Just shut up and let me save you,” he says, as Eddie finishes rigging up the rope and pulley.

He makes the mistake of looking back at her one more time and sees tears cutting tracks in the blood and grime on her face. “If I don’t make it out of this--”

“Don’t.”

“If I don’t make it out of this, Evan, just...tell Kelly I love him, okay?”

“You’re going to make it out of this.”

“I love you too, kid. Never stopped.”

Buck exchanges a tense glance with Eddie and hauls himself and the saw out the window without another word.

------

“That’s Buckley, isn’t it?” Kelly demands of the man wearing Captain’s gear and barking orders into a radio. He had come out of the upended train car looking tense and pissed off, and isn’t any happier when he rounds on Kelly. “What the hell is he doing?”

“Kelly, right?” Captain Nash asks, and he looks a little like he’d rather be punching Kelly than talking to him. “Your girlfriend is alive. And she’s going to stay that way, even if it kills Buck.”

Kelly doesn’t bother to correct him, or to respond to the barely veiled accusation in his words. He only has eyes for Buck and the shuddering, creaking train car he’s descending on a rope, putting his life at risk to save someone else’s. Just like Kelly has watched him do dozens of times before. Except it’s nothing like before, because he can’t stop thinking, I sent him in there. I sent him in there and now he might die. But it was for Shay, and it’s - it’s an impossible choice, Buck or Shay, the woman who’s never left his side or the love he chased away because he couldn’t see past his own grief. 

He would trade places with either of them in a heartbeat.

“Come on, Evan,” Kelly murmurs. “Come on. You’ve got this.”

Second half coming later this week.

[lonelyreputation]

Different (part two)

A/N: Surprise!! I’m posting earlier than I thought I would! And we’re back with the angst!! Straight angst! Like literally all of this is angst there’s nothing else. Also! I just started a tag list, so send me a message if you want to be added!!

Don’t we all just love some unrequited love?? 💞 💖

Also, your support has been so tremendous, thank you guys all so much, I love you to the moon and to Saturn 😉 💫 THANKS A MILLION! Reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated!! 🤗💞🌻

REQUEST/PROMPT: People talking a room away & Fighting the urge to cry & Unrequited Love 

Part ONE | Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: Few swear words, some self-doubt, and ANGST!!!

Word Count: 5.7K

Shawn’s texts are bold and italicized & your texts are in italics 

-

You promptly left the party, the broken glass left unattended on the floor, and silently cried the whole way back to your apartment with your arms hugging tight around your stomach.

Opening the door to your apartment wasn’t an easy task.  Tears clouded your vision as you fumbled to find the right key to open the door.  You had bit the inside of your cheek repeatedly on the walk home causing you to taste metallic every time you swallowed back a sob.  Your chin wobbled, and just when you were about to give up and sit out in the hallway to cry, your roommate opened the door with a questioning look.

“How was the…party?”

She’s different––She’s just a friend––I don’t love her.

You brushed past her, “Fantastic.” You said as a few more tears fell from your eyes and your voice cracked.

She seemed to have caught the sarcasm behind your voice that alluded to the party being anything but fantastic.  Your bloodshot eyes and wobbly chin also gave her a good indication that you left the party early.

There weren’t anymore words exchanged between the two of you as you quickly walked to your room to finally break down.  You held a hand to your chest, clutching your necklace, a birthday present from Shawn, in a fist as you gasped out for air.

You’re different.  You’re just a friend.  He doesn’t love you.

You had a hand on the handle of your bathroom door as you harshly banged against it with your shoulder to open it wide.  Once the door was closed, and you felt safe from the world around you, as you leaned up against the door and let out a cry of desperation.  You were so sure that Shawn was the love of your life.  You were positive that he had felt something––maybe not love––but some type of feelings for you that were stronger than friendship.

You slid down the door until you were sitting on the cold tiles, the only thing giving you a feeling other than absolute heartbreak.  You tried your best to keep your cries quiet, clenching your teeth and hissing out a breath every now and then in order not to draw anymore attention from your roommate.  You could physically feel your chest caving in on your heart.

The necklace that was still being held tightly in your hand burned your exposed skin.  Hastily, you unclasped it from your neck, and heard the little dink of a sound as the soft metal material of the necklace collided against the tile.

You bent your knees and hugged your legs close to your chest, failing at sniffling back your sobs as you rested your forehead on top of your knees.  You were second guessing every interaction you had with Shawn; the soft smiles from across a crowded room, him randomly sending you flowers when he knew you were stressed, how he touched you only a few hours ago.

Who said anything about love?

You tried to hold back something between a sob and a shout as you heard Brian’s question repeat over and over in your head.  You felt hot all over your body, and most of all, you felt like a fool for listening to Olivia’s advice about confessing your true feelings to your best friend.  The back of your head started to throb and the ache of your breaking heart was having a tortuous physical effect on the rest of your body.

Buzz.  Buzz.

You lifted your head to see your phone vibrating against the tile, moving ever so slightly with every ring.  A new wave of tears started to fall over as you saw Shawn’s contact picture; a picture you took of him asleep on the couch after the first time you watched 10 Things I Hate About You.  You let the call go unanswered.  Once you saw his picture disappear, you let out a shaky breath, but it didn’t last long because his picture showed up on your phone again.

You screened his call again.

Thankfully, he didn’t try calling you again, but your phone continued to buzz indicating that a few text messages were being received.  You bit your lip as you brought your arm up to your nose to wipe away the excess of tears that mixed with your runny nose and read the text messages.

Where are you? I came back to the kitchen and didn’t see you?

Are you still here? Y/n?

Liv just told me you were feeling sick, do you need anything? I can come around tomorrow morning. Love you & hope you feel better xx

Just like your necklace, you slid your phone across the bathroom tile for it to be as far away from you.

Love you? The malicious part of your brain spoke up, ha.  He even said it himself, he’s never loved you.

And again, the sane part of your mind didn’t have a rebuttal.

///

It had been five days since you eavesdropped on Shawn and Brian’s conversation.  Five days since Shawn said he didn’t love you.  Five dreadfully long days since your best friend broke your heart and you had to pretend like everything was fine.

Everything was not fine.

On the first day, you left his texts unanswered and told your roommate to turn him away if he showed up at your door.  Day two, you respond to his texts saying you had a migraine and couldn’t look at any bright lights, your excuse for not responding to any of his messages.  Day three, he came over to your apartment with pizza, two big fuzzy blankets, and your favorite Pixar movie because, you always watch Pixar when you’re feeling sick, I know you, he said.  

I know you; but he didn’t know that you were purposefully avoiding him.    

On day four, you were back over at Shawn’s apartment with Brian.  Like you had done earlier when Shawn had just come home from tour, the three of you were out on his deck with the fire going. Brian was in the single chair again while you and Shawn were sharing the couch.  Except this time, your head wasn’t nestled into his chest, you were sitting on the complete opposite end with your feet tucked under you.

Brian and Shawn both had alcoholic drinks of their choice while you had a glass of water.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

“So, Shawn,” Brian quickly looked over at you for a brief moment before he looked at the boy in question, “Write any good songs?”

You wrapped the blanket tighter around your body, using it as a shield for whatever his answer would be, as you took a sip of your water.  You stared at the CN Tower, pretending like you weren’t interested in their conversation.

You felt Shawn’s eyes glance at your figure for a second before he took a sip of his drink and nodded, “A few.”

“Oh c’mon,” Brian let out a little laugh as he looked at you until you gave him a roll of his eyes, “It’s just us––It’s not like we’re gonna leak them.”

“Y/n heard one of them.”

Brian raised his eyebrows, “Did she now?”  

They both expected you to give your input, but you stayed silent, pretending to be enamored with the city lights.

When Brian noticed that his two best friends weren’t going to say anything, he cleared his throat, “And what did you think of it?”

With a question directed at you, you knew you couldn’t avoid contributing to any part of the conversation any longer.  You shot Brian a glare, as you took a sip of water to stall some time, “It was nice.”

Brian threw his head back in laughter at your simple answer and Shawn stared at you with a questioning tilt of his head.  You knew that he was thinking back to your taco night when he nervously played the song for you.  Where you praised him for his songwriting abilities and said it was your favorite song he had ever written.  But the more you thought back on that night, the more you noticed how distracted he was.  

He didn’t want to mix the spices, and while you measured the different seasonings, you would glance up at him to see his thumbs rapidly moving across the screen of his phone.  You remember asking him what was so important on his phone when you caught him smiling down at it.  And he didn’t tell you any specific stories from when he was on tour, which were always a topic of discussion on taco night. He specifically brushed away your questions about Los Angeles.  

“There would be a million girls out there who would die to listen to an unreleased Shawn Mendes song and all you say is that it’s nice?”

You shrugged your shoulders and took another sip of water, hoping it would ease the familiar scratchiness at the back of your throat, “Yeah.”

Just thinking about the song that was so clearly written for you made you want to cry like you did that night you found out Shawn didn’t love you.  When you first heard the song, you wanted that sweet guitar melody ingrained in your mind forever.  You wanted those lyrics tattooed somewhere on your body that was only visible to you.  He had sung about having a different kind of love for you.

Different.

You finished your water and excused yourself to get a refill with a sniffle as you went into his kitchen, wiping away a few stubborn tears that fell.

But the fifth day…The fifth day was worse than the day you overheard Shawn say he didn’t love you.

You were out grocery shopping when you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.  Unlocking it, you saw a text from Shawn; Busy?

Out food shopping, you texted back, everything alright?

I’m bored.

You let out a small laugh at his response, pushing your cart out of the aisle you were in and stood off to the side, not wanting to disrupt anyone’s shopping habits.

Poor you, you texted back, I’m sure you’re really missing the tour life right now.

Nah, he texted back instantly, just missing you.

Your heart soared with happiness, but only for a split second.  He didn’t see you in the same way you saw him.  He didn’t look at you like you hung the stars in the sky.  He didn’t think of you as being someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

With a frown, your thumbs moved quickly across the screen, Boo hoo.

:(

Come over.

You weren’t expecting him to be so direct.  You hadn’t hung out alone since taco night and you weren’t sure you were strong enough to keep your composure together.

And don’t say you’re busy.

You only go food shopping when you have absolutely nothing to do.

Your thumbs stopped typing out your response.  Maybe, you thought to yourself, just maybe he does know you as well as you knew him.

Let me check out and drop the bags off at my place then I’ll head over.

:)

You felt your stomach churn with anxiety as you stared at the lone smiley face.  He usually texted with emojis, so you knew something was off when he was using simple keyboard emoticons.  It only made you that much more nervous to be alone with him.  

It didn’t take long to finish gathering what you needed and then headed to check out.  You didn’t have too much stuff, so it was easy to carry your reusable bags from the store front to the car without your cart.  Once your bags were placed in the back, and you were in the driver’s seat, you placed both hands on the steering wheel, gripping the leather material until your knuckles turned a few shades lighter than your skin tone, letting out a deep breath.

You told yourself you didn’t have a reason to be nervous.  Deep breath in.  You were the one who had the problem with Shawn, not the other way around, he didn't know you were in love with him.  Deep breath out.

Turning the key in your car took a little more effort than normal because you could feel your stomach tell you not to go over to Shawn’s place.  Your gut had a feeling that something wasn’t right.  But he was still your best friend, you still loved him, and you would do anything to have him in your life.

You drove home, quickly placing your groceries away, and then walked over to Shawn’s apartment.  Sure, it would’ve been easier to drive, but you couldn’t pass up the sweet summer air that whisked down the streets of Toronto.

Are you still coming?

A smile crept onto your face as you sent him an eye roll emoji, At the corner waiting to cross the street.  Be there in five.

:)

Instead of your stomach flipping with summersaults, it flipped with anxiety.  You shook your hands to free yourself of the nerves you felt inside, and smiled at the doorman who greeted you by name.  You made your way to the elevator, pressing the button to Shawn’s floor.  

You were always bouncing with excitement riding the elevator up to Shawn’s place because it meant that you were going to see him.  But now your leg bounced with anxiety and the ride up seemed to take hours.

Once on the floor, you made the journey to Shawn’s door, and before you could knock, Shawn swung open the door with a smile on his face.  You couldn’t even get a greeting out as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, leaning his cheek on top of your head.

You felt the familiar feeling of warmth that you associated with him as you felt his heartbeat. Out of instinct, you brought your arms around his torso and hugged him back just as tightly, breathing in his scent.

“C’mon,” Shawn squeezed you tight one last time before unraveling his arms from around you, letting his hand graze your down your arm to your hand where he intertwined your fingers, “Brian will be here in like an hour and I want you to myself for a bit.”

With your hand in his, he pulled you inside his apartment and you looked at the back of his head like he was leading you to an eternity of happiness.  As he pulled you past the kitchen and into the living room, he peered over his shoulder and offered you a shy smile.

Oh yes, you thought to yourself, you were still hopelessly in love with him; ready to bend yourself however which way just to see him smile.

He flopped onto the couch, with you standing above him, but with a gentle tug of your hand, you were falling into his chest with a laugh.  You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin through his cotton t-shirt seep into you.  You looked up at him through your eyelashes, his chest still vibrating with laughter, and you thought that even though he might like someone else, he may just love you.

“Wanna watch La La Land?”

His question brought you out of your daydream, “I thought you didn’t like the ending?”

Shawn shrugged his shoulders as he reached for the remote, the movie already queued up, “Haven’t seen it in a while.”

You slowly nodded your head, using your hand that was on his chest to push yourself off him.  But he caught your wrist in his hand, “Stay.”

With a smile slowly tugging at the corners of your lips, you nodded and laid your head on his chest, sliding your legs between his, as you felt his heartbeat accelerate. Around thirty minutes into the film, you felt Shawn bring one of his hands up to your head, softly running the tips of his fingers over your hair.

It was the little gestures that made you fall in love with your best friend.  How he always managed to relax you with a hand on your shoulder.  How he would listen intently over the phone when he was hundreds of miles away.  And how when you would be out on a date, he would call you after texting him your codeword for an excuse to leave.  But even if the date was going well, you would still text him to call, because he wasn’t the one sitting across from you.

As if you had plunged head first into the ocean, thoughts were swimming around in your mind;  his touches were comforting––you felt a spark tingle its way through your veins every time he touched you––you were never afraid to be yourself around him.

But soon the thoughts that made you feel like you were floating above the surface, suddenly swallowed you whole, and the thoughts only got worse, feeling as if you were thrashing around the water, reaching your hands up to break through to the surface; this is all you’ll ever be to him––You won’t ever have the joy of graduating to something more––Soon his gentle touches and soft eyes will be reserved for someone else––Someone he’s capable of loving––He’ll never want you in the way you want him.

As he repeated his movements of touching your hair, as if he didn’t give it a second thought, it was the only thing you were capable of giving your full attention to. The warmth you usually felt now felt like a burning sensation as it spread like a wildfire throughout your body.

You lifted your head from his chest abruptly before his hand could caress your hair once more.  Shawn was startled by your sudden movement and looked up at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I––Sorry, I––” you felt your chin wobble and you knew that you had to get away from him, “I have––I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You untangled your legs from his as you stumbled to get up, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth when your back was to him.  You could hear his distant voice asking if you wanted him to pause the film as you skidded across his floor to the bathroom.  You didn’t bother replying to him, already knowing how the film played out.

You tried to even out your breathing, soft gasps emitting from your lips as to not alert Shawn that you were having a breakdown in his bathroom.  You thought you could be friends with him, you were trying everything to keep him in your life, but it was taking too much of a toll on your feelings.

He loves you like a best friend, the rational part of your brain tried to make sense of your heartbreak.

But that’s not enough, the irrational part of your mind yelled over its counterpart, you’ll never be enough.

Your hands gripped the granite countertop so tight that your knuckles turned a few shades lighter than your original skin tone.  The coolness of the granite didn’t do anything to soothe the leftover burning you felt course through your veins from Shawn’s touches.  You lifted your head to look in the mirror and noticed that the reflection of the girl looking back at you was a heartbroken stranger.

Turning the sink on, you ran your hands under the cold water, cupping your hands under the faucet and splashing your face with water to cover up the redness of your eyes.  You grabbed a towel from the rack hanging on the wall after you had shut the water off and dried your hands.  You didn’t think you could last through the rest of the movie without breaking down, so you turned on your heel and opened the door, prepared to tell Shawn you had a headache and wanted to go home.  

But when you opened the door, you were met with Shawn leaning against the wall across the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, with a concerned, yet irked, look in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

HIs question was direct, and you had the truth banging from the inside of your skull, begging to be released; I love you––I want to be more than best friends––It’s killing me to not tell you how I feel––But I know you don’t love me.

“Nothing,” you tried to squash your thoughts, but it only made your headache hurt more, “Listen, I––”

“Why aren’t you wearing your necklace?”

Another direct question that left you speechless.  You slowly brought your hand up to your chest, fingers resting just beneath your collarbone, where your necklace had taken up a home everyday since Shawn gave it to you four years ago.

“I forgot––I forgot to put it on this morning.”

“I know you sleep with it on,” Shawn’s voice was monotone as he deflected your excuses and shot you another direct question, “Why’d you take it off?”

A flashback of you ripping the necklace off your skin and throwing it across your bathroom as tears heavily flowed down your face flashed through your mind.  The sound it made as it hit the tile floor echoing in your thoughts.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress the heartbreak you felt on that night down, “You’re delusional, if you’re so sure I sleep with it on––”

“Y/n,” his voice was dangerously low, “Why did you take the necklace off.”

His jaw was clenched to hold back his rage of anger.  And your jaw was clenched to hold back your waterfall of tears.

“Because I did,” you scoffed at Shawn, sending him a glare, as you walked past him, “It’s just a necklace.”

It’s more than a necklace, the rational part of your mind whispered, both of you know that it’s so much more than just a necklace.

The irrational part of your brain stayed mute.

