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some-dr-writings · 4 years ago

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Hajime/Izuru x Childhood Best Friend Reader One-shot: The Ties That Bind

One moment Izuru was sitting in that plain, empty room, hidden away from the world, the next he was suddenly being dragged through those halls, bursting through some door to be blinded by the snow-white world. He was being dragged along by you. Just as always you were a wild card, and because of that, you were predictable. It had been quiet for a month now, so he was expecting you to do something, but breaking him out from that cell so directly instead of sending him a note telling him to do so himself because you were too tired to do it was a first. Still…

“This is boring.” You slowed your pace, a yawn escaping you turned to him. Shivering you hugged him, resting your chin on his shoulder, allowing him to hear the soft humming rumbling deep in your throat. “Then… if that’s that case, why don’t we go on a date?” “A date?” Taking a few steps back he could see your ever droopy eyes, a tiredness that always clouded them, making them almost nonexpressive, yet in that moment he could still see a smile. “Do you not care for your red string?” You were perplexed for a moment before realizing what he spoke of. You just shrugged walking away for the street. “Who cares what a string says, I just wanna have fun with you today. Though if it concerns you, I’m not tied to anyone, it broke.” “Broke?” Now THIS was new. “I’ve never heard of such a thing before.” “…… Mmmmmaybe, but it’s true.” As you climbed up onto the fence that surrounded the school to walk atop it, Izuru looked to his pinkie, his gaze tracing that red ring.

The red string of fate. He knew of it, how the individual or individuals at the other end of the twine was one’s soulmate, a person absolutely perfect for them. He also knew how not everyone had one, like himself... almost… He did have a red string, but it was more like a ring around his finger, there was no extra to lead anywhere, only himself, though there was one section that seemed a bit frayed. He also knew that if a person’s soulmate died the string would either disappear or if there somehow was absolutely no one else compatible it would simply lead to the deceased’s grave, but breaking… what could that possibly mean? After you hopped off the end of the fence Izuru caught you, and just held you close, studying you for a moment before placing you down.

Adjusting your backpack you skipped down the walkway, occasionally slowing your pace and turning around to see Izuru. “Hmm… What to do, what to do.” You had hopped up onto another stone fence, balancing atop it with your arms outstretched, attempting to keep balance even as that wintry wind raced past. “Did you know who your string was attached too?” “My old best friend, Hajime.” Before Izuru could say another word, you disappeared behind the fence, a loud sound of metal crashing followed by footfalls after. Leaping up he managed to grab on and just barely pulled himself up, throwing half his body over it, finding you hopping off a garbage can and dragging yourself onto a roof. “What are you doing?” “Shortcut… I thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiink.” You hummed to yourself as if still mulling over it despite already going through with the idea. And so Izuru followed.

You trotted across snow covered roofs, skipping from one building to the next, occasionally going up a few steps only to go down even more. “What happened to Hajime?” You slowed your pace almost coming to a stop, but not quite. You sat on the edge of the roof, letting your feet dangle off the edge. You wiped those sleepy tears from the corners of your eyes, leaning against Izuru who stood beside you. “I’m… not sure actually. He could be dead, he could be alive, he could be somewhere in-between like… uh…” You yawned, scooching yourself off the roof, landing on another roof, taking a few steps forward in order to keep balance, slipping on the slick ice. You turned around, watching Izuru hop off the roof, landing effortlessly. “maybe a coma, or just asleep? I think I see an’ hear him sometimes, but…” You locked eyes with him, as if doing so would serve as some hint to puzzle out the swirling thoughts in your mind. “it could just be me seeing something that’s not really there… like my mind playing tricks.”

Suddenly that loud whistle sounded, startling the daylights out of you. You looked to Izuru in confusion, him holding you close. “You were going to fall.” “Ooh… Thank you!” You so earnestly smiled, a bright blush flushed on your cheeks, a little giggle escaped you. “Ah~ I feel so giddy right now.” When that whistle sounded again you seemed to notice something. “We should go before we miss the train!” Ripping yourself from his embrace you skipped across the roof reaching the little train station, and with a mighty leap, you landed on the train that had just began to move. Izuru raced after you without a second thought. You just did whatever, but you weren’t dumb. Why did you leap onto a train them? You knew how fast they could get. Were you going to break in or jump somewhere else? But… you just… sat on the train? Izuru sat behind you, letting you lean against him as he held on, keeping the pair of you from falling off.

The loud wind crashed about, and your vision was blurred. Though this was a possibility it was not a likely one, even for you, he was more so expecting that if you were going to hop on a vehicle it would be sneaking onto the bed of the truck. This train… were you perhaps leading him to the beach? It was the most likely option, which was not likely of you, but because it was unlikely for you, you would do that, since you on occasion would do something more likely to spice up not doing the likely things, though it’s not like you were doing it on purpose, you just did whatever you wanted, and it happened to be in this pattern. This was what he tried occupying his mind with on the train ride. His mind kept drifting back to your red string, and your old best friend. What could have happened? For the first time in his life, Izuru was at a complete loss as to an answer. The more he thought on it, the more lost he got, and knowing such an endeavor could drive him mad he tried preoccupying himself with over-analyzing you, but… what happened to your old friend, and why did you look to him for an answer, was it because he reminded you of this Hajime character? This thought process kept going on for several stops till you suddenly leaped off, and Izuru chased after you.