Before you could successfully make it down the hallway, Shawn circled a hand around your wrist, “Don’t feed me that bull––”

You were fed up with him.  You were fed up with his teasing touches, fed up with the caring words he whispered to you in secret, fed up with how he thought he knew you better than anyone else.  Because if he really knew you––knew how your heart beat faster just for him––then you wouldn’t be in this position.

You ripped your wrist out of his hold and spun around, “Shawn, I love you!”

Your tone was scathing, but at the same time it was a cry for help.  And the only person who would be able to offer you assistance was frozen to the ground, lips slightly parted, but his eyes stayed the same.  You expected his eyes to be wide in shock, you expected him to be thrown off by your statement, but he didn’t seem fazed.

“I––I’ve loved you for so long and I can’t––Everything just hurts,” your voice cracked at the end of your sentence, as your eyes maintained contact with the boy who you would give everything up for, “You act like you know me, but if you really did, then you’d know how much my heart is breaking whenever I’m around you.”

You already knew that he didn’t love back, you had already gone through this heartbreak, but seeing him trying to figure out the words that would no doubt ruin your friendship, it was as if your first heartbreak felt like a little scrape on the knee.

He brought both hands up to rub his face, taking in a deep breath, as he looked up toward the ceiling, “Y/n,” his voice was strained, but not in the way you felt your throat closing up from the threat of tears, he was holding back resentment, “That––Can’t––You don’t love me––Not––Not like…That.”

Without any remorse, it was as if he had ripped your heart apart like you were just a piece of scrap paper with lyrics he didn’t think were good enough.  Not good enough, your mind echoed, you’re not good enough for him.

He had already witnessed you confiding your deepest secret to him.  And you didn’t think he deserved to witness the aftermath of your world crumbling.

You understood what the collapse of the Roman Empire must’ve felt like.

Tears were already falling fast down your cheeks, and you spun around, not bothering to say anything else to him because he didn’t warrant any more of your words after he so carelessly threw away your confession.

You made it to his kitchen when you heard his pleading voice, “Wait––” And when you felt the fire of his skin on your skin, it was a pain you never wanted to experience again.

Before he could enclose his hand around your wrist for a third time today, you snatched your arm away, cradling your wrist into your chest like you were trying to heal a wound.  You had an internal wound that you didn’t think would go away any time soon.

“If you can’t––If you don’t want to be with me,” You choked out a sob as you stared into his brown eyes; it was the first time you saw genuine heartbreak in his eyes.  And part of you was glad that he was experiencing a fraction of the pain he put you through over the past five days, “I can’t…we can’t be friends.”

His exasperated exterior fell just as fast as his face, “Don’t say that,” he took a few steps forward and reached out a hand, but stopped it mid-way and left it hanging in the air, knowing you would push him away again, “You don’t mean that––”

“I––Shawn, I can’t––” your voice was high-pitched as your bottom lip quivered, the reality of the situation becoming all too real for the both of you, “It’s been so hard these past few years––”

“Years?”

You ignored his question as another one of your secrets slipped past your trembling lips, “It’s just too––too hard right now,” you hiccuped, “I need–sp––space.”

“But I––I just got you back––You’re my best friend.  I don’t want space from you.”

You did your best to ignore the tears welling up in the corner of his eyes as you tasted your own salty tears as you spoke, “You have Brian––”

“Don’t,” his voice was rigid as the first of his tears fell from his eyes.  He harshly brushed the top of his palm across his cheek to rid himself of his falling tears.  But the more he kept wiping away his tears, more fell from his eyes, “You know that our friendship is different than what we have with anyone else.”

“Exactly!” You threw your hands up in the air, letting out a humorless laugh, “It’s different because we’re different!  We’re different around each other because there’s something more between us––”

“We’re just friends!” Shawn raised his voice over yours.  

It was silent after that as you tried to keep your sniffles to a minimum, gulping your emotions down your cracked throat.  You had made your feelings about him clear.  And he had made his feelings about you clear; friends.  Just friends.

“What,” he smacked his lips together, his next question coming out in a whisper, “What did I do wrong to make you think of me––of us––to be more than friends?”

What did he not do? That was the real question that had been floating around your head for years.  How could you not fall in love with the cadence of his voice?  How could you resist the invisible pull you felt toward him that only grew stronger since the first time you said hello?  How could you refuse to let yourself fall in love for someone you were so sure was made for you?

You offered him the best smile you could through your tears, “You did…Nothing wrong,” you let out a whisper of a laugh as you stared into his eyes that were once so comforting.  His eyes used to bring you so much joy, but now they held with just as much heartbreak as yours, “You were just…Yourself.”

“But you––Why tell me this––Why are you destroying our friendship when you already knew I didn’t love you back?”

“I didn’t want to tell you––Wait,” you had felt your heart stop for the boy in front of you a million times.  Your heart had stopped for him when he gave you your star sign constellation as a necklace for a present.  Your heart had stopped for him when he pointed at you when he was performing on stage.  

But never had it stopped for this long as you awaited his answer, “How did you know that I knew?”

Shawn’s red eyes grew wide, not expecting for his little secret to slip out.  He tried stammering out an excuse through his tears, but just like he had deflected your excuses about not wearing your necklace, you weren’t putting up with him.  You had an inclination as to how he knew that you knew he didn’t feel the same way about you.  But you were praying that you were wrong.

God, you hoped you were wrong.

“Shawn,” your voice cracked as you looked at him, he was shaking his head as if begging you not to ask your next question, “How did you know?”

“Y/n––”

“How.”

Shawn let out a breath so shaky that you felt yourself lose balance, “At the party, five days ago…” his eyes were begging you to have him stop his explanation, but you shook your head, wanting him to twist the knife he had already plunged so deep into your heart.

“The bathroom door was open and––and I saw you form the corner of my eye and when Brian asked me about you––I thought if you heard I didn’t love you, instead of me saying it to you, that we could go back to being normal.”

He knew you were listening.  He knew you weren’t okay when he asked you so delicately, so full of obliviousness, as you cut yourself with shards of broken glass.  And he knowingly left you in the kitchen after he knew he had broken your heart.  

Turns out, he did know you just as well as you thought.

“You…You knew I was listening?”

The nod of his head was the final hit.  It felt as if a hawk had swooped into your heart, talons digging in deep, thrashing until they successfully picked your heart apart piece by piece, savoring every moment of your destruction.

You didn’t think it was possible to feel even more hurt than you did that night when you listened to him in the bathroom say so confidently that he didn’t love you.  He said it with so much conviction––I don’t love her––knowing that you were just a few feet away from him, clearly able to hear him break your heart.

His presence, one that you yearned for during every second of the day you weren’t with him, was now something that repulsed you.  

How did your supposed best friend have so little respect for you?

Without a second thought other than to get the hell out of his apartment, you dashed behind him to the living room to pick your phone up from the coffee table, haphazardly slid your sneakers on, and tucked the laces under the tongue of the shoe.  Your hands were shaking as you rushed past his standstill figure in the kitchen.

Your hand was on the doorknob, about to turn it, but his voice cut you off.

“Don’t––Y/n, I’m sorry––”

The tips of his fingers grazed your elbow, just as gently as they caressed your hair earlier, but you opened the door, jumping out into the hallway to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“Fucking––Stay away from me.”

You slammed the door on his tearstained face and ran down the hallway.  You ran to the very end, skipping the elevator as you yanked the door to the stairs open.  Your palms were sweating, heart beating out of control, as you raced down the stairs out of breath.  Shawn had made you feel all those things before, but never had you felt them in such a turmoil of pain, you had previously only felt them out of the nervousness of love for him.

You made it to the lobby, praying that Shawn hadn’t taken the elevator down to stop you from leaving.  When you saw that the coast was clear, you avoided eye contact with the doorman, as you quickly walked past him.

“Y/n?”

You whipped your head around, eyes wide, as you saw Brian stood a few feet away from you with a concerned look on his face.  

His eyes started at your face, taking in your splotchy appearance, then his eyes darted to your shaky hands, and then back up to your red eyes, where tears were still falling.

He looked at you with a regretful smile, “You told him?”

You sniffed back the tears and brought your forearm to wipe under your nose, “I don’t––Told him what?”

He gave you a pointed stare, you had never confided in Brian about your feelings for Shawn, but you always had a feeling that he knew something.

“Did he tell you?”

You screwed your eyes tight wanting to erase everything you had heard in the last hour.  

When you opened your eyes, Brian’s mournful stare was still on you, “He told me a lot of things.”  He perked up at that piece of information.  There was a glint of glee in his eyes, but it was soon replaced with confusion as you said your next sentence, “Keep him from coming after me.”

“What do you––”

The ding of the elevator and a desperate shout of a voice that had just destroyed your heart called out your name, cut him off, “Y/n!”

Your body went into fight or flight mode, and you chose flight as your petrified body sprinted out the glass door of his building.

And just like the night after the party, you walked home from Shawn’s place to your apartment, arms hugging your stomach for some sort of comfort, tears clouding your vision.  You miserably failed to keep your cries at bay as you publicly showcased your heartbreak as gray clouds rolled in and thunder boomed from the distance.

-----

TAG LIST 

@fallinallincurls @adelaidestreets @alina--jpeg @5-seconds-of-mendes @particularnarry @now-that-i-saw-u

[jjmaybanksblog]

Heather

Based on Heather by Conan Gray

Word count- 2126

Warnings: insecurities, angst towards the end, some body dysmorphia

Y/n: your name

Y/n/n: your nickname

Y/f/b: your favorite band

"I still remember, third of December me in your sweater."

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, pulling the long sleeves around your fists, clenching the fabric in your hands. JJ walked up behind you, easily wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his body.

JJ grinned at your reflection, chuckling as he saw your face glow a light pink. He released you and plopped himself on his bed. "I've been saving up all year to buy you something for Christmas." He brought up, sending the butterflies on a rampage in your stomach.

"JJ I told you you don't need to get me anything."

You said it looked better on me, than it did you. Only if you knew how much I liked you.

JJ slapped the spot next to him, waiting for you to join him. You shuffled over to him and laid next to him, him arm resting underneath the crook of your neck, his finger tips playing with the ends of your hair.

"You know you look really cute in my sweater. It looks way better on you than me." He complimented you, making your heartbeat start to speed up. "Shut up." You easily got flustered at his kindness.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you relaxed into his touch. You have known JJ since kindergarten and have been best friends ever since you shared your animal crackers with him.

As years went by, you began to develop feelings for your fellow Pogue. It would start with you blushing whenever he complimented you. Then your heart would race whenever he would hold your hand or hug you. To staring at his lips wondering what they would feel like against yours.

But I watch your eyes, as she walks by. What a sight for sore eyes brighter than a blue sky. She's got you mesmerized, while I die.

Y/n enjoyed the free food Mr. Carrara gave out to the Pogues after Kie had begged him. No one had actually eaten an actual meal in the last week. You and JJ were currently throwing French fries into each others mouths, horribly missing.

JJ loaded a fry in his fingers about to throw it, only to catch the eyes of a beautiful girl who walked by them. His jaw just barely fell open, his eyes following the girl as she walked by. You turned around to see what he was looking at, only to feel your self confidence drop down about 50 levels.

"Wow." He whispered to himself. "Yeah... wow." You repeated, fiddling with your fingers. "I'll be right back y/n/n." And with that JJ got up, leaving you with the rest of your friends.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty. You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester, but you like her better. Wish I were Heather

You and the Pogues decided to get together at John B's Chateau to just hang out. You were helping Pope set up the snacks in bowls and plates. Kie was setting up blankets and pillows on the floor. John B was stashing the bottles of alcohol in the fridge.

Everything was going beautifully until JJ walked into the house with the brunette girl under his arm. For a moment your heart stopped as you took in the sight of her wearing his sweater you wore earlier that day. "Guys, this is Heather. Heather this is John B, Kiara, Pope, and Y/N." JJ pointed out his friends to the new girl.

Heather grinned brightly, saying hello to everyone. The group collectively welcomed her, Kie's eyes quickly looking at you. "Excuse me, Pope." You flashed a fake grin before walking into the bathroom.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your finger tips lightly skimming the features on your face. Running you hands through your hair, you remembered the image of the girl in your head. You compared yourself to her in everyway you could.

You noticed how big of a thigh gap she had, and how you didn't have one. How she had a waistline that one could be jealous of. You looked at your stomach, and although it was flat, your mind pictured fat rolls hanging out.

A soft knock drew you out of your thoughts. Without even realizing it, you were crying. You opened the door to see Kie with a concerned look on her face. "Oh baby." She mumbled, entering the bathroom, opening her arms to give you a hug. She was the first person you talked to when you realized you caught feelings for your best friend.

"I have no right to be jealous, Kie. I shouldn't feel like this, but I do and I hate it." You sobbed into her chest, hating yourself to getting to attached to him.

Watch as she stands with, her holding your hand. Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder.

Kie stood with you in the bathroom, helping you calm down before walking back out to the rest of the group. "Everything good?" John B asked, knowing that it wasn't by the sight of your red nose.

"Yeah, yeah Kie was just helping me with something." You lied, grabbing a beer, then sitting in a chair. You crossed your legs, swirling your drink in your hand. Taking a swig of the alcohol you locked your sight on the new couple.

Your harsh glare softened as you saw just how big JJ's smile was. You watched as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, intertwining their fingers together. Heather rested he head on his chest, JJ pecking her forehead.

Your heart clenched, tucking your body further into your sweatshirt, ignoring the cold breeze that shuffled through the air.

But how could I hate her? She's such an angel, but then again, kinda wish she were dead.

You stood up from your chair, walking past the couple and into the kitchen. You grabbed another beer, turning around only to bump into Heather.

"I am so sorry!" You quickly apologized, glad that your drink still had the cap on. "Oh my God, no it's okay!" She took a look at you, your insecurities starting to feel very visible. "This is totally random but you're literally so pretty! And I love your sweatshirt!" She complimented you, your eyes looking at your y/f/b sweatshirt.

"Oh thank you! I've loved this band since JJ introduced me to them." Heather grinned, her cheeks instantly turning pink at the sound of his name. "We should definitely hang out one day and listen to them together." She offered the idea. "Yeah! Yeah of course." You lied, handing her the drink she wanted.

You excused yourself outside, telling John B your mother had called you and you had to talk to her. You walked out into the cold, walking over to the hammock where you and JJ shared your first kiss.

It was freshman year of high school, the night of the homecoming dance. A boy named Kevin Richards asked you to be his date to the dance. You had gotten ready at John B's house since your house was being redone after a hurricane struck the OBX.

Dressed in a maroon silk dress with matching high heels, you waited for the boy to show up. All your friends asking if you wanted them to wait with you. You quickly shook your head, shooting them off to the dance.

Looking at the clock, 5 minutes turned into 10, 10 turned to 20, and 20 turned into an hour. You felt defeated, embarrassed, hurt, annoyed, and sad. Taking the heels off, you let out an angry shriek, throwing the heels out the door and into the backyard.

Meanwhile JJ was in his room, his ears perking up at the sound. Checking the clock, he thought you would've been at the dance by now. He walked into the living room, his eyes catching the outline of your silhouette sitting in the hammock.

He walked towards you, plopping himself in the seat next to you. "I thought you'd be at the dance by now." He said, watching you shift uncomfortably. "Kevin stood me up." You mumbled, picking the nail polish off of your finger nails.

JJ clenched his jaw in anger at your words. "It's his fucking loss. I swear I'm gonna fight him my foot is gonna go all the way up his ass. I'm so sorry, you look... you look beautiful y/n/n." You turned your head towards him to see him already looking at you.

He slowly leaned in, capturing your lips in his in a soft kiss. Your face quickly felt like it was on fire as he cupped the side of your face, stroking your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb.

You wanted to hate Heather. You wanted to despise her for being a horrible person, but in reality she was one of the sweetest people you've ever met, only frustrating you even more. You took a swig of your drink, the sound of footsteps coming up behind you.

As she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes. Brighter than a blue sky, she's got you mesmerized, while I die.

You lit a spare blunt JJ had hidden under the hammock pillow, inhaling the smoke before slowly relaxing. All you could think about was how happy he looked when he was with her. You wanted him to look at you like that, at one point you were convinced he looked at you like that.

But now things are different. And there was nothing you could do about it. You couldn't tell him how you felt, knowing how shitty that would be to put pressure on him. You don't want him to think you're making him pick. You just had to deal with it.

JJ appeared from behind you, making himself comfortable as he sat down next to you. "Why aren't you in there?" He asked, taking the blunt from your hand. "I got a call from my mom but then she just stressed me out so..." you lied, pointing to the weed.

He nodded his head, "so what do you think of Heather?" Your eyes widened as his sudden question. You bit your lip, holding in what you really wanted to say. "I think she's really lucky to have a guy like you. It's nice seeing you this happy" You smiled softly.

JJ pulled you into a tight hug, holding the blunt away from your hair. "You're the best." He grinned, pulling away. He handed you the blunt back, giving you a peck on your forehead before walking away.

Only he didn't walk all the way back inside. He could tell you were lying he knows you like the back of his hand. He could see your broken spirit through your eyes. He bit his tongue as he walked towards you again.

"You don't like her." He accused as he stood in front of you. You furrowed your eyebrows, coughing on the smoke. "I do, though."

"Then why do you look like you're about to cry? Hmm? Why did you disappear with Kie after I introduced her to you guys?" He asked, pacing back and forth.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty. You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester, but you like her better. I wish I were Heather.

"I don't know what you expect me to say." You mumbled, standing up to face him. "The truth!" He raised his voice.

"You tell me the truth! Why did you kiss me the night of homecoming?" You yelled back, your arms crossing across your chest. He wrinkled his eyebrows together, "what?"

"Did you pity me? Did you feel guilty that I got stood up? Did you like me? Or did you just want to take my mind off things?" You integrated him. "What does that have to do with anything?" JJ was street smart, but sometimes completely oblivious.

"Because I don't understand why you would ever kiss me!" You started, JJ's stare immediately softening. "I'm not even half as pretty as Heather. She's... she's flawless. She has such a kind and good heart. And I hate that. I want to hate her but I can't." You admitted, biting your tongue.

"And seeing her walk in with the sweater I was wearing earlier today just felt like I was bitch slapped by the harsh truth. All I could think was, 'god, I wish I were Heather right now."

"It's just polyester y/n/n." His voice softened, stepping towards you. You instinctively backed away from him. "But you like her better..." you trailed off. He felt his heart shatter, watching and listening you admit these feelings.

JJ was left speechless, standing in his spot he didn't know what to say or do. "Goodnight, JJ." You mumbled before taking your alcohol and walking back inside.

Part 2 here

[chasing-classics]

About Time- Steve Rogers x Reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: angst, sadness

Summary: You and Steve were each other’s lifelines, ever since you first met all those years ago during the battle in New York and you were recruited onto the Avengers. You showed him love was still possible after Peggy. However, things drastically change when you are on opposite sides during Civil War. After the fallout you are reunited for the Battle of Wakanda during Infinity War only for the tragedy of Endgame to follow closely after. Inspired by Myra Granberg’s ‘’Bitter Heart.’’

 Suddenly you look like a stranger

A face I knew, but I must've forgotten

Emotional flicker, you were my everything

 ‘’Steve put me down,’’ you squealed, laughing as your boyfriend of nearly three years tossed you over his burly shoulder. It was extremely rare that the two of you could be like this, carefree and teasing. You were currently in your shared apartment, the typical fight for the television remote quickly escalating into a  full-blown tickle fight.

 ‘’Not a chance, doll. You accused me of sitting on the remote, now you’re gonna pay,’’ his deep laugh was something you could never tire of. That laugh was reserved only for the people who were closest to him, and you were at the top of that list. You two met when Natasha recruited you a little over three years ago, given your history as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent and your ‘’gift’’ in telekinesis. You and the super soldier were instantly drawn to each other, like your souls were previously intertwined and in sync with one another. Loving Steve came easily, it was like second nature.

 ‘’Steve what are you- NO! Nooo,’’ you shrieked as he dumped you in the bathtub that was filled with cold water. Your clothes stuck to your skin as your laugh ricocheted off the walls of the bathroom. Steve just grinned down at you, shaking off his jacket as he got in with you, clothes and all. This was the little moments you both lived for. Saving the world from corrupt gods and villainous robots was rewarding, but it was the simple moments you learned to appreciate most. You smiled up at him softly, grinning when he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

 ‘’I love you.’’

 You swam so deep into my river

Your footsteps lead everywhere I go

I never was a weeper

But I'm still holding on

  ‘’Because I’ve been competing with a ghost for the past three years!’’

 The flash of hurt across Steve’s face nearly made you back down, but the damage was already done.

 ‘’Face it, Steve. I’ll never be enough for you. If there a time machine that could take you back to her, you’d jump in it in a heartbeat,’’ the salty tears streamed down your face, washing away the dust and debris from the skirmish just moments ago. ‘’I’ll never be her,’’ your voice was quiet and defeated, cracking at the end. His silence spoke volumes as he just looked down at you, those baby blue eyes you loved to get lost in were shiny with unshed tears.

 ‘’Steve,’’ Bucky whispered, his gaze alternating between the two of you and the quickly approaching King of Wakanda alongside Nat.

 Steve opened his mouth to speak, choking on the things he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words to do so. You shook your head, still clutching the gash on your side that Bucky had unintentionally given you. Your gaze remained firm on Steve as you nodded towards Bucky, ‘’go.’’ For a split second you thought he would stay. That he’d hold you in his big, strong arms and tell you that you were going to get through this, that he’d never leave his best girl behind. That he’d tell you he loved you and you’d figure this out as a team despite your conflicting views. That belief died the second he ran into the jet, taking Bucky with him and leaving you behind. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were even holding. Your breathing became labored, the tears falling uncontrollably as you let out the most devastating, ear-piercing shriek, collapsing to your knees as the ground beneath you collapsed into a crater. You barely felt Nat wrap her arms around your shoulders as you sunk into the emptiness.

 From the jet, Steve choked on his own sobs, leaving a decently sized dent in the floor of the aircraft as he struggled to process what just unfolded. He let out a yell of frustration and despair as he tried his best to restrain himself from tearing the jet apart. He lost you. You begged him to stay, to work it out. And he had just left you behind. He left you believing you meant nothing to him, that you’d always be second-best when it came to Peggy. He left without tell you he loved you. He sucked in a shaky breath, feeling Bucky’s hand on his shoulder to offer the slightest bit of comfort as he drifted further and further away from you, leaving a large piece of him behind at that airport.

 We know we could've done it better

Fought for the little things that we wanted

I know we were so good together

It's too hard to let go

 The years following Steve going MIA were not kind to you, but you managed to adjust to not having him in your life. You didn’t consider this living; this was merely not dying. You left your superhero days behind you as the team broke up, opting for the frequent check-in from Nat and Tony from time-to-time. You moved out of your apartment that you had shared with Steve, relocating to Tony’s summer cabin. It wasn’t until you received an urgent call from Natasha saying that she needed you in Edinburgh asap. She mentioned something about Wanda and Vision needing to be brought back home. Had it been anyone else you would’ve politely declined, but she had always been like a sister to you and the one constant in your life. She had been the one to pull you out of your depression and pushed you to keep moving forward.

 ‘’I’ll be there by tonight,’’ you sighed, already pulling out your suit from the ‘’glory days.’’

 By the time you exited the jet, you had very little time to wrap your head around the situation. One minute you were going over frantic missed calls from Pepper, the next you saw news reports that stated Earth was under attack and Tony was missing. And now you were currently face-to-face with a ghost.

 ‘’Hi, doll,’’ Steve offered a small, sad smile.

 You stood there like a deer in the headlights, anger bubbling inside of you despite the tears coating your lower lashes. ‘’You have some nerve, Rogers,’’ you scoffed, approaching him from the other side of the now vacant train station. You hated how good he looked. You hated that he took your advice on growing out his facial hair after the two of you split up. You hated that he left you and still had the nerve to act as if he didn’t rip your heart out years ago. You absolutely hated that you were still in love with him.

 ‘’I can’t believe you right now. You have no idea what you put me through. The kind of pain you put me through. And now you’re standing here with those big stupid baby blue eyes thinking I’m-,’’ you were silenced when he encompassed your face with his strong hands, his lips crashing against you in a kiss that sent you into a whirlwind of nostalgia. After a moment of hesitation, you slowly rested your hands on his cheeks and kissed back, the world literally fading away. He slowly pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours.

 ‘’You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.’’

   Oh, I wish that you hadn't pulled the trigger

Shot me down with my bitter heart

My blood is getting thicker

Oh, you shot me down, you shot me down

  ‘’S-Steve?’’ the air left your lungs when your e/c met his. You staggered to your knees, your lungs suddenly feeling like they were on fire. You could vaguely see Steve sprint towards you, his hands still coated in the ashes Bucky left behind just seconds ago. He held you in his arms, just like he used to and you curled into his embrace, hands gripping his biceps. Tears rolled down your cheeks, whether they were yours’ or his you could no longer tell.

 ‘’No, no. Oh God, no,’’ he cried out, holding you to his chest as his sobs racked through his body.

 ‘’I-I’m s-so sorry,’’ you whimpered.

 ‘’You’re going to be fine, baby. Please just hold on,’’ he shook, eyes purposefully not looking at the way your legs were fading into ash. You offered one last smile to him, lifting your hand to caress the side of his face one last time.

 ‘’I love. . .’’

 Steve’s arms fell into his lap and the cries that erupted from him were sounds that no human-being thought possible.

 Oh baby, look at me just one more time

Tell me that you don't regret it

I really thought we were fine

Then you shot me down

 Steve looked down at his broken shield, every inch of his body was screaming in pain, for him to give up. But as he looked into the mad Titan’s eyes he was filled with undying resolve, his only thought being of you. If it hadn’t worked, if this had all been for nothing then at the very least he was going to die with thoughts of you surrounding him.

 ‘’Cap. On your left.’’

 He felt you before he saw you, your presence giving off waves of warmth and comfort that he hadn’t experienced since the snap. Once he turned around, all he saw was you. You beamed at him, both of your resisting the urge to run to each other as you calmly took your place beside him along with Bucky and Sam. You both turned your attention to Thanos and his army, getting ready for the fight of your lives.

 ‘’If we live through this,’’ he began as he gripped Mjolnir , you raising your eyebrow in question. ‘’Will you marry me?’’

 Oh baby, look at me just one more time

Tell me that you don't regret it

 You watched with glossy eyes as Pepper held her daughter, slowly making her way to the lake. There was not a single dry eye amongst you mourners. You shakily exhaled as the service continued, memories of Nat and Tony orbiting your mind. You felt Steve wrap his arm around you, filling you with some comfort despite the immense pain. You leaned into his embrace, a sad smile on both of your faces as you mourned the loss of your family. The water on the lake shining as the sun peeked behind the clouds, a profound promise of what was to come.

 After the service you stood by Bucky and Sam as Steve was given the instructions on how to place the infinity stones back in their designated locations. You felt uneasy, wondering if Steve would leave you a second time. He had his chance, his one chance to get his happily ever after with his first love. Nonetheless, you offered an encouraging smile, despite the feeling that this was going to be the final time you’d see your Steve. You nodded slowly, your own little way of saying it’s ok. It wasn’t until after he vanished that you released your gasp, your heart heavy in your chest. ‘I knew it,’ you ruefully thought to yourself, turning away and wondering how you’d manage to survive his absence this time without Tony and Nat there to be your anchor.

 ‘’Y/n,’’ Bucky whispered, his eyes looking past you. Your brows furrowed as you turned around, eyes widening at the sight of Steve on one knee, holding a diamond ring.

 ‘’Steve what are-,’’

 ‘’It’s my mom’s ring. I had to get it. I wasn’t going to do this if I couldn’t do it right. You told me a long time ago that if I had the chance to get in a time machine, I’d choose differently. Well, I’m showing you that in a billion lifetimes, in a billion different situations, I’d always find a way to you and I’d always choose you. And I’ll keep choosing you for the rest of our lives. I love you, doll. And after everything we’ve been through, it’s time we get our happy ever after. So, y/n y/l/n, will you marry me?’’

 ‘’I-It’s about time, Captain,’’ you joked through your tears of absolute happiness, kneeling to the ground and tackling him in your embrace. The two of you laughing, the very same laugh that he had made all those years ago in your apartment before he through you in the tub, the same laugh that was still to the day only reserved for you. The one that would always be meant for you, Mrs. y/n Rogers.

[zacc-attacc]

Firstly - I really love good puns, so your username made my day xD

Then, for your request thing - would you maybe write a Sprace OneShot that plays in the canon era? Maybe some sort of friends-to-lovers thing?

Thanks :)

First of all, thank you for the request! And for the compliment, of course.

ANYWAYS, HISTORICAL SPRACE, HERE WE GO BABS.

Sweet-Talker- A Historical Sprace Fic

Word Count: 2k

I wasn’t supposed to fall in love. Period. Especially with a boy. I was Spot Conlon, the King of Brooklyn. Not some blithering idiot who brings flowers to some idiot boy halfway across New York. I had made a pledge, not only to myself but to the others. I was responsible for them. 

So why was I falling for a stupid blond Manhattan boy with an addiction to soggy cigars?

I still remember the first time I saw him-- on a pape I was selling to a regular buyer. It was just a black and white picture, which hardly did any justice to how handsome he was in color. But even among 20 or so other newsboys, I felt a flutter in my stomach when I looked into his eyes. 

Disgusting, I thought as I sold the paper. Is this what the boys were talking about? Sparks flying and all that sappy shit?

If I had been smart, I would’ve sold all my papes and kept my distance from the strike. From Cigar Boy. 

Brooklyn don’t get caught up in things that ain’t our deal, I reminded myself. 

But Race, as I learned later, tends to bring out the worst in me. So I did the dumb thing. I sold all but one of my papes (I couldn’t bring myself to just… Give him away like that. For what? A penny?) and ran to Manhattan. 

Where it was a full-blown war. Pulitzer had called in dozens of goons (but, of course, couldn’t be bothered to show up himself), an army of policemen, and the only cop the newsboys truly feared-- Snyder. The only man who had succeeded in locking up the two most resilient Newsies of New York- Jack Kelly, and yours truly. 

I watched in horror as bottles were thrown, teenage boys were hit by adults, even a smaller boy who needed a crutch to walk was beaten with his own crutch. And I knew I couldn’t do the smart thing, the Brooklyn thing ever again. Not for this.

I ran to join my brethren, letting myself give in to the adrenaline of a battle. Luckily for me, most people were too lost in the chaos to notice me. 

All except for one. 

As cops ran, chasing boys as if they were prey that they would likely never catch, who other than Cigar Boy walked over to me, spitting blood out of his mouth and extending his hand for a handshake. 

“Well, well, well, to whats do we owe the pleasure of Spot Conlon of Brooklyn?” He said, giving me a tired grin. He didn’t have a cigar between his lips, but he did have one sticking out of his pocket. I shook his hand, noticing that even after he had literally been beaten up for an hour plus, his handshake was firm. 

“Okay there, Sluggo, we’ll talk when you ain’t bleeding from the head,” I said gruffly, turning and starting to walk back towards Brooklyn. If I could convince the boys, we could come back later and tell Manhattan we were joining the strike. 

“The lodge is this was,” the boy pointed to the opposite direction of where I was heading. I gave a light laugh. 

“No, no. I’s best get goin’ so you’s can patch up.” 

“There ain’t no way I’s letting you walk halfway across New York after getting beaten up,” the boy protested, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the lodge. 

“I’ve been through worse,” I protested, attempting to dislodge my arm from his grasp. 

“Well, ya’int goin’ through that again. Now c’mon. We has some bandages back at the lodge for that cut of yours,” he said, gesturing to the deep cut in my upper arm. I sighed in defeat and started walking. 

“Just so you know… This is just to make sure yous don’t pass out in the streets on the way there,” I clarified. The boy just rolled his eyes and chuckled. 

“For New York’s most feared Newsie, you sure is worried about someone you just met today.”

“I’m feared, but I an’t heartless, sweet-talker. I don’t want another life on my conscience.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. What kind of monster did he think I was? Race stopped walking. I looked up and saw a complex setup of fire escapes, rails, and a rooftop where a newsboy who could only be Jack Kelly was pacing.

“Fair enough. Well, we’s here… So I’s just gonna swing up, grab my stuff, I can meet you down here,” the boy said, grabbing onto some rungs of a fire escape and climbing up with surprising nimbleness. It was as if the battle had barely affected him. That, or he was still riding the adrenaline rush. 

“No, no. Take care of your boys. I won’t die,” I said, hearing the panic in my tone. If Jack saw me with no reinforcements, he’d start to think we were fully on board. And if Brooklyn wasn’t, and word got around that I had already fought… It wouldn’t be good. They would accuse me of being a traitor. I couldn’t risk that.

“Ey, no, that wasn’t part of our agreement!” he yelled as I walked away. I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Next time, have me shake on it, sweet-talker!” I shouted back, turning around to see his impish grin. My muscles were screaming in protest from overuse, but I had to get home before dark. 

“The name’s Racetrack Higgins!” was the last I heard before breaking into a sprint. 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

And here we are now. Strike over, prices back, nobody dead, everyone happy.

Except for me. 

Because I wasn’t supposed to fall in love, but here it came. Striding down the hill with a cigar in its mouth.

I could feel the unease in the boys beside me. We weren’t used to soloing Newsboys in our area, barely after selling hours, no less. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” I muttered to them, walking towards Race. 

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here,” I hissed, grabbing his shoulders and fake-shoving him to look like I was giving him a serious talking-to. He couldn’t know we knew each other. It had to look like we were fighting.

“Well, Conlon, I thought we’d had a moment there,” Race whisper-shouted back, shoving me as well. I lowered my voice to an even quieter tone. 

“Meet me in your alleyway after sundown.”

He looked at me, confusion on his face, but nodded numbly and ran away. 

I heaved a sigh and turned to go spin some fake tale about why he was there.

That boy is going to be the death of me.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Why’d you chase me out like that, Conlon?” Race asked, leaning against the brick wall of the Newsboy lodge. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. 

I hated it. 

“Because, Higgins, the boys don’t like strange Manhattan Newsies on our turf,” I half-spat. How stupid could he get? Didn’t he understand what was at stake here?

“You’re mad at me,” he said, his eyes flashing with realization. 

“Yeah, no shit,” I muttered, starting to pace. This was a bad idea. Why did I keep letting myself come back to him? Why was I constantly subjecting myself to the one thing I couldn’t have?

“Why? I just wanted to see you again,” he protested, walking towards me. I turned around to face him, my nose practically touching his chin.

“‘Cause we ain’t supposed to be friends. The boys see you hangin’ around Brooklyn, they’ll think yous tryin’ to prove something. And you know what they do to boys that ain’t ours? They beat ‘em up. Then, they bring them to me. And I decide if they’s gets a real pounding. But do I have a choice? No! Once they’s decides yous getting beat, my say hardly matters. If I randomly tell them to let someone go, I’m considered soft. Then we both get beat. Do you see what they’ve done to some boys? I ain’t letting that happen to you, Race! I’m not patching up your wounds because I couldn’t control-”

“Spot.,” Race cut me off. I froze. It was the first time he had used my full name. 

“What?” I asked bitterly. I noticed my eyes were burning. Why were they burning? What was this hellish sensation?

I felt something warm trickle down my face. 

Oh. My. God. I was crying. Crying! I hadn’t cried in four years! All about some idiot boy who had lovely eyes and blond hair and was empathetic and made me genuinely laugh and feel safe for the first time in years-

Race stepped forward, crushing the distance between us in one stride (damn tall people), and then… Hugged me. 