He watched as you took off your shoes, tossing them behind yourself to which Izuru caught. You spun around lightly kicking up the sand by the calm drifting waves. “So it was the beach.” “Yeah… there’s not many people, it beautiful, I think it’s romantic.” “… Did you tell Hajime about your string leading to him?” “No, and I never asked if he knew who his lead to either.” You came to a stop before that bright, crystal clear ocean. The whole world seemed to be at peace in that moment… too peaceful, like something was missing or it was empty. “Huh?” Your companion lifted you off the ground, one arm cradling your shoulders, the other holding your legs up under your knees. “You’ll hurt yourself if you leave your feet out in this cold for too long, let alone if they touch the water.” “… Okay.” You simply leaned into him, snuggling into his shoulder, a bright smile creasing your lips, along with a blush dusting your cheeks. Izuru held on tightly, making sure you wouldn’t run off again. Then he began to stroll along the shoreline. Even if he didn’t care for much, he had to agree that this view was objectively beautiful, many people would likely pay good money for a photo of the moment, but this was one for only you and he to share.

“… Why didn’t you say?...” Looking down to you he found you had fallen asleep… for a moment. “Hmm? Kamukura? You say something?” “Why didn’t you tell Hajime?” “Why I didn’t tell him?” You kept seeming like you were going to fall asleep any moment, your eyes closed, but Izuru could feel your breathing and heartbeat, you were still awake, even if you were fighting to do so. “Hmm… why I didn’t tell him… Well… I’m not sure if I remember… Oh, uh. Maybe if I try remembering him, I’ll remember why.” You shifted yourself, now sitting up in Izuru’s arms, your hands simply resting on his shoulders. You just stared at him for a moment before shaking your head. Then you ran your fingers through his hair, pulling it all back, away from his face. “… Yeah, that’s more like it.”

“Hajime Hinata. He was my best friend for my whole life till he disappeared, and I met you. Even in my earliest memories he was there. When I was little, before I was diagnosed with narcolepsy Hajime and I would sneak out at night and he’d stay up with me, flashlight in hand, protecting me from the dark. I think I only stayed awake then because I was scared of the dark…” A light chuckle bubbled up from you. “One time, the batteries in the light died and we both panicked because we were going for a walk in the park at night, and we had no idea how to get back home without it, so we ended up hiding out in the gymnasium pretending it was our secret base and we had to protect it from the monsters that were coming after us. The moment the sun began to rise we booked it home. We almost got away with it but being little kids, we accidentally let it slip and our parents found out and grounded us… and, uh… Yeah! We, we started sneaking out as retaliation for not getting to sleepover with each other anymore or at least for a while? but us sneaking out was why we weren’t allowed to sleepover anymore. But we were little kids then, so I guess we didn’t completely understand the situation… or we just wanted to be spiteful brats…” You smirked, nodding to yourself and crossed your arms. “Yeah, I think we just wanted to be brats, that feels right… Hmm, but I don’t remember much about any red string back then…”

You stared at Izuru, searching for something, just like before. “Before Hajime moved to Hope’s Peak we lived in a more suburban area. There wasn’t much around, so we’d usually walk or take a train to the big city. There was this one arcade we always went too. We’d spend whole days there sometimes and…. Hmm… I remember as we got older, we started going to restaurants and cafes. We’d also visit museums and the like. Hajime always carried some of my medicine on himself so should I forget it, he could help. I was always sleepy, but around him especially, like I am with you. Hajime was very reliable, and I always felt safe with him. He’d always do all he could to keep me awake, so I wouldn’t miss anything, but sometimes if not much was happening he’d nap with me. It was rarer for me to wake up before him, but when I did, he always apologized. He didn’t have too, but he did anyway, feeling bad for leaving me alone. He wanted to make the most of all the time we had together when I was awake. He told me once that when he was little, he thought I was asleep all the time because I thought the world was boring, so he always wanted to make things exciting or give me a reason to stay with him a little longer, and though he knew that wasn’t the case, he still felt that compulsion. When he didn’t fall asleep, I always felt so safe waking up in his lap or on his chest. Even if others stared and he felt uncomfortable, if it was for me, it was worth it he said.”