I hadn’t been really hugged in seven years, since I had made it to Brooklyn. Well, I had received bro hugs. Light ‘ey, whaddup’ hugs. But this… This was the type of hug that I hadn’t received since my parents had died. The type of hug that shields you from the outside world, that makes you feel like an atomic bomb could go off and they could protect you from it. 

It was so strange, so human. I hadn’t been treated like a real person for so long.

“It’s really like that, huh,” Race whispered, stroking my back. I felt goosebumps appear on my skin. How much feeling had I forced myself to miss out on? 

“It’s just… A lot. I mean… I’ve always known I would give my life for those boys, they’re my everything. But… I don’t know if they would for me. I don’t even know how much they truly respect me. I can’t even say if they’d respect this new rule I’ve been thinking of putting in place,” I said, not moving from my place in Race’s grasp. 

“And what would that be?” Race muttered, rocking back and forth. It was… nice. 

“No beating up on Racetrack Higgins ‘cause he deserves the world,” I said, my voice still muffled in his shirt. He chuckled. 

“I hardly deserve the world… But… Could I have you?” there was this caution in his voice, so different from the constant suave tone he took on while talking with me. But, then again, I of all people was sobbing into a boy’s chest, so this night turned out to be the night of all the unthinkable. 

“I don’t know if that’s what you really want, but… You can have me, sweet-talker,” I said, tipping up my head and meeting his lips in a kiss. 

It wasn’t sudden, or brash like most would’ve thought our first kiss would be like. No, it was slow and sweet. Because even if our relationship was loud and chaotic, we could take pieces of it as slow as we wanted. 

And now, I can say that my sweet-talkers lips are just as sweet as his words.

A/N: Thank y’all so much for reading! if you have any sort of prompts, pop on over to my asks! Love y’all! <3 

[glitteryhellhole]

Doc being Doc 1/?

In which he uses a combination of professional skills and personal experience to try and help Addy through Mack’s death, circa season 2

 Fandom: Z nation Word count: approx 1000 Warnings: Discussion of death, Doc-typical drug use Nothing NSFW but my blog is 18+ so interact at your own discretion

“I knew you’d come back to us.”

“Huh?”

Doc and Addy are on watch, sitting back to back on the roof of the car. Murphy is locked inside, although its hardly a secure location given that he could get Cassandra to rip the vehicle apart with her hands at any moment of his choosing. Addy is clutching the keys in her left hand, right resting on the z-whacker.

Doc clears his throat. “You and Mack I mean. I knew you'd come back to us, but together.”

He can almost hear her scowl. “Is this going somewhere? 'Cause I'm not in the mood.”

He smiles wryly. “Doesn't have to. No-one else gets to tell you how to grieve.”

“You should be a counsellor,” Addy retorts sarcastically, but he can tell that behind his back her stance has softened a little. And so he waits, watching the flames of the small fire- enough light to keep a lookout, but not enough to attract attention.

Eventually, Addy speaks. “It's the anger that gets you through. Sadness is like weakness, but the anger keeps you going. Fighting.”

“It was like that before.” Doc keeps his tone low so as not to wake the others. “Back in the olden days, people still felt like they had to fight to survive after someone they love died. Only difference now is that its literal.”

“I sometimes forget there was ever a before.” She sighs. The fire crackles and dies a little.

His intuition tells him that she wants to talk, so Doc asks, “What did you do?”

Addy laughs softly, humourlessly. “Community college. I was close to applying for a real college, with some sort of tech major. My little brother didn't want me to move out though.”

“College.” Doc sighs wistfully. “Those were the years. Best of my life. Well, that and when I had my boy.”

Addy stiffens. Surprise is the common reaction when he brings up his son.

“Yep. I know. Me as a father. Can you imagine it?”

“Actually I can.” She settles herself again, leaning slightly against his back.  “Is he still out there? Or did the Zs get him?”

“Neither actually.” It feels like an appropriate time to light the crumpled half-joint in his chest pocket, and he does so before continuing. “He was fourteen. Always wanted a quad bike and his Mom said nope, so naturally when he came to stay with me I said yes. I wanted to let him become a man on his own terms. He was basically dead from the moment of the crash but, well, my ex-wife took three years to be ready to turn the machine off.”

“I'm so sorry.” Addy whispers quietly.

“I didn't tell you to make you feel bad.” Doc passes the joint behind him, and she takes a hit then coughs and hurriedly hands it back. “The point is, when we lose someone, its easy to get caught up on what we could've done to save 'em. But in the end they're gone, and we can't change that, but what we can do is keep on living.”

“How old would he be now?”

Doc has to think. “Twenty five... No, twenty six maybe.”

A small jingling sound indicates that Addy is fiddling with the keys in her hand. “I couldn't wait to have kids.” She murmurs. “We never talked about it but we... maybe there could have been a life after all this.”

Doc says nothing, but rests his free hand just behind him. After a moment Addy drops the keys and puts her hand on his, then continues. “I'm not angry that he died. Or that I had to mercy him. I'm angry that he- that we- won't ever get that chance. Even if there is an afterwards, there's no happily ever after for us. All that's left is the way he looked at me as he was dying.”

A slight crack in the last word shows that she's holding back tears.

Doc squeezes her hand. “You're one hell of a woman, I'll tell you that. You're strong, and you're smart, and you don't need to be angry to keep going. It was in you all along.”

She stops trying to muffle the sobs. He doesn't offer a hug because he knows she doesn't want anyone to see her this way, so they continue to sit back to back, holding hands.

Doc thinks of all the children they've encountered on this journey, both alive and dead. The youngsters who can barely even remember what it was like before. He imagines, not for the first time, that the bike never flipped and now he has grandchildren- or had. Probably for the best that they were never born into this cruel world.

A small snuffling sound brings him back to the present. 10K is curled up by the fire, mumbling something in his sleep. Another one who never got to finish growing up.

Doc takes the last puff of his joint and flicks the butt into the fire. He kind of wishes he'd got to know more of Mack while he had the chance, but he's way too old now for what-ifs.

“We're getting this bastard to California.” Addy's voice is steel, razor-sharp. No more crying now. She takes her hand away to wipe her face. “I don't care if I have to cut off his limbs to stop him from running away. I'll rip them off with my bare hands.”

“I don't doubt it.” Doc chuckles. “There's a life after this for you. A whole new world. I can't imagine what it looks like and believe me, I have seen a lot of out-of-this-world stuff.”

Addy laughs a little too. “I don't know what it's gonna look like either. But we'll all get there. Together.”

“Maybe.” He watches the last embers of the fire begin to die away. “We'd best wake the others soon. Just uh- if I don't make it, maybe live for me a little. Do some dumb shit. Fall in love again. All that.”

Addy gets to her feet and swings the Z-whacker over her shoulder. “Deal.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #420

lol blaze it (i’m funny i swear)

In your opinion, which fast food place has the best fries? Without a doubt, Bojangle's. Good. Shit. Are there hurricanes where you live? Yeah, they're common here. What do you hate the most about yourself? I'd really rather not get into this right about now. What song are you listening to right now? "Beast of Gévaudan" by Powerwolf. What was your first concert? Alice Cooper. Also my only concert. What’s your favorite Johnny Depp movie? Alice In Wonderland. Who did you last say “I love you” to? My sister. Do you like pumpkin pie? Anything pumpkin-flavored is a hell no from me. Do you know anyone named Austin? Knew, rather. Do you know anyone who is having a baby? My friend recently announced she and her husband are having their second child in December. What was the last thing you cried about? Just PTSD. Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk? I like both, but I prefer chocolate. Do you think you are an argumentative person? Definitely not. How many deep dark secrets do you have? Two or so, idk. What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? Some wings at Buffalo Wild Wings with one of the hottest sauces. Wanted to die. ... Yet I continued to get that one whenever I went for years lmao. Who last called you sexy? I don't know. Would you class yourself as a good role model? In some ways, but in a lot of other ways, no. Are you scared of the dark? No. Do you have a motto? No. Who did you last see on webcam? The doctor that overlooks my TMS progress. Do you need a haircut? I need a trim for sure. How would you react if your mother told you that she was pregnant again? Well, considering 1.) she's way past menopause and especially 2.) she's had a complete hysterectomy, y'know... that's kind of impossible. She also hasn't been with a guy in many years, so she would have to be joking. You log into Facebook and see the red ‘1’ notification next to the message icon. Who do you want it to be? -___- Would you rather exercise alone or with other people? ALONE. You will NOT see me exercise in front of other people. What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played? The most involved is DEFINITELY World of Warcraft, and I guess you could consider it the hardest too, given some of the much more difficult things I've done in it. It itself isn't a hard game whatsoever, but you can pursue some really hard achievements. Ever watch the show Supernatural? If you have, then what’s your favorite episode? I used to love it, but just stopped watching eventually. My fave episode... Man, it's been too long to remember many. Probably one of the funnier ones. I remember I specifically liked the bit where they were in your everyday comedy show, as well as the one where I THINK Dean kept trying to prevent Sam from dying. I just remember the "Eye of the Tiger" bit that is pure gold. Ever heard of flavored honey? If so, what’s you’re favorite flavor? Oh, no, but that sounds good. Do you remember what your favorite show was when you were little? Yeah, Pokemon. Do you put anything besides cheese on grilled cheese sandwiches? Besides butter, which I think is pretty standard, no. When it comes to books, what do you think is the “perfect” amount of pages? Uh, I dunno. It depends on the book. I don't really care about page numbers. Would you ever be interested in going scuba diving? Yeah. Out of all of your friends/relatives, who would you say has the best vocabulary? Girt, probably. Are any of your fingers or toes deformed? What about the nails? I don't think so? When is the last time you cried? I was sobbing earlier today, fun stuff. Would you ever date somebody that has been divorced more than once? Most likely not. ESPECIALLY at my age. What are some stereotypically nerdy things that you like? Oh god. WoW, M:tG, big glasses, anime (does that count? idk really), video games... a lot of stuff, really. Have you ever attended a wedding that ended where the bride and groom didn’t actually get married? What happened? Y I K E S, no. That would be SO uncomf. What scares you the most about becoming a mother (hypothetically, if you don’t want to have children)? Actually raising it properly, physically and emotionally. Would you ever want a job in fashion? What would you enjoy about that type of job? No. Would you ever be a surrogate mother? No. What do you think would be the best and worst parts about being a twin? It'd be cool to have someone you feel an almost supernatural connection towards, but I'd also feel like I wasn't as "original" as I would be if I was born alone. Do you feel that your childhood was more rough compared to others around you? I mean it wasn't awful at all, but sure, in some ways compared to at least someone. How would you react if you found out today that you were actually adopted? Well today I'm a wreck, so don't tell me. I want to know that I wasn't lied to for 25 years. Have either of your parents ever cheated on one another before, that you know of? How would you react if you found out today that one of them cheated? I'm not entirely clear on this, but I'm 90% sure Dad cheated on Mom with his now-wife. Dad also accused Mom of cheating, but I HIGHLY doubt that's true. Do you like cleaning and organizing? Not really. How would you react if you found out you were infertile? If you don’t plan on having kids to begin with, what is a long-term goal you’d be crushed to find out was impossible to achieve? Fuck having kids. I'd be a terrible mother. So to answer the other question, I'll be pretty, pretty sad if I can't get permission to spread Teddy's ashes at Yellowstone. Would you take your dream job if it were out of the country? Well, obviously not considering my dream job is a meerkat biologist, and I'm not moving to Africa. Have you ever been robbed? No. Is anyone close to you an alcoholic? Not anymore. Dad was, but he's recovered. Have you ever dumped anyone? Yes. What kind of tea do you drink? I hate tea. Do you know anyone in a gang? No, and I hope I never do. What’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you? Risk his fucking sanity and health to try to hold my fucked up self up. What is your orientation? Gay? Straight? Metrosexual? Anything other? Bisexual. I've kinda been questioning pansexual of the late, though. I don't know. Have you ever done anything really dangerous or illegal with friends? Not to my memory. Name three feelings you’re feeling right now: Regret. Hopelessness. Loneliness. And the reasons for these feelings? Take a wild fuckin' guess. How do you feel about your life right now? It's an actual dumpster fire. Is it easy for you to like yourself? Why or why not? Fuck no. Because there's just not very much TO like about me. Even on my good days, I see flaw after flaw in myself. What subjects come naturally to you? English, some aspects of science. What subjects do not? Math, economics, politics, history... Do you read more fiction or more non-fiction books? Definitely fiction. When I read a book, I want an escape from the real world. How has today been for you? BOY HOWDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What did you do? Went to TMS therapy. Sat on the Internet. Cried. :^) Are there any candles lit in the room you’re in? No. Are there any lava lamps near you? No. I want one, though. Do you like cats or dogs better? Cats. Are any of your friends a pothead? Yes. What’s a goal you’re trying to accomplish soon? Start losing weight again. That'd be pretty goddamn grand. Are you a high maintenance person? Definitely not. The last time you yelled as loud as you could, what was the reason? I was having a nightmare. Have you ever been heartbroken? For sure. Who did that to you? First Dad, then Jason. Did you go through an ugly stage as a kid? Boy, did I. The last type of sandwich you made or ate: A pb&j. The last time you spent most of the day in bed: Literally every day. I do just about everything in bed. Pathetic, I know. The last friend or acquaintance you made: Ummmm idk. The last thing you took pictures of: A hydrangea bush. The last time you were scared: Now. The future is terrifying, my friend. The last thing you looked up online: The definition of a word to ensure I was using it correctly. The last thing you disagreed with: So I've been watching John Wolfe's old stream of him playing Alice: Madness Returns, and he went on a total soapbox about smoking being okay essentially because we're all gonna die eventually from something, and I really disagreed with it. Does your house have a separate laundry room? No, just like a closet. Do your parents still help you financially? I'm still entirely dependent on them. Does your car have a backup camera? No. Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? Not to my knowledge. Have you ever had a pet that lived to be really old for its breed/species? REALLY old, no. Teddy was definitely up there, but beagles have lived longer. What was the last strong scent you smelled? Lysol. Have you ever told someone to their face that they were ugly? Christ, no. Is your bed against more than one of your walls? No. Have you ever been attracted to someone’s parent? Don't think so? Have you ever pole danced before? No. Have you ever broken into someone’s house? No. Have you ever seen a live bat? Yes. What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? I dunno. Have you ever taken a woodshop class? No. How much time do you spend on Facebook, if you have one? Funny you ask, because as of today I decided to take a break from it for awhile. I've found it's nothing more than a breeding ground for envy and making me feel like a horribly incompetent adult. Has a teacher ever made you hate yourself/your work? I had one photography teacher in college that I was NOT a fan of. He was super, super hard on everyone, like to an unnecessary degree. We were students, not pros. Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? No. Are your parents supportive of you? Somehow.

[zankivich]

Corona Diares pt 2: An Arrangement Sequel

a/n: Hello. Something must be in the air. OR, you’re all trapped in your houses and paying my pics more attention than when I actually wrote them lol. Either way I felt inspired to write this and would LOVE to point out that I planned this entire chapter out before the the S + C bullshit was even a thing. I quite enjoy this. I love talking about mental health. It’s so serious and so underrepresented and so poorly represented. I wanted to show a black woman dealing with it and one way, not the only way, that a partner can be supportive during that. If you like it let me know. And if you have ANY ideas for this series please please please share them with me because this was the last idea I had. K bye! 

WARNINGS: Depression, discussions of mental health, a very worried husband just wanting to love his wife

*Shawn’s point of view*

After the first month, he notices a change. When they can no longer go out to the store to shop anymore and have to get everything delivered. No more throwing random things at her to build dishes around. When she can’t go to get her hair done, or go on friendship dates with Ti. She gets a little down, not as energetic and bubbly as is her nature. Even the level of sass she seemed to whip at him with incredible comedic timing was at odds. It’s not that he’s not enough for her, it’s just that all the other parts of her life outside of him seem to dry up. There’s not much managing to do, beyond giving their artists a break. Her world domination halts when the world does. And what he’s left with is a rare and devastating vision. A depressed y/n.

At first he’s not super concerned. The whole world was turned upside down. They were witnessing history on a day-by-day basis. Who wasn’t a little sad?! At first, she just takes a little longer to get out of bed. So, he cooks them breakfast after his morning workout. But then she starts to zone out for shorter and then longer periods of time. One day he notices that for an hour during a movie, she just stares out the window. Barely blinking. Never moving. Just sat still. And then come the naps.

“Babe, I have a headache. I’m gonna go lie down for a little while, okay?” She murmured, placing her hand on his shoulder as she stood up.

He peered up at her with concern.

“Of course. You want me to make you some peppermint tea? We can watch movies in bed if you want. I’ll rub your back.”

She smiled a smile so small it barely touched her face. It was nothing like the beautiful wide-toothed grin he fell so deeply in love with.

“You’re incredible, but I think I just need to lie in the dark for a little while. I’ll feel better and then we make some fresh gnocchi for dinner.”

Her gnocchi was one of his favorites. So, of course he nodded and kissed her fingers as she slipped away. He tried his best to stay quiet the rest of the day, sticking to the other side of the house as he played guitar, or video games, or piano. As the day grew later, he went about prepping the potatoes for the gnocchi. He cleaned, scrubbed, and pierced the potatoes before placing them in the oven to bake. He even went about setting up the pans, olive oil, salt. Anything they might need. He grated the parm himself.

When the potatoes had but about ten minutes left to go, he finally made his way upstairs. Their bedroom was dark, the light outside the hallway even turned off. He flicked it on as he stepped quietly inside on raised toes. She was on her side of the bed curled up in the entirety of their comforter. Her bonnet was missing, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. He wasn’t nervous yet though, so he just assumed it had fallen off in her movement.

“Sweetheart. Hey, I went ahead and got everything prepped for dinner. I thought we could listen to some records while we cook? Maybe open a bottle of wine if you want.”

Her eyes opened. And she looked near him. But she was completely and utterly away. Like her body was a shell and she’d fallen within the depths of herself, hidden away and unwilling to come out. She took one look at him and shook her head before rolling to the otherside of the bed.

“I can’t.”

“Oh...Okay. Well how about I do the cooking, give you a little more time to rest. I’ll come get you after.”

“No Shawn I...I can’t.” She whispered.

This is where the worry started to creep in. Let’s just say he was very good at worrying.

“What is it? Is it your head still? Maybe you should take something.”

“I just...You gotta leave me alone for now, okay? I need to sleep.”

And that was where things started to shift. Because she sounded broken. Not sick, not hurt, but just absolutely broken. Like she might cry if he asked her again, might completely break down and never come back to herself. The most surprising piece of this new territory that he found himself in was that...she didn’t want him near. In a relationship where every pain, every fear, every insecurity thus far had been comforted, if not cured, by the presence of the other, for the first time in his marriage, his wife wanted to be away from him in the midst of her sadness. This was a phenomena he knew nothing about how to manage

He goes back to the kitchen and busies  his hands with gnocchi, in part because he had nothing better to do, and in part because he thought he might freak out if he didn’t. Silly him for thinking the concentration on the physical could do anything to silence his mental. At first he wondered if it might be the virus, and that was a terrifying thought all on its own. y/n had made it clear from the jump that their celebrity would not be an excuse for privilege in the face of death caused by oppression. They had not been tested for the virus when half the industry had without symptoms. Even in Canada where healthcare was far better, she was more concerned with donating to others. But she wasn’t exactly showing symptoms, and she didn’t really seem sick. More than anything he couldn’t shake the loneliness in her eyes. Like he could hug her for hours and it wouldn’t make a bit of difference. That wasn’t a virus. That was something else.

So as the fear of the virus hitting the love of his life ebbed, what remained in its place was a sort of terror about the unknown. And he tried to be positive, tried to imagine the next morning when she’d come bounding down the stairs singing a song beneath her breath and looking for eggs for breakfast. However, Shawn couldn’t shake the idea that his wife was experiencing something new entirely, something that she herself may have never navigated before. And he simply may have no idea how to help her out of it. He was scared shitless.

*Three Days Later*

She hasn’t left the room once. In the middle of day two he had insisted on taking her temperature. She wasn’t even ninety-eight degrees. No dry cough. No trouble breathing or wheezing or anything. She was physically fine in the technical sense. But God was she far from fine. On the third day, he was so terrified he didn’t know what to do. So, he reached for the blanket and tried to wiggle it away from her. The result was catastrophic. She just absolutely fell apart. She cried and cried and cried until her cheeks were soggy, until her eyes were red, and all she could do was stare at him in helplessness.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me?” She cried at him.

He had never seen her so quiet. So timid. So dull. It was everything that she wasn’t, and it shook him to his very core.

“Please. Y/n I love you so much. Y--You’re scaring me, sweetheart. I just want to help. You’ve been lying in bed for three days now and I’m trying to help. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll fix it okay? I need you to tell me what’s happening.”  

She shook her head and rolled onto her back, legs curled awkwardly beneath themselves. He sees a tear pool on the apple of her cheek and then spill over and down the side of the face he hadn’t kissed in days.

“Don’t you understand? You can’t fix it. They’re dying Shawn. They--they’re gonna die.”

“Who’s gonna die?”

Her face crumpled then and she covered her mouth as a sob let loose that cracked into his chest and tore open his own heart.

“All of those people. Who can’t afford to stay home from the restaurants, from the grocery stores. The people who got fired and can’t afford rent. The people without homes, without safety nets. They’re gonna die. Because we allowed them to. Because we created a system that needs their death to remain sustainable. They’re gonna die. And then we’re gonna die. And it’s all gonna be for nothing. The protesting, the political statements in interviews, the canvassing door to door. It will mean nothing under eradication.”

This wasn’t pessimism under a patriarchal, racist system. This wasn’t y/n on her soap box complaining about the white man, or teaching him about the intersections of oppression. This was something different entirely. This was like watching the love of his life suffocate. He was literally watching her worry herself into a frenzy.

“Y/n, you have to breathe. You’re not breathing.” He mumbled crawling deeper into the bed to get beside her.

She shook her head vigorously back and forth, the tears pooling into puddles on their bed.

“I can’t--I can’t see my way out of it. It’s like... it’s crushing me from above and below. Like I’m sandwiched between it. T--there’s no light. There’s nothing.”

“Okay, okay just uh--give me a second to think...Can I lie down next to you?”

She shrugged more than nodded, but he took it for what it was and crawled in next to her. His thumb wiped at her cheeks, chasing away the tears as she worked to breathe. Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession. And all he could do was reach out and place his hand slowly over her heart, his lips falling to her ear. Everything was measured, intentional, because he didn’t want to scare her anymore.

“I used to have panic attacks as a kid. Listen to the way that I breathe. Try to match it. Don’t focus on getting it right, just do your best. I’m right here, okay?” He whispered. “Your body knows how to breathe. You just have to remember.”

He took a few deep breaths, slowly in and out against her ear. Her heart was hammering, and he knew that before they addressed the existential dread, he needed to calm her heart down. He was glad that in that moment her hand wasn’t on his chest, because she might feel the way that his heart beat just as fast. He was terrified, not of her, but for her. He knew this was the “in sickness and health” part of the deal, and more than anything he just wanted to be good to her. He didn’t want to see her suffer. So despite the crippling fear of getting it wrong, of saying the wrong thing, he had to try. He’d do anything for her.

“Find something to focus on.” He offered still breathing in and out in exaggerated slowness. “I--It can be the ceiling, or anything really as long as it’s not moving. Sometimes it helps. You’re doing good. It’s gonna be okay, babe.”

At first she just flounders. Y/n was a woman good at most things with an ease and precision that could make him feel insecure at times. In this moment though she just couldn’t seem to get the hang of it no matter what she did. Every moment she didn’t succeed only seemed to ramp her heart rate up further.

When she chooses to look at him, to use him to focus, he almost cries. But instead he smiles at her. And he keeps breathing with her. And slowly, slowly, slowly, she floats back down to him. And she sort of just collapses on his chest in a mangled heap. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It’s okay.” He whispered kissing at her hair. “I’m right here, my love.”

And she falls asleep again there. With him holding her. He’d rather it be that way. He can only hopes she feels the same

***

He puts out a call on instagram and twitter. He doesn’t name names, but he asks some of his friends if they were experiencing anything like y/n, or if they knew how to help loved ones who were. The next day, he lets her stay in bed just because it breaks his heart when she cries. And also in the hope that he could do a little digging to get her some help.

He’s on an instagram live playing guitar and staring off into space with a blunt in his mouth when the chat starts going crazy.

“What’s going on guys?” He asked, reaching to scroll past the words.

He just kept seeing the words GAGA over and over again. In hindsight it may have been obvious, but he was a bit of a dumbass...and stoned.

“Gaga? What does that stand for? Is that some sort of internet slang I’m already too old to understand?”

He pulled the phone closer to his face and finally saw someone who said: No dumbass. Lady Gaga is in the chat and she wants to speak with you. Woops.

“Holy shit.”

It takes him honest to god ten minutes to figure out how to get her into the video. His fans make no qualms about laughing at him while he does it either. Eventually she’s there and it’s like the first human connection he’s had in days. And he can’t quite explain it but there’s a part of him that wants to cry.

“Hello Lady! I hear you like to be called Lady, is that okay?” He asked.

She smiled through the tiny image on the screen and gave a slight nod.

“Lady is perfectly fine. Your wife calls me Lady all the time...Actually she likes to call me lil Lady. She’s the only one who gets to call me that though.”

“Sounds like her. I’ll stick to Lady then. H--How are you doing right now? Thank you for joining me here.”

“Of course, of course. You know I saw what you posted on twitter the other day and I’ve just been thinking about it so much. I wanted to give it some genuine thougth before I responded, and then I saw you were going live, so I thought I’d give it a shot.” She explained. “It’s hard isn’t it? I’m healthy and I’m safe and I can take care of my family, so I’ve got nothing to worry about. But uh people are dying. And people don’t have the same resources we have, so I just kind of feel like a piece of shit most days. Like I gotta do something ya know?”

He takes a breath so deep it stuns him a little. His fingers still on the guitar and he just looks up at the ceiling and nods. She gets it. Maybe better than he does. Definitely better than he does.

“I do. My uh--y/n. She said the other day that it’s like we allowed it to happen. We as in society, the big ‘we’. And we did in a way. It’s in who we vote into office, who we confront about their world views, who we question and who we don’t. It kind of feels like a culmination of what a lot of us have been saying for a long time. And nobody would listen. Nobody would change. And so this is the card we’ve been dealt.” He sighed. “But you’re right. It’s not gonna be me, or you, or any of the assholes in office. I--It’s gonna be the people we were fighting alongside the whole time. The people without a fanbase, or the ability to write a check. So what the fuck do we do?”

It’s the wildest thing. He’s talking to Lady Gaga, but she’s got no make up on and she’s sitting cuddled up on her couch in glasses. And he’s at home in his studio. The only place where he makes sense. And they’re talking through the hurt together. It’s a collective hurt that seems to permeate through the screen. But at least they can wrestle with it together.

“I think we have to be willing to put ourselves on the line. We got to stand up and offer what we can, because it’ll always be more. And not like the bullshit sing a longs ya know? Like dollars, and pushing of the political agendas, and more dollars. That’s only way we get out of this, all of us, together.”

She’s kind of a genius. The way she spoke reminded him of y/n and the way she would talk sometimes. It was the kind of way of speaking that made you know she could change the world. And it only hurt his heart all the more that she was in such a space.

“Can I ask you a mental health question?”

“Oh of course?”

“I know that you’ve been open with your own experience andI guess I was just wondering… well first how you’re doing in this moment? And then I have someone close to me who’s really struggling under the weight of all of these things we’re talking about. And I don’t really know how to help them, but I really want to.”

She took him seriously which was nice and listened empathetically in a way that didn’t make him feel so alone.

“Absolutely. You know it’s--it’s hard to get out of bed some days. And some days I don’t. For me personally, channeling my energy towards finding funding and aid for people has been helpful. I’m an italian girl so I want to fix shit immediately ya know?” She giggled. “So I’m doing okay today, and I’ve learned to be happy with where I’m at, to try not to push myself towards something I don’t have. Is your loved one okay?”

He could feel the part of himself that was being pulled towards the stairs to get to her. He could still remember the whine she let out when he asked her if she wanted to shower that day. His heart hurt for her and because of her, as it belonged to her.

He shook his head softly and she frowned back at him.

“She--They haven’t gotten out of bed in four days now. N--not really eating. Cries a lot, and they’re really not a big crier. I just wanna make it better, but I guess I don’t know how.” He mumbled. “It’s hard to tell ‘em it’s gonna be better when it feels like that might never happen ya know?”

She nods and suddenly it’s like a huge therapy session for him, which only makes him feel a bit more like a piece of shit. But he’d do anything if it meant she felt better.

“Let me guess. You tried giving her space? Thought maybe she’d snap out of it?”

He gets the feeling she knows exactly who he’s talking about it and the pretenses sort of melt away.

“Yea. It’s kind of driving me crazy though. We’re not really the distance type.”

“Of course.” She smiled. “I can’t really explain what’s going on in her head. It’s different for everybody. What I can offer is only a suggestion if what’s currently happening isn’t working. Just go lie next to her. It might not be today. It might not be this week, but there are moments in and out of it--kinda like a fog? And in those moments of clarity, Shawn? There is nothing worse than finding yourself alone. I can promise you that.”

He nods, hanging onto every word that she speaks. In all honesty the genius of women had never gone unnoticed to him. It was a part of what always made him realise what an idiot his father was.

“Look, still get up. Work out. Shower. Eat. But when you can...be there. And let me know if that helps. In the meantime I think I’ve got a bit of an idea, would you mind if I sent you something?”

“Absolutely. Send away.”

The second the livestream ends he makes his way upstairs. She’s sat on his side of the bed this time, which makes him wonder what’s going on in her head. It’s clear that she’s awake, so he climbs in slowly after her. But this time he doesn’t press, doesn’t beg, doesn’t coax. He simply goes back to plucking at the strings of his guitar. And the reality is that nothing happens. He honestly doesn’t know if he helps even in the slightest. But he’s there. And that’s all that he could offer. He just hoped it was enough.

***

Day six she snuggles into his side for the entirety of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. She’s asleep, but it’s a win.

Day seven she lets him open the curtains for a while.

Day eight she asks him if they can take a bath. He gets a little overzealous. Pulls out the bubbles and the bath salts and the bath bombs. In the end, when she takes her bonnet off for the first time, her curls are flattened and stuck together. He asks if he can wash it for her. She pauses but tells him she’s afraid she won’t be able to get out of bed again to rinse out a deep condition. So they make a deal to sit in the tub long enough for the conditioner to penetrate, and then he rinses it for her. She spends a long time with her head pressed against his chest, bubbles popping into thin air against their skin.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, tears welling up again. “‘M so sorry.”

“Shhh. I love you more than life. I’d do this every day. I don’t need an apology okay?”

The bath drains her. He gets her into a robe and she crawls immediately back into bed. There’s no time to detangle her hair for her. She goes to sleep and lets her curls mat against the pillow. He doesn’t stop her.

Day nine she comes downstairs for lunch. He makes her soup. She finds an old loaf of bread and drizzles olive oil over it before broiling it. It’s the first cooking she’s done in days and he beams with pride, he’s sure of it. They get her hair detangled together. She cries at the puff of hair that comes from the comb. He holds her for a while and then helps her back up the stairs.

Day ten is a movie on the couch.

Day eleven she walks around outside with him.

It sometimes feels like the tiniest of steps, but every day seems to get a little bit better. She cries and sleeps and still seems to think herself into a frenzy, and yet he gets to see her slowly come back to herself. It’s not until two full weeks after the first incident that she finally talks to him about any of it.

He was in the bathroom shaving and she walked in on socked feet wearing one of his sweatshirts and apparently nothing else. He could still only beam at her like crazy. It was practically in his DNA to be smitten by that woman.

“Hi.” She whispered to him in the mirror.

“Hello. I like your sweatshirt by the way.”

She smiled. The first smile he’d seen in weeks. And it drove him giddy. So giddy he slipped and cut himself like an idiot.

“Ah shit.” He mumbled touching at the cut.

“Are you alright?” She asked him and reached on her toes to touch his shoulders.

He couldn’t quite explain the intimacy her touch brought. Or how starved he’d felt of the feeling. Truly the thought had never occurred to him in the past few weeks. Despite their active and frankly adventerous sex-life, a day hadn’t gone by when he thought about anything but her wellbeing. So why, oh why was he ready to fall to his knees and cry for her off the touch of a goddamn shoulder?

He nodded shakily. “Just a knick, sweetheart. You look...you seem--you know? Good today. Better than the past few days.”

“Yea I--I feel different. Good different.”

“Yea?”

She peered up at him. “Yea. But maybe I should let you finish up here. I could make us some eggs and toast maybe? I--I don’t think I’m ready for much else.”

“Eggs and toast sound great. I’ll be right down.”

“Okay.”

She nodded to herself like she needed the confirmation that she could do it before turning on her heel.

“Y/n?”

“Yea?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***

“I still don’t really know what happened. I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”

He reached for the hand not occupied with playing with her eggs and squeezed.

“Did you ever have depression or anxiety before? Maybe to a lesser degree?”

Y/n snorted. “Depression? Anxiety? In my mother’s household? I love her dearly but black mothers aren’t exactly rolling out the welcome mat to therapy. My mother had one goal, to keep a roof over my head, and she didn’t make room for much else. We didn’t have time to be sad.”

He frowned. “Darling that sounds...honestly kind of terrible.”

“Maybe. But it’s the reality I grew up in. Depression has always been a white folks thing.”

“Well last I checked depression doesn’t know color, babe. And I think the fact that you lied in bed for two weeks means that there’s something bigger at play here.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. And he knew she was back by the way that eyebrow told him every word that would come out of her mouth before she said it.

“You know you’ve gotten bolder since you married me? I don’t like it.” She whined.

He chuckled softly and reached to push her dish out of reach. She’d taken to playing with the leftover scraps so that she didn’t have to look him in the eye, but he desperately needed her attention.

“If anything I’ve only fallen more in love with you. And I just wanna understand. I wanna help. If that means getting you to understand that you, my beautiful, intelligent wife are not immune to depression and anxiety, then I’m sorry we’ll simply have to work through it. I’m only interested in what’s best for you, you know that.”

She bit her lip and squeezed his hands, intertwining their fingers across the table. Her mouth dips into a frown as she finally reflects on her emotions.

“I just kept thinking about it. I mean constantly. I--I couldn’t stop. And it...made me sadder than I’ve ever been in my life.” She whispered. “Even now I’m imagining bodies. When I close my eyes that’s what I see. And I don’t know their names, I don’t know their faces, but I can feel their pain. And it is absolutely insufferable. It’s like this big, huge brick. And I can’t move it. I can’t get rid of it. It’s just there. All the fucking time.”

“That sounds terrifying baby.” He sighed holding onto her tighter. “I--I’m so sorry that you’re feeling this way.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do? See a therapist in the middle of a pandemic? Whine about my sadness while we live in a mansion and fucking cook all day while healthcare frontliners are pulling twenty-four hour shifts, and people can’t afford their bills? I don’t do this, Shawn. This isn’t me.” She sniffled.

He let go of her hands and wiped at her tears instead. This felt like a moment best spent with her cheeks in his palms anyway.

“Hey, having money doesn’t mean you don’t get to feel. In fact I think you’re the person who taught me that. What you’re feeling right now is nothing less than a product of your empathy and your willingness to care for people you’ve never even met. You need to be fucking kinder to yourself, do you hear me? It’s my wife you’re talking about.” He smiled. “We’ll get you whatever you need. But we will get it, and you don’t need to feel bad about that. I promised you the world didn’t I?”