Your expression slightly shifted, the subtle jubilation morphing to something… not crestfallen or sad, something more neutral. “Though, as much as he wanted to be with me… I’m not sure when it started but at some point, he stopped being completely with me, some part of him, even very tiny almost minuscule was not there. It was actually today two years ago was the last time I saw him… It was his birthday, and it being New Year’s Day it was rather noisy, so I took him and ran away. The night before I took him on a train so we could go to a less populated place and on the first, we ended up on a beach. We were having a fun time, having extra party supplies like hand fireworks, and party poppers and things from new year’s celebrations. We had a snowball fight in the snow, dared one another to go swimming in the ocean, and things. There I noticed Haji seemed a bit sad so when I asked him what was wrong, he started talking about things I already knew, like how he really wanted to go to Hope’s Peak, how it was his dream, but he wasn’t satisfied. How he wanted to belong there and not just pay to be in the reserve course. And… Ooooooooohhhhhhhh. That’s why.” You pat Izuru on the head. “I remember now!”

A yawn escaped you before you continued to speak. “Haji had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. And I definitely liked him, and I know he liked me back, so I didn’t see the need to tell him about my string. I sometimes thought about it, but… I just didn’t do it. And I knew I never would after that day. He told me about something he swore to me to keep secret, and I still will. I’d never break my promise to him. Basically, what I can say is that he himself couldn’t say much, but he told me that I might never see him again. In the moment I was scared. I thought I should tell him, but… but he wanted to do whatever he was going to do so badly. If I told him, it might stop him, and I didn’t want to stop him, well, I did, but I was scared that if I did, I’d hurt him, and I wanted him to be happy, so I let him go… that night I couldn’t sleep, and I watched as my red string broke and the other end just… withered away… And he became someone entirely new, a guy named Izuru Kamukura. I think at least. I think… I think in a past life you were Hajime, you look so similar, and sometimes I can hear his warmth and kindness in your voice. I don’t know if a part of him still exists in you, but I know he had some part in creating you. But… Your and Hajime’s connection doesn’t matter, you may have his body, but you’re completely different people, like how you’re warm and kind in your own ways. So, don’t you ever dare to think I like you and you are my current best friend because of your connection to Hajime, alright?”

This was new. Izuru was always stone faced, no expressions, yet you could always find the tiniest warmth from him, and now, you could see it, or something at least. He looked up to you, his lips ever so slightly parted, as if he wanted to say something perhaps? He just placed you down and kept staring… before hugging you.

Why was he hurting? Why was his chest hurting so much? And now he felt something on his cheek? Reaching up, he softly gasped, finding tears cascading from his eyes. You were absolutely right in him not being your former best friend, he was someone else… So why did this hurt so much!? He clutched you tightly not caring if you felt how his heart pounded, how it had begun to do so the moment you started speaking of your childhood memories. He felt his throat choking up, his breath tremble. Why was he hurting so much? He had you, his best friend. You were right by his side just as always, so why was he hurting so much, you were here with him!

“I’m… sorry for your loss.” “… it’s okay…” You snuggled into him, unable to keep your eyes open any longer. After wiping the tears away, he took a few steps back. “Hmm? Izuru? You… look different.” “… Is your red string severed?” “Huh?” Though baffled you lifted up you hand. “Yeah… still is.” You yawned, feeling absolutely exhausted and getting frustrated at yourself for doing so, you wanted to say awake and answer Izuru’s possible other questions, but you just couldn’t anymore. “and your other hand?” “Uh… I don’t see anything.” While you were accepting this fading reality, you didn’t notice how your best friend stared at your other hand, tracing a single line that connected from your pinky, to his, the frayed part now connected to this string. Though thin and just holding on by a few threads, it was there.

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transsexualhamlet · 3 years ago

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sherlock holmes reactions part 4 (?) ive lost count already but unsurprisingly ive grown even more attached to him

using this as the cover image because i made him a playlist. cause im awful

no legit this is gonna need a read more because it's SO LONG SHIHEWIESHEFSHIEWHF

Had three mental breakdowns this week and realized i do in fact kin sherlock motherfucking holmes. this does not bode well for anything in my life mentally I've diagnosed him with so many things

Oh boy lol you want the list I think hes autistic (undisputed honestly) plus also adhd but on top of that there's the manic depression and uhhh the bpd lmao I dont even think that's it those are just. the obvious ones

But yeah man's a fucking mess and a shit person but in the same way as me so 👍

Some highlights I thought were very funny:

watson: we are in fact going to be waltzing into a place where people are Shooting People you do not have your gun. this is a problem

sherlock: don't worry watson I have my trusty stick!

watson: visible pain

This clearly happens like every day or so with them

but yeah there were some really honestly sweet scenes with them at the apartment and why am i getting soft over the crusty man being gay

have you considered tho. have you considered them

have you considered sherlock, who usually only plays absolute garbage on his violin serenading watson to sleep when he was tired and in pain and watson being so fucking in love with the man and waxing poetic about falling asleep to his music and waking up to see him fallen asleep on the couch next to him and oh my god them

They're just really sweet together for such a completely dysfunctional couple so much of the time lol I just. Sherlock being like.

Sherlock half of the time: watson you're fucking stupid. no i won't take care of my personal needs stfu. watson get a goddamn life. watson shut up. watson no one cares about your goddamn opinion. no i need to disturb you in the middle of the night it's for science. hey watson mind if i manipulate mansplain malewife

Sherlock the other half of the time: HELLO SIR YOU ARE MY FAVORITE MAN TO EVER MAN HELLO MAY I SPEND THE REST OF MY DAYS WITH YOU HELLO I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU WE ARE PERFECT MATCHES I LOVE YOU AND I NEED YOU YOURE SO MUCH BETTER THAN ME PLEASE MARRY ME

They're... they certainly are.

ALSO OH MY GOD.

THIS ONE TIME WHEN SHERLOCK WAS JUST PACING AROUND THE ROOM AT 3 AM GOING "IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE >:(((" AND HUDSON LIKE BARGED IN TO COMPLAIN AND THEN WATSON WAS LIKE DUDE YOU GOTTA STOP DOING THIS AND PROCEEDS TO SAY THE LINE "YOU ARE KNOCKING YOURSELF UP, OLD MAN"

BAHGHSFHGRHEWHEWHIFEW

BRB SOBBING

CALLING HIM AN OLD MAN???? KNOCKING HIMSELF UP?? I DONT KNOW WHATS FUNNIER

The main highlight of this part was I have now gotten to see him have a great time watching his homo homie get married

Its so fucking funny.......

I was prepared for a funny reaction by yuumori sherlock's face when he said it lol but. Damn i was really not prepared tbh

watson: I'm engaged!

sherlock: *pained groaning*

watson: do you... not like her?

sherlock: no she's fine she's great you'll be wonderful together bUT I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE ARE HETEROSEXUAL WATSON DO I HAVE TO MARRY MYSELF THEN WATSON? ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME MARRY MYSELF.

watson: yeah... yeah... fair, I feel really bad because you did this whole case and I got a girlfriend out of it and all you got was me leaving you alone fuck man im sorry what are you gonna do without me

sherlock, highly sarcastic: dont worry watson I've always got my handy cocaine! *pulls it out and gets high in front of watson just as he's about to leave*

watson: *in fucking agony*

sherlock: good for you!

I DONT EVEN- THIS SCENE KILLED ME MULTIPLE TIMES OVER WHAT

ITS SO GODDAMN NONCHELANT ABOUT IT SHERLOCK IS JUST LIKE YEAH I WILL IN FACT NOT BE MENTALLY HEALTHY IF YOU ARE NOT WITH ME 24/7 BUT WHATEVER YOU DO YOU /S

I'd like to apologize to watson on sherlock's behalf lmao. man is being a bit too codependent on main

The last thing about sign of four I do need to address is yeah, there's the Horrific Amounts Of Racism in that one and the whiplash hearing it is just ridiculous because they seem to be so knowledgeable in all other areas and fairly... politically correct, taking sherlock's original misogyny as a purposeful character flaw, but then they just mention someone indigenous once and suddenly its all parrotting racist propaganda and just... really awful shit. There's no way I'm gonna speak for the group that just got absolutely hate crimed here but anyone can tell the author just has no clue what he's fucking talking about and it's physically painful.

And I don't know, it's just so bad it seems out of character? Doyle's making these motherfuckers say shit that honestly, Sherlock would know better about. And especially Watson. Come on, you cannot tell me watson is mentally capable of being prejudiced against someone. Please do not make him that way.

I'm not sure how to handle it specifically, or what's the proper way I should handle something like that in a media I otherwise like. Is it ok to say Doyle was clearly a piece of shit on the matter and separate those characters from his bias or is that insensitive?

I don't know, I was Not a fan of it and I'm glad to see they've at least finally shut up about the guy

But anyway yeah, uhhhh onto the short stories because I'm trying to read those before I get to the final problem

Scandal in Bohemia was a fucking ride, first of all, before we even get to Sherlock's girlboss arc we have to discuss how gay the whole situation was and how Doyle's attempt at making them less gay failed spectacularly

Like he's all "ah yes I need to marry off watson and uhhh make sherlock ummmm interact with a woman so they dont look gay" but he does it SO BADLY that it makes them look EVEN GAYER

cause i mean, even the conversation they had about watson getting married back in sign of four was gay af, but how Doyle handled things afterward was in no way straighter.

Cause you know, the man kind of wrote himself into a corner with the fact of Watson narrating these stories. So Watson has to be around to witness them, and to witness Sherlock's own thought process rather privately, so he has to be around sherlock at night, a lot. But trying to come up with a reason for that happening just... it didn't occur to Doyle. He just went. Ah yes this makes sense. And it's Watson just like Sleeping Over At Sherlock's like every other goddamn day and every time his wife leaves town and having them basically still live that cute domestic home life but they have absolutely no excuses for doing it anymore. It's quite funny

Like it was gay already the way they interacted when they officially lived together but it was like, a necessity for them. Now it's not, Watson just comes over because he goddamn wants to, and it's hilarious to me.