She sighed and took a deep breath to calm herself, always feeling quite silly when he held her face that way. It’s why he did it.

“I do remember something to that effect.” she said dryly.

“Good. Now perhaps I could kiss you? It’s been quite a while for me.”

“It has...You may proceed.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” He chuckled and kissed her silly at the dining room table. “Hey I think I have an idea to balance how you’re feeling and still get you the help that you need.”

“Oh god. Every time you have an idea it always ends up with me having a damn heart attack.”

“I’ll keep the paddles near by.”

“Not funny!”

***

*y/n’s point of view*

Leave it to Lady Gaga to try and save the world. And leave it to her to reach out to Shawn and ask for your help when you couldn’t get out of bed. Women really do it all.

She called on a Sunday. She said she was sick of the instalives and the donation swipe up buttons and the rally cries that we were all in the same boat. She wanted to use her privilege, her money, and her big ass mouth to really get some change made. But she couldn’t do it alone. She had three people helping her thus far and they’d raised twenty million already. But, the reality was that the pandemic was disproportionately impacting black and brown bodies. If the thought of the pain and the death was really getting to you, this was essentially your shot to make some good out of it.

So, you went all out. Tyler Perry gave ten million up front. Normani donated five hundred thousand. Michael B. Jordan gave a million. Chadwick added two. Oprah heard Tyler gave ten so she gave fifteen. The messaging was simple. Our people are hurting, it’s our responsibility to help the very communities that no one else will. Besides, Shawn and you were putting up another ten million yourselves. Excuses were minimal.

Every one of your artists joined in on the One World: Together at Home, including the big man himself with the piano you bought him for your anniversary. It really was an amazing experience. That didn’t mean you were fixed though. Usually work in the midst of anything going on in your life was your MO, but you couldn’t manage to kick this one. There were still days where you just needed to sleep and sleep and try to forget the world was in turmoil. And the hardest part is seeing him lean over to your side of the best and whisper in your ear asking if there was anything he could do. There was so rarely anything he could do.

There’s a therapist. Black. Female. Located in Toronto but she was raised in Alabama. Shawn finds her when you don’t get out of bed again. It’s the most stern your husband had ever been with you, and even that was full of devastatingly warm gooiness.

“You need to talk to someone. And I understand that it can’t be me. I understand it needs to be someone who gets it and who can connect with you in all the ways that you’re hurting right now. So we’ll set up the zoom calls on the tv in your office, you can close the door; we never even have to talk about what goes on during your sessions. But, baby I...I can’t watch you just be in pain like this. Not anymore, okay? So you’re going to therapy dammit, do you hear me?”

And that’s the story of how you got a therapist for the first time in your life. Men. So dramatic.

***

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[sir-silly]

The Last War fan review

So, our beloved show has ended. And while I wish things would have gone differently, I did cry with relief when Clarke looked over and saw everyone already waiting for her.

Anyway, I wanted to share some of my thoughts on the finale.

1) Going right into the title sequence kind of shocked me. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but I was just immediately like “oh.” It was a bitch-slap in the face that they left a gap in the credits for Bob Morley. Why you gotta do us like that?

2) Murphy screaming “come on” while they used the defibrillator on Emori was heartbreaking. And his little whispered encouragements were so freaking cute.

3) Clarke rampage? Yes, please! I love me a badass woman. However, unlimited ammo is a sin in writing. The moment Octavia picked up the sword was a big “oh yes.”

4) Did Cadogan not care about his son like at all? Lmao. Why is he so hung up on Callie and not his other kid (who I can’t even remember the name of). I don’t care if they explain in the prequel, that’s still a shitty parent choosing favorites. Along with his wife, like, was she not his greatest love? It was Callie? Kinda fucked up.

5) Why the fuck could Jordan figure out it was a test and not a war in 5 seconds when the Disciples were studying that shit for decades? I know he’s Monty’s son, but he’s not a genius or anything.

6) Thoughts on the test: I think Cadogan would have failed and the human race would be destroyed. Why bother asking questions if you already know all the answers?

7) Why wasn’t Gaia in the finale like at all?? Like, what the fuck. She was hunting??? For what?? That really annoyed me because I’ve grown to really like her and there was no point in her not being involved in the last episode. They seriously couldn’t have thrown her in there? Like, come on! Even Niylah was there! (not saying that I don’t like her, it’s just that Gaia has felt far more important to the story than her).

8) I do think that Jasper and Hope are cute together, and I know they spent the majority of their lives either alone or only with their parents, but GOD I can’t stand how awkward they are. Also, I know ya’ll have feelings for each other and shit, but is now really the time to be making out?? Why do people think that’s okay in literally the worst situations? I know it’s a show, but come on.

9) And how the fuck did Jordan throw and catch that sword? He’s a child who’s never fought a day in his life. Unless they suddenly want to tell me that Harper and Monty were secret ninjas and taught him all their tricks, I don’t believe that.

10) I’m being pissy and bringing up things from the past, but I don’t care. Why the fuck couldn’t Harper and Monty gone into cryo? I know they were happy and shit, but I’M NOT. How the fuck did it take so long for him to get into the files for Sanctum? His ass has done that shit a thousand times before in about two minutes and suddenly it takes him 80 years? Bullshit.

11) I’m still being pissy, but how the fuck does Jordan know what a magician is? “For my first trick, I will make an army appear.” Bruh, no. Monty wouldn’t have known what a magician was either. If they weren’t being taught what a Navy Seal was, there’s no way they knew what magicians were. Calling bullshit on that one as well.

12) I was pretty surprised that the Disciples didn’t start firing on Wonkru immediately. Like, this is the war they’ve been gearing up for forever and they don’t attack as soon as possible? Also, where the fuck did Wonkru get their war paint? Do they just constantly have it on their person? Or did their asses literally spend time making their paint before going to Bardo?

13) I fucking love Miller and Jackson. They’re freaking adorable. Murphy’s flat “I am glad you are safe” was so fucking funny. Also, saving Emori in one scene just to kill her in the next is bullshit. They should have just killed her the first time and done the same thing anyway. Murphy screaming at Jackson to do something and sobbing was heartbreaking. Fantastic acting on Richard Harmon’s part.

14)  Octavia putting on Lincoln’s same warpaint again was once again, so sad. I miss that man. He was too good for his own good. And while I do think that her and Levitt are very cute together, I’ll always prefer her with Lincoln. But I think that he would be really happy that she has found someone new to love.

15) Apparently whatever Echo “did” to Levitt was so forgettable that I don’t even know what she’s talking about. Bad writing. I shouldn’t forget that in just a few weeks, I should remember as soon as I see the two of them in the same room.

16) Lexa. Just all of it. There were some suspicions that she would show up for the last episode, but I didn’t really believe them because I didn’t understand how she would be integrated. I’m glad that they did bring her back, but I’m also not. It was amazing to see her back by Clarke in all of her armor and glory, but knowing it wasn’t actually Lexa was just a punch in the face. It wasn’t her mind, so it’s almost like they didn’t bring her back anyway. I honestly would have preferred if they used someone else for her Judge, because that just really didn’t do it for me. Their hug was sweet, but it didn’t even count as her returning. I personally think that her Judge should have been Bellamy or Madi instead, as they both certainly could fill the role of “the subject’s greatest teacher or the source of their greatest failure...it can be their greatest love.” This is just my preference. Believe me, I know how much Lexa meant to Clarke, but as a fan, bringing our favorite Heda back in that way wasn’t the best way to do it. As a writer, it makes sense, but it doesn’t as a fan. The writers can’t just think of what is the best storytelling, they have to think of what those watching will think.

17) I’m confused about the mindspace? Why did Clarke wake up in her solitary room with her memories painted all over the walls, but Emori woke up in the castle with a view of the desert? Why wouldn’t it have been her and Murphy’s cave? Is there a reason it was the bedroom and not the cave?

18) I know this isn’t canon in any sense, but could you imagine if Murphy and Emori fought over John’s body and she won, and then suddenly woke up with a penis? How fucking funny would that be? Just had to throw that out there.

19) Can I just again reiterate how fucking cute Miller and Jackson are?

20) I’m curious about the location of the test. Why did Cadogan’s take place on a pier, while Raven’s happened on the Ark? If it was their favorite place, wouldn’t Raven’s have been actually out in space? Like during a spacewalk? I’m confused about that.

21) I knew that Raven was somehow going to be involved in the test just because of the trailers we got for the final episode. My two guesses for who the judge would be were Finn and Abby. Though I am happy that we got to see Abby again, I would be curious to see if the scene would have played out any differently if it had been Finn.

22) Where was the full line that was given in the trailer? Because that was amazing. “We’re selfish, and we’re violent, and we have destroyed too much, but we survived.” I loved that line far more than what we got instead, which was simply, “Have we made mistakes? Yes. Clarke, me, all of us, but we were just trying to survive.” I definitely would have chosen the former over the latter. Poor choice on the editors’ parts.

23) How the fuck did Octavia and Echo go out to the field and get Levitt with Echo only being shot once? With all the bullets, the three of them should have been torn apart, I don’t care how much Indra could cover Octavia. Calling bullshit on that as well.

24) Bringing this up kind of late because I’m giving my reviews as I’m rewatching the episode, but what they had Eliza do was really fucked up. Her and Bob suffered a miscarriage during the filming of season seven, so the scene of her holding Madi and crying “my baby” is like 10 times more heartbreaking. If they made her film that after having a miscarriage mere days, weeks or few months before, that’s really, really messed up.

25) They really played-up Sheidheda’s bringing back of “jus drein jus daun” in the trailer. In reality, it was far less intense. I would have preferred what I had been expecting, which was him coming to help convince Wonkru that they would be able to win. However, I am super glad that he is dead and Indra finally got to kill him. I love how that bigass gun just turns people into mist lol.

26) The beginning of Octavia’s speech was literally like “what the FUCK guys” and it was hilarious. And I swear to god if I hear her say “we are Wonkru” or “you are Wonkru” another time, I’m gonna scream. I know it was legit the last episode but I’m sick of it by now lol. When Indra was like “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Octavia’s face was just like “omg me too” and it was really funny.

27) Bellamy. His situation was a whole problem itself. He deserved a hell of a lot better and wHY DID HE CUT HIS HAIR I LIKED IT THE LONG WAY. Anyway, you can bet your ass I’ll be writing a different ending where he didn’t die because FUCK THAT. When I do, I’ll be sure to share it.

28) I’m fucking confused about Murphy and Emori both transcending. Because, what the fuck. Emori died. The dead don’t transcend. Her mind wasn’t even in her body, it was in Murphy’s. So how the fuck did she end up alive and in her own body again. I’m glad she’s alive, but I just don’t understand. It would have made way more sense to have either not had her die in the first place, or to have Murphy, Miller, and Jackson keep pumping her heart so she technically “lived” anyway like Echo.

29) If Madi had decided not to transcend, would she still have been paralyzed? I mean, I would assume not because Levitt and Hope’s gunshots were healed, as was Emori, but I’m curious. Also, wouldn’t Raven’s leg have been fixed? Because if they only fix recent wounds and not old ones, that’s stupid.

30) On the point of Madi deciding not to transcend, why did she? Why didn’t so many other people choose not to? Like, not one Eligius prisoner or person from Sanctum chose to live? No one else from Wonkru? Why didn’t anyone else other than the main cast and guest stars not transcend? I totally understand the Disciples transcending, but seriously, nobody else wanted to live? That’s really weird. Madi and her friends really couldn’t have chosen to live on Earth with Clarke and the others? I just think it’s really unrealistic that not one single person outside of the group chose not to transcend.

31) I was really surprised that Murphy and Emori chose not to transcend, because as the Judge said, they would eventually die and not join them in the infinite. It shocked me due to their fear of dying and wanting to be immortal, but I’m really proud of them.

32) I’m disappointed that those who don’t transcend can’t have children. There were suspicions that Emori might have been pregnant (which were never confirmed), but the idea of her and Murphy having a kid together was adorable. They’d have their teeny tiny families with those two, Hope and Jordan, and Octavia and Levitt.

33) This isn’t as much me pointing out a problem as me wondering, what was Clarke going to say to the Judge when she turned around? What else did she have to say or ask? Was it about Madi? Or maybe Lexa? Or just transcending in general?

34) It’s pretty shitty that some of our questions went unanswered due to the fact that there will be a prequel. On the other hand, I live for lore, so I’m just glad that they eventually will be answered. But still, that doesn’t excuse shitty writing.

35) I want to see a stupid edit of Picasso taking the test where the Judge is Madi.

I think we all know that season seven was really not what we wanted it to be. We’ve been really disappointed by the writers and unfortunately, this is what we got out of it. I believe they really could have done a better job, but I am at least glad that everyone ended up together.

The writing was lacking. Too many questions were left unanswered, I don’t care if you’re making a sequel or not. Plot holes. It really could have been a good season if it was done better.

My ranking of the seasons is as follows: 3, 2, 4, 1, 6, 5, 7. Seasons 4 and 1 are kind of interchangeable for me in spots three and four, as are 6 and 5 in the two spots behind them, whatever the order may be.

But I still love the show. I love the characters, their development, and many things about it. It has been quite the journey and I am glad to have been a fan of the show.

May we meet again.

[babysizedfics]

Back at it again with a couple more HC prompts, which imma just dump in one, and you can pick which ones you want. Puddles with the kiddos, family baking sessions when both are regressed, Ro wanting attention whilst Logan is reading, so climbing all over his book, how their reactions to new stuffies differ, regressed versus non-regressed birthdays.... Etc... 👍

okokokokok buckle up everyone

Puddles:

this is the only one where i have to be like .. i don't think so :0 see virgil can get very nervous when it rains because he's so anxious about 'is it gonna storm? will there be thunder? will we be hit by lightning? will there be a flood? what if one of us slips and hurts our head??' that he just cannot relax enough to be able to jump around in puddles because 'WHAT IF I SLIP IM GONNA DIE' and the wetness on his skin sets off the wrong sensory feelings so jumping in muddy puddles is a no for him (as much as he loves peppa pig)

and roman is a fussy little thing, he may not care as much for his appearance when he's small but i think he will still be conscious enough to notice if he gets wet hair and muddy clothes - plus i feel like roman's mood is quite tied to the weather, on dark days he tends to fee a little more gloomy, ao again not sure about this especially if he wouldn't have his baby brother there with him

Baking:

OH BOY so roman is a great cook okay? like chef level he has honed his skills so that he can make romantic meals for handsome princes, but baking? nu uh, too technical, he ain't got time for that. Patton is the baker of the house and makes cookies and cupcakes way too often for Logan's liking (but secretly he loves them of course, he's just concerned for everybody's teeths) but both CGs will cook dinner when the boys are little

When the boys are regressed they're not allowed much in the kitchen anymore. after roman tried to make breakfast in bed for his CGs and started a very small but very real fire he has lost some kitchen rights (ficlet coming to you at some point perhaps) and is not allowed in the kitchen without at least one CG. even if he can switch so quickly between headspaces, he ends up either 1) too stubborn to come out of little space, or 2) a kittle bit clumsy when he comes out of it

but to make up for roman being upset by this slight loss of independence (he is a big kid after all) patton and he do weekly baking sessions! and there's always a theme. most recently they had animal crossing themed cupcakes, a little mermaid themed jello (not technically baking but roman wanted to but little fish gummies in the jelly), and... the next one is a secret because i might put it in chapter 7 (: in fact chapter 7 will feature the first instance of this tradition!!

virgil has pyrophobia (fear of fire) and so is never keen to be in the kitchen while there's food preparation going on (but he was allowed to help with the under the sea jello!!) so roman and pattons baking sessions are an excuse for mama and baby bonding time! the tradition didn't start until after virgil's separation anxiety from patton had eased up a little so luckily there's barely any tears

mama baby bonding time consists of but is not limited to: sitting on mama's lap, doing puzzles together, (vee trying to suck on a puzzle piece and crying when he's told not to), mama reading baby books to vee, vee touching all the textures and flaps in the baby books, snuggles

Ro wanting attention while Lo is reading:

this is 1000% canon!! later in the series logan will often be at work in his room and have the boys with him because patton is busy with something or another. they realise they really do need to keep working for thomas' sake but manage to integrate the boys' littlespaces into it. Eg. logan dangling baby plastic keys from one hand to amuse girgil while he's typing with the other

but when it's quiet time, when patton is in virgil's room because the baby is having a nap and papa wants to watch over him, when roman hasn't been little because he's been working or simply not in the mood earlier that day, when logan is just chilling, just reading a stephen hawking book in the living room, when he's literally just vibing, roman can and will launch himself into logan's lap sending the book flying and logan isn't allowed to tell him off because 'I'm little now! i want attention now!! hi mom!!!!'

New stuffies:

AHHHHHHHHH this this this is so so cute!!

roman never used to care much for soft toys before okay? before he was ever a little sure he appreciated disney action figures (he used them to block out scenes he wrote for theatre productions and screenplays and fanfiction) sure he always had a soft spot for Mrs Fluffybottom his childhood toy, but she always just sat on a shelf, he never fet the need to cuddle her or play with her

but when he realises he's little, when he starts playing with vee, when he sees how much vee cares about his soft animals, when patton and logan buy him a present to welcome him to the littlespace family and it's a golden teddy bear (soon to be named Aladdin) with big brown beady eyes and a satin crimson bow around its neck? yeah big kids love stuffies too

and now whenever roman is gifted a new toy (soft or otherwise) he essentially gets the zoomies!!! his brain is going a million miles a minute with all the game possibilities and with the excitement of NEW PRESENT!!! and with the happiness that his caregivers thought about him and he's been a good enough boy to deserve gifts?? yeah he's so so so excited he canNOT stand still he runs around the house for a whole hour flinging his new toy around (yeah he's a bit rough with them and there's been more than one torn limp or loose eye but he doesn't care it just shows how much they're loved!)