LIKE IDK I THINK THEY KIND OF BROKE UP FOR A YEAR OR SO BC OF WATSON GETTING MARRIED AND THEY LIKE DONT HAVE CONTACT WITH ONE ANOTHER BUT ONE DAY WATSON JUST INEXPLICABLY HAS THE URGE TO COME VISIT SHERLOCK ON NO NOTICE AND THEN SUDDENLY THEY ARE TOGETHER NEAR 24/7 AGAIN LIKE BARELY ANYTHING CHANGED AHIEHOEWH

SIT DOWN AND TRY TO TELL ME THOSE ARE NOT HOMOSEXUALS

Watson walks in on no fucking notice after a full year and Sherlock is just. In the middle of some experiment obviously but hes like

Sherlock, carrying around unidenfiable chemical mixtures: W A T S O N you look good you look good! i see you've gained seven pounds!!

watson: uh. thanks??? Hey lol *awkwardly waves* Uh um Wanted to Uhm sEe you

Sherlock: ABOUT gODDAMN TIME AND YES WONDERFUL LOOK LOOK SIT DOWN I HAVE THINGS TO INFODUMP ABOUT

watson: :) ok :) *turns to camera* and we were back to the old days

sherlock: makes a deduction

watson: wowwwwwwwwwwww !! so true bestie !!

sherlock: !!!!!!!!! :))) !!!!! :))) uh fuck im supposed to be smooth Its Elementary Lol

watson: *turns to camera* when i stroke his ego like this and compliment him he blushes like a girl like i just complimented his dress so i do it more because he likes it. this is a homie trait

watson: well i should probably get going! my wife will notice that i am gone my dear buddy bro homie!

sherlock: NO DONT LEAVE IM LOST WITHOUT YOU (pretty much a direct quote lol) your. wife doesn't. get back home until monday. I know this because I am smart and definitely have not been stalking you.

watson: alright :)))))

AND THEN HE FUCKING SLEEPS OVER LMAO FUCKING HOMOS

So yeah they're right back where they were before pretty much and there's a case bc of course there is

And honestly I think this short story specifically was so insane mostly just because of how absolutely fast it all went. Yuumori kind of made me believe the original Irene Adler was more of an important character than she really is? And I think that's. Honestly so funny. Motherfucker shows up for ten pages, girlbosses her way around town, and changes sherlock's entire opinion of the female gender while still keeping him gay?

LIKE NO LOL SHES NOT IN ANY WAY A LOVE INTEREST AND WATSON GOES OUT OF HIS WAY TO SPECIFY THE FACT THAT IN NO WORLD WOULD THEY HAVE BEEN ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED BECAUSE. SHERLOCK. DIDN'T DATE WOMEN.

HE WAS JUST??? SO IMPRESSED AND SHELL SHOCKED BY HER EXISTENCE HE DECIDED IT WAS TIME FOR GIRLBOSS APPRECIATION DAY TODAY AND ALL DAYS HENCEFORTH???

AND THEY HAVE LIKE O N E INTERACTION?? God, the power this woman(?) has. Watson looks at her once like. damb shawty 😳 and she's like "no<3" and he's like FUCK

Like yeah it's pretty much just the king walking up like "help girl the whore is blackmailing me" and sherlock being like "ok lol this will be easy" and then it proceeded to not in fact be easy or even possible

sherlock like... posed as a dead body and tried to get her to give up the location of the photo but she out-acted him and skipped the town the next day after doing the 'good night mr. sherlock holmes' thing with sherlock completely tricked

and she just. sends a letter like "dear sherlock holmes. you're a fucking idiot and i think it's funny that you lost. nice job tho mad respect" and sherlock just SHORT CIRCUITS

the king comes back a bit later like "hey Dude where's my Photo" and sherlock's like oh yeah uhhhhhhhhhhh about that and the king is like HOW COULD IT POSSIBLY HAVE BEEN THAT GODDAMN HARD i would have dated someone more noble if she wasn't so pretty i swear im on a whole different level from her

and then. GIRLBOSSIFIED SHERLOCK HOLMES RESPONDS "from what I have seen of the lady, she seems indeed to be on a very different level from your majesty" ABSEHHESHEFHHFES ROASTED

and the dude just LEAVES

After that I read a few more of the short stories and well the highlights I got from that pretty much were these conversations

Watson: sherlock. honey. have you. eaten anything today

Sherlock: IT DIDNT OCCUR TO ME DEAR WATSON

Watson: ITS FIVE PM

and:

Sherlock: *having one of his Moment Moments at three in the goddamn mornig* GRRRR CRIME ISNT WHAT IT USED TO BE

Watson: MY DEAR SHERCOCK WHAT IS CRIME S U P P O S E D TO BE LIKE ACCORDING TO YOU

Sherlock: no one's original anymore fucking copycats

Watson: so you want the criminals to make things harder for you specifically.

Sherlock, exasperated: yes!

I love them your honor.

#rowan's hyperfixation essays #rowan screams into the void #rowan views moriarty #sherlock holmes

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kris-p-banana-bread · 4 years ago

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Here DOAFP fandom, have some organic, locally-sourced, home-grown pain. This is basically just me, a scarred older sibling, projecting on Bobby, another scarred older sibling. I really reached into my post-loss psyche for this, so I hope you enjoy the headcanons and meta (AKA I hope you shed at least one tear).

It won’t let me link it here so the post that inspired this is under the read more at the bottom ✨

- When I first watched doafp, I couldn't understand Elena's aversion to Sam becoming a prominent figure in her mom's and her life. Now I understand it almost too perfectly. There was never supposed to be someone after Robert. He and Gabi were deeply in love and happy. Robert was it; he was the first and true love of Gabi's life. Sam showing up probably felt like a huge and utterly disrespectful slap in the face of Robert's memory, because he wasn't even supposed to be there. I don't know if that's as eloquent as I wish it was, or if it makes sense, and it probably sounds really mean to Sam, but it's not even really about him. It was always supposed to be Robert; Sam hasn’t earned the right to be apart of or associated with her family

- After Robert dies, Gabi and Bobby make it a habit to find and keep photos and recordings/videos of Robert, even if the latter only has him saying one sentence. They won't make Elena join them for the search, but after they find some of those old audios of Robert, they'll sometimes play them back for little Elena

- Bobby put up the keep out sign (I credit this to a few other blogs for discussing this tho) because that's where he would cry sometimes. He actually used to be pretty close with Elena, but after he put up that sign and started distancing himself from them a bit so they wouldn't see the times he cracked, he got a little more short and jaded with her. It's that, plus just growing into a teenager and stuff. And I'm not saying that he and Elena have a bad relationship, but he's become more snappy and has more walls up than he used to

- Sometimes Elena feels bad because she doesn't always remember her dad's voice. She was pretty young when he died, so even though she recalls it a bit, and the recordings help, it's been a while since she's talked to him in person, so of course she doesn't quite remember what it's like to actually talk to Robert and she's forgotten some of his mannerisms. She likes to think she's all done (she marked the stages down in her grief journal after all) but grief isn't linear or all that rational, so it hits her hard sometimes

- I keep reading as an action close to my heart because that's a strong bond me and my mom shared. She would rec books to me, and we would joke and talk about them, or she would hint to some future event and then refuse to tell me until I caught up to that part. So Elena and Bobby do something similar in their grief. Elena has writing and words, because that's something Robert loved if I remember correctly (but if I’m not and that’s not canon, then I now declare it so) and Bobby has tennis. But besides tennis (I sent a couple anons to @freshlybakedfandoms about it but I'm not sure where she went) Bobby also was taught to play guitar by Robert (I liken it to Devi Vishwakumar and her harp) so when he misses his dad or is just sad, he'll take out his dad's old acoustic and strum

- (This next one is something I also think a lot about so this is pretty much 98% projection) Bobby thinks sometimes about the fact that he was never able to come out to his dad. He hadn't really started growing into that part of himself yet, and he never got to show it to his father. He wonders what he would have thought of him. Would he be angry? Would he dismiss him and say it was just a phase? Bobby didn't think so, but a little part of him insisted that you could never be too sure. After he comes out, Gabi and Cami assure him that Robert would've been so proud of him and would've loved him regardless (Since we know virtually nothing about him, I maintain that Robert was one of those dads who teases their kid relentlessly about their crushes and I think he would've done that with Bobby and eventually Elena)

- When Elena's quince rolls around (if she chooses to have one of course), Sam dances with her during the father-daughter dance. A part of her still hurts, still aches and wishes that Robert were dancing with her too; still knows on some fundamental level that he and Gabi had planned for this day, but he had simply never made it. But she's known Sam long enough that she feels comfortable here. Nobody can replace Robert, but Sam is her family, and it feels right like this.

- I might do some more research and deliberate, but for the moment I'm saying that Robert had cancer, I’m thinking along the lines of colon. My mom was terminal, but idk if I should make Robert terminal? Maybe towards the end. Or maybe he was diagnosed as incurable early on but Gabi kept it from the kids because, tbh, being told your parent is balancing on that kind of edge is traumatic for them. So anyways, I’m going on that assumption for this last point, and I’ll see if I can recover some of my old knowledge and talk about technical stuff later if anybody would like to hear it

- Elena and Bobby were both pretty young. Bobby understood about PET scans and tests somewhat, and knew generally what different answers from doctors meant. Elena mainly just understood what was happening by reading her parents' and brother's expressions when getting lab results in from the doctor. They both remember on some level what it was like when Gabi would leave the kids with Cami and take Robert out to the car (later she would have to help him) and they would all feel like they were holding their breath until they got back and confirmed that everything was ok (and later, the little shocks of fear when the answers were no longer as positive and there was more apprehension and risks. After all, cancer doesn’t deal in absolutes)