Now virgil: this boy is very very very emotionally attached to his stuffies. when he was a "dark side" he couldn't have much soft stuff because it just went against everything the household stood for and he couldn't risk the others finding out about how not-scary he really was, but he allowed himself a single stuffed rabbit that was easy to hide and that he loved with all of his being. it was his security blanket and his one item that could offer him comfort in a oanic attack and his only posession that he felt was true to him and not true to the scary facade he put up to scare thomas and the "light sides" into listening to him

without spoiling anything, that bunny was left in that house when he moved to the "light sides"

and in his new home virgil started collecting soft toys whenever he needed comfort. everytime he felt unwanted, every time he had an anxiety attack, everytime there was a thunderstorm predicted for the next week he would get himself a new soft toy because that was the only way he knew to comfort himself. needless to say he's got a pretty big collection now. you might think he became desensitized to new toys because of how many times he had gotten himself a new one, and you might be partly right.

that is until for the first time ever he is given a stuffie by someone else... when logan buys him a soft toy in apology for accidentally revealing his regression to everyone ((yes i am writing this fic!))

it wasn't really logan's fault, virgil should have been more aware he should have been more careful he should have hidden it all better but the logical side was guilt-ridden nonetheless. virgil hadn't expected much to be honest, the sincere apology was enough for him

but when logan blushed and shyly opened a box and handed him a black cat stuffie? virgil had to fight very very hard not to outright sob on the spot. he simply took it, thanked logan shakily, and prayed that logan didn't point out the fact that tears were falling onto the fluff of his new stuffed friend Jiji

now whenever he gets a new toy it's different than before - it's not because he's upset and needs comfort, it happens less often now but it's more special, it could be for a holiday or as a way of saying he's been very sweet or just because patton simply couldn't resist this one because look at its cute lil eyes! but each and everytime he knows when he is handed a new toy by one of his family members it really means 'i love you'

and he buries his face in its softness - it used to be to hide his tears, but now he just can't help but squeeze it tight and close and let the feeling of love wash over him

Birthdays:

yknow that episode of steven universe where steven wears a regal cape and a golden crown? yeah that's roman whether he's little or not

seriously this kid is very much the 'it's my birthweek!' type

lots of singing, lots of 'but i'm the birthday boy!!' to try to get thtings he really shouldn't be getting (like a third cookie) (and yes patton caves every single time) (patton is eventually banned from making decisions on romans behalf during his "birthweek")

there's not much difference at all between little romans birthday and big romans birthday, he's just an excitable boy whether he's a kiddo or not - this may or may not make the caregivers question whether maybe he actually was a little before virgil's regression was revealed

(irrelevant but patton definitely makes the pun 'you're a little? a little what? finish your sentences silly billy!')

virgil hates his birthday. hates it.

too much attention, too many things that could go wrong, too much pressure on it being a good day. what if his anxiety is bad that day? what if he doesn't want everyone watching him open presents? what if he's genuinely terrified that people think walking towards him with a big grin, singing at him, and carrying a cakeful of literal fire is a somehow a fun activity??

when he first moved into the house he made it very clear that he does not have a birthday so don't even try to throw him a party

naturally roman and patton were devastated, but after a failed attempt at getting virgil to enjoy his birthday they obeyed logan's request that they not try to push the idea on virgil any further

but the first birthday after they become a little family, it's a bit different

they don't push it, not at first, but virgil does wake up to patton already in his room and cooing at him adoringly , immediately sending him into his regressed headspace

then he's given a new soft toy. that wasn't so bad

then roman let him choose what disney film they watched. that wasnt bad either

then logan cuddled him for an hour and they might have fallen asleep together not noticing the smell of vanilla coming from the kitchen

then there was a new paci, a new rattle, another new soft toy, and cake cut up into tiny squares so he could nibble on it with his fingers

there was no loud singing no big surprises no bright lights or fire or anything else that he hated about birthdays

there was only love and toys and comfort. so virgil really didn't mind birthdays much after that

[bellamyblakru]

HEYYYYYYY i’m so excited to respond to ur ask it made me so happy to see u in my notifs and i’m so excited for u for ur milestone! anyways i kinda want all of them but i decided to cut down to 🥺 :)))) 👀 pls rant i will read it all and ☕️ for morgwen andddd manon from the tog books. <3 <3 :*

HEY AMY!!! i hope you had a lovely day today🥺thank you for the ask💞

🥺- for my mutuals, ill talk about why i follow you and why everyone should be as well

omg im pretty sure i met and started following you like the day of that bellamy scene™️ because i remember thinking how fucking horrendous that episode ended, and, at the same time, how amazing that night on tumblr was aksnakaaj. so that night, tumblr was a fucking disaster and chaotic and funny asf. i remember texting @tkstrrand the entire ep (bc she couldn’t watch it for some reason) like how boring it was/how she wasn’t missing much blahblah and then when the death scene happened at the last fucking second, i sent her about a thousand separate incoherent texts in the span of like two minutes LOL tumblr was in shambles and i made a few posts about how fucking dumb the show was—one post i made i told my few new followers to fuck the 100 and just watch merlin and you texted me about it!! we have literally so much in common (with merlin, atla, the 100, tog!!!) that when you texted me about how you felt about that scene compared to merlin’s ending, my thought was like “this blog is so kind and we feel the same way and i need to follow asap.”

you are literally so sweet and lovely to talk to🥺that night™️ may had been disastrous, but i can look on it with a lighter heart because we met because of it!! every time we talk i always smile so much (and dw, i know i still have to get clone wars for our boy anakin👀👀)

dude, everyone should be following you because your blog is incredible, your tags are superb, and you are literally one of the sweetest people i’ve met on here😭💞 i adore you.

👀 - and ill tell you a parallel from merlin or the 100 that still fucks me up

this post for merthur still FUCKS ME UP by @camelotsheart

THE EYES. THE GIFSET’S BEAUTIFUL COLORING. THE EYES. EYES. I CANT. THIS GIFSET HAUNTS ME. parallels, man, i fucking love them.

☕️ + send me a ship/character/movie/book and ill give you my opinions on it

my opinions on morgwen:

I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I SHIP IT WITH MY WHOLE ASS SOUL. dude, their potential as a ship is incredible😭i fucking love them together. i wrote them as a side pairing in my first multi-chapter merthur fic and i adored writing their interactions and dynamic sm. if morgana was going to be with anyone, my first choice will always be gwen. i also read them as a pairing in fics all the time because the pure power-couple potential is insane.

hot ☕️ here™️: i think if someone was to bring morgana back from the brink of hatred, it should have been gwen (not merlin). so, like, i could definitely see merlin telling her about his magic and whatnot and maybe that would have stopped her from going dark side...but...i didn’t think merlin should have (ekk probably an unpopular opinion).

see, i love merlin with my entire heart..and tbh telling uther fucking pendragon’s ward that he had magic was just too much of a gamble—especially with arthur’s life on the line, which literally became merlin’s sole purpose in life (another matter for a different essay™️). i understand his need to keep it a secret from her even more when the large reptile repeatedly got into merlin’s head that she was bad news from the jump (also another matter for a different essay™️).

SO. that leaves two options for our miserable magical gal: arthur or gwen. now, i honestly believe arthur wouldn’t have hurt her if he was told. and i even think he may have became more sympathetic to the magical community because of it—especially when he saved mordred wayyyy early on that cemented the fact that arthur was not uther. but i can also understand why morgana wouldn’t tell arthur, and it’s pretty much the same reason merlin didn’t tell her about his magic: the risk was too big and she didn’t want to gamble her life with an unknown reaction.

now we get to the main point: gwen would have been the best option for her. whether it is platonic or not, gwen was always there for morgana. gwen is such a kind, loving soul, and she deeply respected and adored morgana—you can tell by the way she smiled around her in the beginning seasons, how she would get her flowers, how she would worry about morgana’s wellbeing. even though gwen was morgana’s servant, she cared for her in more ways than were required and it showed. they were best friends. the entire incident with gwen’s father, which was horrendous, might be the reason gwen would be rightfully upset about the subject of magic; however. she knew her father wasn’t magical, she knew uther was a tyrant, and she knew morgana’s heart. someone is gonna tell me that if morgana had explained to gwen what happened, how her magic was innate, how morgana would never fucking choose to have magic anywhere near her shithead guardian (who probably would have killed her imo if he knew bc you know the whole “fire will purify” bullshit), that gwen would hate her??? I MEAN LITERALLY WATCH THE LAST EPISODES AGAIN. when QUEEN GWEN realizes that the whole time it was merlin saving everyone’s asses, and she connected all the dots, her face showed nothing but pure understanding and acceptance.

gwen was such an underused character. her fucking potential arcs could have been phenomenal (again, LOL, another matter for a different essay™️), and the way canon made morgana use gwen was fucking gross and im not a fan🙃 but fuck canon. i ship them and i love them to pieces ✌🏻thank you for coming to my talk✌🏻

my opinions on manon mf blackbeak:

oh boy, where do i start? i would die for her...is that too extreme for the starting place? i fucking LOVE manon blackbeak dude. oh my god, so, remember when her and aelin fought for the first time in QoS? i remember jumping up from my lounging position with my hand over my smiling mouth because i love both of these badass hardcore women with everything i am. i mean, aelin owns my ass (she is probably my favorite character of all time rn) but manon hits differently. her storyline at the beginning was so bleh, but, man, did it escalate fast to “holy shit” to “i fucking love her” to “oh fuck im sobbing.”

the only thing i will complain about with her character in canon was the fact that my girl was straight???? excuse me?? she has been alive for fucking forever and she is straight? no. i cant accept that. tbh i ship manon and elide🥺 (i also ship dorain and chaol oops). but her character development was everything and i cant think too long on what happens because i will start crying tbh sksjsmakks

okay wow im so sorry for, uh, spilling every thought i had into this. it legit took me like a day to respond 😔

i appreciate you so much. thank you🥺💞

[inkribbon796]

Like a House of Cards Ch. 7: Something Precious, Something Gained

Summary: As the dominos fall in the opposite direction, time ticks on.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

After the blast hit and Dark fell backwards, their form flicking and convulsing, the chaos around them froze in time.

Brody broke free of the magic pushing him away and both he and Wil raced over to Dark.

Wil took out his revolver and fired in the Guildmaster’s direction, screaming in a rage before leaping to Dark’s side.

“No! No!” Brody screamed as he raced over to Dark, tears starting to stream from his eyes. “She wasn’t supposed ta hit yeh.”[1]

“Darkling!” Wil knelt by Dark’s other side.

Brody began drawing up as much aura as he could muster as started trying to seep it into Dark’s battered body as carefully as he could so he didn’t worsen the damage. He looked up at Wil, “Make yerself fookin’ useful, will yeh Bubbles?”[2]

“Ohh, right,” Wil realized and placed his hands ever so gently on Dark’s chest, the touch gentle as the two of them began slowly seeping aura into Dark’s chest and tentatively their aura fused the horrid cracks up again.

The Entity’s souls, no longer screaming in agony, began to rouse again from their dazed state and Dark saw Wil and Brody leaning over him.

“Dark, sweet mother ‘a[3] Mary, yer[4] alive,” Brody gasped, setting his head on Dark’s chest as another round of sobs ripped their way out of his chest. “I thought yeh were gonna die.”[5]

The hunters all suddenly disappeared into a massive portal as a person in a long brown trench coat and blood stained bandages over his eyes. The blood from his bandages was starting to roll down his cheeks.

The entire group looked at this new Host, and the one who was still standing by Illinois.

“The fook[6]?” Marvin said, looking between the two Hosts.

The Dealer walked towards Dark, who was starting to settle in exhausted unconsciousness instead of imminent death, Wil looking up and frowned at the fact that he was now seeing double of one of his boys. Both he and Brody felt drained.

“Huh, I don’t recall getting drunk,” Wil commented.

“He’s not gonna[7] die, right?” Brody growled.

“Of course not, why would the Host want such a thing?” The Dealer scoffed. “The Entity should be fortunate that it will take another three years for the Guildmaster to amass that kind of magic again and by then the Entity will be more than fully recharged due to the vast empire he has accrued that he can get aura from.”

“Holy fuck, he’s still alive?”

J.J and Hearts appeared out of thin air.

Illinois and his siblings, except for the Host, braced for another attack.

“Hey, hey,” Hearts held his hands up in surrender. “We’re done, besides there’s no point in wearing the suits again now that Wilford’s alive.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bim demanded.

“Well, we,” Hearts began patting his pocket in confusion, before groaning and rolling his eyes. “Logan’s still got the video, awww, shit, we were gonna[7] use that.”

Hearts looked up at the beanstalk not too far from them. A huge sunflower platform starting to bud and flower at the top. “Hold up, we’ll get Tech Avery and the Hulking Croak down and we’ll do the whole spiel then, when we’re—”

The Suit dodged as Ethan came out of nowhere to try and punch Hearts in the face. Hearts deflecting or dodging most of the strikes.

“What did you do to my dog!” Ethan demanded in an angry fury. “Stop wearing my fucking face.”

Then one of Ethan’s fists phased through Hearts’s face before he completely disappeared. Then he was swiftly kicked in the back so he toppled forward onto his face.

“We’re done,” Hearts told Ethan, parts of him materializing first before others. “I can kick your ass, but I really don’t want to.”

“You’ve killed dozens of people already,” Ethan spat, “why stop now?”

“Well maybe I like existing,” Hearts told him, “you ever think of that?”

“Why would that matter?” Ethan demanded, picking himself back up.

“I can’t tell if you’re being obnoxious or just plain stupid,” Hearts rolled his eyes, and looked around.

J.J casually snapped his fingers and a magical barrier sprung up and a wall of red and gold magic hit it. “Right on time, it seems,” the false J.J smiled.

“Yeah, I’d hate to tell the story twice,” Hearts smiled. “Hey Princey, are the others with you?”

“Odious scoundrel!” Roman shouted. He was standing with all the other Sides. All of them in their superhero outfits. Other heroes and villains began showing up since they’d been called over by the cracking dome and the burst of magic.

J.J dissipated the barrier.

Nate let out a sigh of relief as he counted all seven Sides. None of them had tried to kill each other for power or to get more of themselves back. He’d need to have a long chat with all of them, but right now there were other things to worry about.

“Where is that face stealing monster?” Roman demanded.

“Seeing as I still have my face, I think we are merely dealing with imposters,” Logan explained.

“Logic, now is not the time for semantics,” Janus hissed.

Logan fell silent, but he was looking at the two Suits. Hearts smiled at him in return.

“Hey, glad to see you’re all still doing well,” Hearts still had a huge smile.

Janus hissed at him in fury at the same time Logan yelled out, “FALSEHOOD!”

“Yikes, but that’s a discussion to have with our Logan,” Hearts smiled.

“That was nothing like Logic!” Roman shouted. “How dare you?”

“Well yeah, he’s not our Logic yet, give him about fifteen years and he’ll get there,” Nestor explained. “We’re from the future.”

There was a beat of silence before Roman began laughing, pointing his sword down at them, “Your tricks will not fool me, thou cretinous wretched. Tell them Deceit.”

All the other Sides had already been looking at Janus, who was staring at the two doppelgängers in a mixture of shock and apprehension.

“Deceit,” Roman growled, “now is not the time to play devil’s advocate.”

“That would explain the nanite technology and the fact that they know who we are,” Logan reasoned, a pit forming in his gut. Because if that Logan had been capable of that much sadism and outright, malicious violence . . .

“No. No!” Roman spat angrily at Janus,. “We are not even considering this.”

“Wait you guys are even thinking of considering this?” Ethan shouted. “It’s absolute horseshit!”

“Deceit’s a living lie detector,” Illinois called out. “He just also happens to be a really good illusionist.”

“It’s true,” Joan pushed three way past Janus and Remus and jumped down from a piece of rubble.

“So they’re telling the truth?” Joan looked at Janus.

“Unfortunately, it seems so,” Janus answered through gritted teeth.

Heart looked over at Brody, “Come on, Chase, if we can’t cheat with Logan’s video, we gotta do it together. I only want to do this once a round.”

“I’m not fookin’ leavin’ him ta get shot again!”[8] Brody shouted. “I don’t care if Host says it’s clear or not. I didn’t put up with all this bullshite[9] ta[10] watch him die.”

“Come on, he’s literally in the middle of what amounts to an army of magic, he’s not going anywhere,” Hearts tried to reason.

“Leave it,” J.J told him, his voice still grainy with whatever was helping him speak. “We need to get Logan back and it’s best to have this farce dealt with sooner rather than later.”

“Fine,” Hearts let out a frustrated groan, before pointing to J.J and then Brody. “This is J.J he’s a tactical advisor. This is Brody, part time hit man, and fulltime emotional crutch for an unstable eldritch demon.”

“And I am the Police Commissioner of the Egoton PD,” Hearts introduced, gesturing to himself, CP Nestor flashed a badge on his wallet that was usually carried around by Abe and reached around and grabbed a disk at the back of his neck and handed it over to the Dealer. “I’ll spare my name since it makes younger me a bit antsy despite half of the league already knowing who we are and where you live because you’ve been playing hero since you were fourteen.”

“The hell, you’re not me, you’ve killed people,” Ethan argued.

“Trust me, we’ve been targeting people who have killed or at the single rumor of an order from their Guildmaster they would kill. I have killed far better people, and I’m not claiming we’re saints but we did this town a favor.”

“You could have just told us upfront,” Logan grumbled. “It would have saved us all this trouble and bloodshed.”

Hearts started letting out an amused chuckle, J.J and Brody were decidedly not laughing, “Oh that’s funny, and you always say you don’t have a sense of humor. Did you know that you always ask that, every single time? Nah, you see, we tried that. A lot. So we’ve just been trying whatever sticks.”