- Bobby can still remember Robert when he had to stop walking around a lot. He still remembers the phone call that Cami got from his mom, saying that something had gone wrong, and if this last treatment didn’t work, he wouldn’t have much time before he passed. Still remembers Cami rushing into a room when she got that call, and trying to hide what was happening until Gabi could get home and explain it; but Bobby was a sharp kid believe it or not. He heard about the treatment, heard Cami crying. He still had hope... but when Robert came home in a gurney, when he could barely stay awake sometimes, when his voice was quiet and his skin was a little jaundiced, Bobby felt incredibly empty. But Robert always had a smile for his wife and his beautiful kids, even if it was small and very tired, his eyes still crinkled the same. He always had a smile; right up until they had to say goodnight and get some sleep one night. And then... he passed.

- After he passed, the Cañero-Reeds needed help, and a lot of Gabi’s coworkers would bring food or materials if they were running low. Cami and Danielle would babysit and would distract the kids when Gabi needed a good cry.

- Like you’d imagine, and because of what is sort of implied in canon and in my own head, the kids dealt with it in different ways. Bobby put up that sign, and withdrew. He wasn’t awful, but his patience with certain people got a bit shorter and he was a bit quieter. And he was a really good helper when he had the energy and he cared deeply, but he would sometimes get physically and emotionally exhausted after helping Gabi/Elena/Cami/anybody else with something and would go into his room or mentally tap out to recharge. He took comfort in things that seemed natural and that he sometimes took for granted before, like video games and skateboarding (hehe bobby skateboards. Anybody second me on this?) and clothes etc... and other stuff. A lot of materialistic things or experiences that he would skip out on before. But they bring normalcy back to his life now so he loves them for that.

- Bobby doesn’t wanna think about big themes or anything anymore, which I can’t remember but I think it was Vi (freshlybakedfandoms, again, idk where she is and I hope she’s ok) who said he was a math and science person and I think that as much as that could transfer over to those subjects as well, it’s much harder to avoid existential and emotional themes in English and History class and Bobby doesn’t like it as much as Elena does for that reason. He had to live with the back and forth of his dad’s treatments and tests, so math and science is comforting because it’s more concrete (There could be a million arguments for why he would distrust math and science because of his dad’s passing though, I realize) Ultimately, though, it reminds him of Robert too much.

- On the other hand, after a period of shock and confusion, Elena threw herself into new things. First it was a grief journal, to make sure she was going through the motions. Then she read a lot, and when she felt too alone or like she wasn’t doing enough, like she was stagnant, she’d just find something to focus and persevere on again. That feels like her personality type to me; something is wrong so let’s fix it right away. But that could also transfer sort of negatively into “Something feels off or I’m very sad, let’s get this thing done and be productive so we can put off having to confront that but at least we get work out of it” but I could be entirely wrong (this is based off some of my family members and how they dealt with the loss.) And Elena throws herself into history and english because her dad loved it, and she wants to remember more of him. Because she believes words have power and history is a lesson and that’s incredibly interesting for her

#bear talks #doafp #robert cañero reed #bobby cañero reed #gabi cañero reed #elena cañero reed #camila doafp #sam faber #fun times #sorry?#I can write a cute fluffy fic to make up for it #i cri #also sorry if I made these a bit too much about bobby #I just relate to him as the older sibling #I added some more so if it got out of hand I’m sorry #tell me and I can make it neater #my meticulousness might just make myself do that on my own tho

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jedimasterkelly · 3 years ago

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Shit happens when you're a woman. A lot of shit. Bad shit. And a lot of the time, you will run into doctors who do not listen to you. Will not care about you, and will not take you seriously.

This story is about the Great Cancer Scare of 2020.

I was 49, and 3 yrs post menopause. I was pleased about that, as it means no more period ever. I could deal with the occasional hot flashes, and the snapping of necks of anyone who dared bother me. Then in May of 2020, after the pandemic fully hit and the University I work at closed and sent all of us to work from home, I got very sick. Not from Covid, thankfully, but something else. I had started bleeding, and it wasn't menstrual blood. It was bright red and HEAVY. I was filling post-natal pads within 2 hours. I called the Women's Clinic where my OB-GYN lived. They couldn't see me until July. WTF! I called my GP, who got me in on an emergency basis, I mean, 3 yrs post-menopausal women don't just spring a leak, you know? My ovarian function had been almost nil for 3 years. He called my OB-GYN and demanded I get seen right away. They made an appointment for 2 weeks later. Keep reading, because it's quite a ride!

Seriously! 2 weeks later!

In the meantime, my GP discovered my thyroid was tanked out, so I was put on Levothyroxine 25mcg. It helped a lot. I started to feel a little bit more human, at least in the brain area. I finally got in to the OB-GYN, and he did a biopsy and trans-vaginal ultrasound. We got the results 2 weeks later and he called me in to go over them. He said I had hyperplasia with atypia. Cells were dividing rapidly, and he was very concerned. He recommended an endometrial ablation, or a full hysterectomy. At 49 he wasn't concerned with me having a sudden maternal urge (I have no kids), so he was fine with either choice. I decided on the hysterectomy, because why not? Endometrium grows back after an ablation, and why bother at my age? Just yank it all and let me get back to my life.