“This is the tenth reset,” Brody frowned. “Thanks ta the anomaly an’ J.J here, we’ve been able ta remember all ‘a ‘em so we could make changes as we needed.”[11]

“We had to remove your J.J this time around because he refused to help,” Diamonds explained. “Speaking of which.”

He stepped to the side and snapped his fingers, a bubble of distorted time rippled out and J.J tripped through. He looked confused and bewildered, until he saw future J.J and jumped up to attack him.

Then there was another ripple of time and both J.J were standing there, the real one looking furious as Diamonds just stared back. “See? No one’s died, you should have just trusted me from the start.”

J.J looked around at everyone and he froze when he saw Jackie, who was standing next to Chase.

“Jackie?” J.J gave a shaky sign as he took a couple steps forward. The mute hero then raced over and hit Jackie with a hug, he was shaking in relief.

“Hey, Jay, you okay now?” Jackie asked in concern.

J.J nodded and held onto Jackie even tighter.

Hearts had the wherewithal to wait for the moment to pass before he pointed up to the beanstalk, “And our Logic just peaced out up there. He motioned to the beanstalk. “He’s got the drive we need where we explain everything and have actual video evidence to prove it. So you all can either wait in here, or we can send someone up to get him.”

Roman looked up at the beanstalk, finally sheathing his sword. “Fine, besides, we have unfinished business with him.”

“Excellent the Core Sides will be able to accomplish the mission with little to no bloodshed,” the Dealer smiled.

“They good or should we send someone else?” Nestor asked J.J and the Dealer.

“The Core Sides should be fine,” the Host asked for the two of them. “The Sides should not worry, the Host will not allow the Suits to escape. Especially since there’s a town to clean up.”

“I’m going with them,” Nestor decided. “Someone needs to help power him down afterwards and he won’t let that happen if he thinks the other Sides are still in danger.”

That caused a little bit of an argument but after a while everyone came to an agreement. Core Sides would go up with Nestor to retrieve their Logan and Patton. The three Dark Sides would stay down with the others and help clean up or wait for Dark to recover.

Janus did walk over to the beanstalk with them, halting Logan a ways away to talk. Mostly to plan in case Nestor double crossed them.

“I’ll keep an eye on things down here,” Janus decided, a small albino python sliding out of his sleeve and moving towards Logan. The logical Side letting the serpent crawl up his body until it was delicately wrapped around his wrist and then turned into a bracelet.

“Are you certain that you do not wish to join us?” Logan asked.

“If I go up there, I will strangle him with my own hands,” Janus warned.

“Alright,” Logan responded in understanding and walked back towards the spot the other Core Sides were standing with Nestor. Roman set his hand on the tree-like stem of the beanstalk and a rounded elevator carriage made of woven plants and flowers.

“Is that even safe, Princey,” Virgil looked at the carriage nervously.

“Of course why wouldn’t it be?” Roman leaned against the carriage with a huge smile.

Virgil frowned, “Are you serious?”

After some magic from Patton they all got into the carriage and it started to move up. The ride was quiet for a bit as the carriage began moving up.

“Why are you even coming up, don’t you have a future to hover over?” Virgil spat. “We can’t be that important.”

Nestor frowned, leaning forward in his seat, “Hey look, I’ve regretted many, many of the things I’ve done in my life but the time I spent with you guys was not one of them.”

Nestor pointed to Logan, “You’re not our Logan yet, but even at this point I owe you a lot. You fixed my crappy homemade suit into something that would protect me. You and Silver and Jackie helped give me a structure while I was still in school and doing hero work. I still hold those days in a special place in my heart, and regardless of what happens next that won’t change. But even after I still owe Logan a lot for really helping me out. I might have mentioned it but this city hates me. Dark dropped the police department in my lap and basically told me: “keep order in my city, bitch” and walked off to keep looking for Wil. Logan was there to help me. He helped me when no one else did or could.”

“Sounds like hell,” Virgil commented.

“For five years it was,” Nestor told him, “a lot of people who didn’t need to die, died. Hunters were killing anyone they thought could be a demon vessel after they found out how many demons were actually in the city. And while all that was going on, I had to stand up in front of the news and try and keep the peace in a city that was turning itself inside out. My mission was to save as many people as I could, and if a couple scumbags who were going to kill children and people who have nothing to do with heroes or villains then who cares?”

Logan’s brain was already going to dangerous places. He could see a logical chain of events that brought the Side from where he was sitting in-between Patton and Virgil, to wherever Spade was in his life. It was a dangerous slippery slope.

His future self had already been telling him things. And if these doppelgängers were truly from the future then he had to acknowledge that his other self’s warnings were true. That Virgil and Roman had died. That Patton had been hurt and needed protecting. That Deceit had to be trusted when he couldn’t trust anyone else.

And that the hunters were to blame.

These thoughts swirled his head as he evaluated them:

Did Patton deserve to be attacked for things he could not control? No!

Did a young man who was barely old enough to drink deserve to have the metaphorical weight of a city dropped upon his shoulders and left to run the police force on his own? No!

Did the people who callously murdered Virgil deserve to be left to walk free . . .

Logan hesitated. Apparently most of those people were now dead before they could kill Virgil and others like him. They also hadn’t yet done anything.

Objectively his head spun with the paradox. Given the chance they would have killed him. But they were too dead to actually carry out the deed anymore. We’re they still guilty of the crime?

The logical Side’s battered heart cried “Yes” but now Logan couldn’t be sure that was his mind and heart deciding those things anymore.

His future self had clearly been trying to make Logan think and act like him. If not for Ethan and Chase, he would have succeeded.

“Not sure how much I should keep telling you, either way, Lo’s gonna be pissed,” Nestor shrugged as the flower car continued to take them up. “Logan works kinda with Google these days. Patton started going full demon and got scared so he worked with Dark for aura to help sooth Pat, and then he worked with Google and Bing for safety.”

“Because he’s inorganic?” Logan commented, roused from his rather venomous thoughts.

“Yeah took a good five years for Lo to want to work with him, Google had been making offers for a long time before that,” Nestor scratched some rubble out of the back of his scalp. “We were all going through a lot and I kinda lost track of him for a couple of years since we were all so busy. Then he just showed up in Dark’s office one day a glitchy and angry mess.”

“I fail to see how if you were genuine that we would turn your assistance down,” Logan grumbled.

“Yeah, we’ll you weren’t the difficult one,” Nestor scoffed, looking out the window in thought for a couple seconds before looking back. “Look, Lo’s really protective of Pat, so just be careful, okay? Pat’s been through a lot.”

“Our anger and frustration is with your Logan, not your Patton, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

The cart finally came to a stop at the top of the beanstalk and opened into a lush and verdant garden entryway. Beautiful petals and pastel colored insects fluttering in the breeze.

There were the light sounds of conversation that the Sides and Nestor could hear coming from the next room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. She wasn’t supposed to hit you

2. Make yourself fucking useful, will you Bubbles?

3. of

4. you’re

5. I thought you were going to die

6. Fuck

7. going to

8. I’m not fucking leaving him to get shot again!

9. bullshit

10. to

11. Thanks to the anomaly and J.J here, we’ve been able to remember all of them so we could make changes as we needed.

[itsa-lie]

The “Death” Of A Liar [Epilogue of Birth Of A Liar] 

A epilogue of that headcanon I wrote for Kokichi. You can read all five parts here. Will contain spoilers so read at your own risk!  Trigger Warning: death, poisoning, needles, and a mention of a certain death in game.

There it was...

The  Hydraulic crusher comes closer to his face. It was slow, painfully so. The pain in his body was unbearable. The poison was going through his body at an accelerating rate. Kokichi slowly turn his head to the side to see Kaito. His face was a literal mess. His face was full of tears, red and puffy, nose running like a faucet of snot. Oh jeez...if he wasn’t so in pain he’d make fun of this big hero guy bawling like a baby. Though he could only give a smile to him. And a small pained chuckle.

“C-C’mon Kaito, you’re the hero guy, right? You’re about to defeat the baddest villain ever. You shouldn’t be crying. Ya...ya..big baby...”

Kaito glares back to the boy laying shirtless on his back on the press, the tears still not stopping. “You idiot! Biggest bad villain?! J-Jeez! You’re doing this to stop the Mastermind! This was all your plan! Don’t...don’t say you’re a villian, alright? You’ve done some stupid things but...”

Kokichi cut the purple haired teen off with a weak “nee-hee-hee” as he turns his head back to the slowly descending iron. “You always were an idiot...” Kaito slams his fist on the control panel angrily, still filled with sorrow. “I am NOT an idiot!” Kokichi laughs again, the press only a few feet from his face. “You’re too trusting...I mean...you’re trusting me right? ....thank you for that...even if it is an idiotic decision...but hey....maybe I’m an idiot too right? I am trying to stop this horrible game.” Kokichi’s breathing gets shallow, each breath was an exhausting experience now. Even if it hurt horribly, Kokichi smiles.

“It’s like those movies, yeah? A hero and their side-kick try to beat the super villain, the villain causes so much trouble for a few more movies, then finally after a big climatic battle the hero finally defeats the villain.” The press was only a few inches from his face now, he couldn’t turn back to see Kaito without being even more in pain than he already was. Not to mention his constant wheezing from Maki’s poison made it hard for him to even talk. He had to hurry this up.

“I’m...not the final villain, you hero guys still gotta...find them but...but at least...I wasn’t boring...right?”

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

“SIMULATION TERMINATED. EJECTING...EJECTING...”

The horrible pain of getting every sort of bone crushed in your body suddenly halted as a robotic voice echoed in the air. There were sounds of machinery opening and whirling, yet everything was still so dark, so odd...

What felt like a cool breeze hit Kokichi’s face as he could feel some sort of apparatuses snap off or out of his body. And then he fell face first into a tiled floor. A cold, unforgiving, tiled floor. Grunting, Kokichi sits up and rubs his nose from the fall. ...wait...everything didn’t feel like a pancake...was he...alive? Should he dare open his eyes? Okay...on the count of three...one....two...three! His eyes wandered to his hands, both looking normal, except he was in some sort of different clothes. They looked familiar, but kinda boring. Oh God this was hell wasn’t it? Only the Devil himself would have everyone in such boring school uniforms. Kokichi missed his DICE outfit but hey, no one cared about him anyway so maybe hell was where he deserved to be. He wasn’t complaining. But if it was hell, where was the fire? Or the demons? Or the Devil and his pitchfork?

But the only place he saw was a white room. A white room full off odd sci-fy like pods. Some pods were empty, but others did have people inside them. They happened to look a lot like the surviving classmates, one of which seemed to be tossing and turning wildly. 

“Kaito?”

That was Kaito alright...only he wasn’t wearing his usual jacket and tee shirt, he seemed to be wearing a drab school outfit as well. Wait...how did he get to hell? This guy was Mister Perfect! Why would he end up in a place that bad guys go to if he’s the hero? Maybe he should have a talk with God and get Him to reconsider. That was...if he could get out of this room! But what was this weird pod everyone was in? Was he in one as well? Upon turning around there was indeed a pod just like everyone else had. The inside had a soft plush interior as well as a weird white halo-like contraption at the front. There also seemed to be tubes and needles that were on the side. Wait...what did the tube go to-never mind, he looked in and regretted it. It was apparently attached to a catheter bag...okay new idea, no more trying to explore weird tubes and stuff. 

However a noise coming from the other side of the room caught his attention. A girl had come in. She looks exhausted, her breathing fast and rapid, her face as red as an apple from exertion. Short brown hair framed her face and she wore a very fancy middle school uniform. Honestly she looked familiar but for some reason Kokichi couldn’t figure out who she was. “Kokichi! I ran here as soon as I saw and-”

“Finally! Satan! I’ve been waiting for you. Ya know, I really wasn’t expecting you to be a little girl, I thought you’d be a bit intimidating or somethi-”

Before he could finish that statement the girl slapped him hard making him stumble back holding his hand to his face. The girl looked angry as hell.

“I saw everything! What was wrong with you? You called out that Kaede girl, and that poor bug man, and-and-and-well you did so much I don’t even want to think of it!” She was shaking with rage. Was this girl just a fan of the show? No...she might have been but if this was just some random passerby saying these words to him he wouldn’t care. But for some reason coming from...whoever this is...it made him feel extreme guilt? But just like always...Kokichi hides his real emotions behind a blank stare.

The girl stopped her ranting and looked up at Kokichi, her eyes still watering. “Don’t you...remember me?”

A blank face, a white lie, a half-truth.

“Nope. Not at all.”

This answer got the girl more upset as she began to sob. “You don’t remember me, do you?” She rummages through her back pocket as she pulls out a poorly drawn clown mask and places it on her face. And for the first time...Kokichi was at a loss for words. That mask was important! Yeah, in his memory he remembered it looking much better but this was DICE’s logo! Their uniform! All of the members had one. However he couldn’t get himself to say anything! Say something! Say anything, stupid!

“I knew it...” The girl places her mask back. “I’m Hanako! The person you promised to take care of DICE if you were ever gone! And now you betrayed everything our organization ever stood for by acting like a mean selfish brat! And not only that!” She stares daggers at the pod containing what appears to be a sleeping Maki. “Big sister tried to kill you! I don’t know what happened in this game but it’s like I don’t even know who you two are anymore! You’re like two evil strangers!” Before she could go on her rant, two policemen had entered from an unseen stairway. Come to think of it that was probably how Hanako got in.

 “Only Crew-members and participants are allowed through this point, little girl.” One says grabbing the girl’s arm. “Ah, her uniform. She must be from that fancy shmancy all girls orphanage not too far from here. According to my records she escapes a lot.”

“Let me go! I-I have to go back to DICE! I hate that orphanage!” Hanako tries to struggle out of the man’s grip but to no avail.

“Wait just a second, fatso! I was talking to her!” Kokichi demands. This girl was being forced back to a place against her will and even if he was the Ultimate Supreme Leader Of Evil, he definitely wasn’t going to sit back and watch these two bully her! Not only that, this girl had information on DICE, maybe she knows the truth. “Shuddup pipsqueak. You got what you deserved.” One cop completely discarded him.  

“Wait, what happened? Did the little grape kid kill anyone directly yet? Shit did I miss his execution?”

“Almost. Seems he tried to kill that Kaito guy under a giant press but then suddenly outta nowhere the complete opposite happens an’ Kaito is alive an’ the supreme leader is squashed like a grape!”

“Shoot! I missed it! Did they record the squashin’?”

“No but you know, they do show his body...or what’s left of it anyways. Plus they do a whole play-by-play anyway with a reenactment of what happened. Sadly I think they’re gonna execute the Kaito kid next...”

“A shame, but at least he’ll go out as a hero, right?”

Kaito...execution...he knew this would happen...and he didn’t really want it to. Hell...after seeing so many of his friends die Kokichi was willing to go through an execution as well out of extreme guilt for not finishing this “destroy Daganronpa” plan quick enough! But at least Kaito will die as a hero, and he’ll most likely die of his disease before Monokuma could really kill him. The thought of that bear being frustrated with that filled Kokichi with so much joy. He smiles a little, only to be pushed away like trash by the cops as they take the girl back up.

“.........”

That’s right...he was the “mastemind”. The guy who kept causing trouble for everyone in the game. The bad guy. The antagonist. That’s what he was now...to the world, to Maki, to Hanako, and most likely to DICE themselves. Whoever Kokichi Ouma was before the Killing Game was gone. Everyone forgot that version, even Kokichi himself...no one would want him around anymore. So it was settled. He won’t go back to his orphanage...he won’t go back to DICE, they tore down their headquarters anyway. He was going to hide away. He’s been doing that for years now and he was good at it. Why stop now? With his blank stare which hid tons and tons of pain, he made his way up the stairs to start his new life who knows where.

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

“Will that be for here or to go?”

“Uhhhh....I think I’ll take it to go. Oh, can I get some extra ketchup?”

“Sure. Alright m’am. Have a happity-happy day.”

God he hated saying that, but he had to. It’s part of Happity Burger’s policy. The woman had to double take looking at him too. No doubt she recognizes him. Shit.

Good thing he was on his break. His manager was apparently not into television shows so he didn’t mind hiring him, though still he hid his name-tag or borrowed a co-workers anytime he needed one for the uniform. Yeah flipping burgers and singing that same stupid happy birthday song to some kid who was this close to barfing on you wasn’t a glorious life but...hey it was a way to get by. Once you get through the stares that is.

And people stared.

A lot.

Ugh.

It was during his break that he got a text from an unknown number. Kokichi slightly looked at his phone to see who it was.

Unknown: Hello? Unknown: Do I have the right number?

Who would even text him besides his boss? He rolls his eyes and goes back to looking at memes trying to get a chuckle out of his depressing life. He looks around to see more people looking at him. Tch..he turn around to the window in the booth he was sitting at, ignoring the trash and spills on the table from the family who ate here before. 

Ding!

Unknown: Kokichi Ouma? 

Okay that surprised him for a second. Hardly anyone knew his name because he wouldn’t tell it, so how the hell would they know? 

You: Sorry, wrong number.

Well he was a liar after all. According to his phone he had only a few minutes of break time left before the lunch rush comes in. He cursed to himself and cleaned up the table he was sitting at. As he did he thought about all of his friends...not all his memories had come back...though some came back quicker than others. He did remember the Killing Game participants vividly though. Kaede, Shuichi, Kiiboy, Kaito,...Maki. Actually now that he’s older and an adult now he holds no ill will towards Maki. The fact that girl...whoever she was...remembered both him and her meant something. He still hasn’t figured that out. But that Kokichi Ouma was dead. Crushed by a  Hydraulic press much to the delight of an entire audience of strangers. Shuichi was right.

He was always going to be alone.

And he was used to it. There was nothing he could do about it. The universe hated him. And honestly...he hated himself too.

Another ding. What do they want now?

Unknown: Yep. It’s you alright. It’s been five or six years, hasn’t it? Meet me outside after work, I want to talk to you.