He said he didn't feel safe doing the procedure, since the cells were most likely cancerous and rapidly dividing, so he sent a referral to one of the cancer centers in OKC. I expected a call within a couple of weeks. I mean, really, if I have the early stages of endometrial cancer, they'd call me in immediately, right? Right?

Crickets. Literal crickets for 4 months! I was very concerned, hell, worried I was going to get full blown cancer and these jackasses weren't going to try and help me at all. I called OB-GYN several times during that 4 month period, and was told the cancer center in OKC wasn't returning their calls. I called them numerous times, and could never get a person on the phone.

I was told it was the pandemic. The pandemic was shutting everything down and causing huge backlogs for non-Covid issues to be seen. I told OB-GYN to refer me to the oncologist from Tulsa, who also worked once a month in Stillwater at the SMC Cancer Center. He didn't want to, he wanted me to see the doctor in OKC (who wasn't returning anyone's calls!) I called SMC Cancer Center and asked how soon I could get in with Dr. Thomas. His office called back within 2 hours asking for my chart and biopsy results. I had the Womens Clinic send my information to Dr. Thomas in Tulsa. Within a week, they called and had me on the schedule to see him in Stillwater on his next visit.

This is where the story gets good. And by good, I mean, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. Thanks for sticking with me this far.

Got in to see Dr. Thomas. I researched him and learned we have the same Alma Mater. That day, we were both wearing t-shirts from said same Alma Mater. Instant bonding! I also work in Administration at said same Alma Mater, so we spent some time discussing (gossiping) about my department since he had taken classes with a lot of my faculty during his undergrad. Then he got serious and handed me my biopsy report. He told me he was going to assume I wasn't shown this, since I am:

1. A Master's of Science graduate student in Education Leadership - this making me a researcher who knows how to do research, do research, and understand research.

2. Work full time in a Physical Sciences department at a Big 12 University.

3. Edit manuscripts for my Dept. Chair, thus proving I am scientifically literate. You can't edit scientific manuscripts without having a good, solid knowledge of said science. If he's alternating between "adsorb" and "absorb", I have to understand his research in order to correct his manuscript. This is important because his manuscripts have to be peer reviewed before they can be published in a reputable journal.

"Read it to me, out loud," he said.

I started reading from the paper in my professional scientist voice. It didn't take long before I began to falter as I came to the realization I had been lied to.

"Read it again," he said.

This time, I read it with a lot more heat in my voice.

Diagnosis: no hyperplasia with atypia, no abnormal cells detected

Dr. Thomas waited for me to explode. I didn't. I just stared at him in anger and horror. He offered to do another biopsy to make sure, but he suggested I fire my OB-GYN immediately and find someone who actually gives a shit about me.

I was still randomly bleeding, 6-9 weeks at a time, so we agreed on another trans-vaginal ultrasound and biopsy. The attached photo shows he took 3 samples from my uterus. He wanted to be sure.

A little ditty about endometrial biopsies:

They hurt like a motherfucker.

Take 2-3 ibuprofen before you leave the house to go to your procedure.

Relax. It usually only lasts a couple of minutes. The doctor normally takes 1 or 2 samples. Pinch, snip, clip, done.

Not this guy. He wanted to be surely sure.

He went for a 3rd pinch snip clip. My uterus seized up in the most painful spasm I ever had in my life. I almost came off the table. He was seated on a little rolly stool so he shot back away from me before I could connect his head to my foot. He triumphantly held up his little weapon of Uterine Destruction and declared, "Got it!"

"Yeah, you almost got your ass kicked mister," I growled at him.

"It was worth it to get this beauty of a sample."

So, after a biopsy of your uterus, expect some bleeding and cramping. I had severe cramps for 2 days. I was not amused. We're talking laying in bed with a heating pad and ibuprofen every 4 hours kind of cramping.

Got the results back in a couple of weeks. No cancer. No hyperplasia. No abnormal cell growth. He recommended I find a new OB-GYN fast. I decided fuck it, I'm done. I'm never seeing another OB-GYN ever again.

Dr. Thomas said several times he's convinced my issues are endocrinal. I filed that away in the back of my mind.

(if you ever do test positive for cancer and you are in the Tulsa area, I highly recommend Dr. Eric Thomas! Make sure you have a sense of humor with him.)

My GP started pressuring me back in March of 2021 to find a new OB-GYN. The Women's Clinic has several, but they have a fucked up rule you can't switch doctors there. So if you go there, you are stuck with the same doctor and can't move over to his colleague on another floor. I saw my GP again, and asked if he was still best buds with a gynecologist who had his own clinic. He was always full, and not taking new patients, so GP would have to call his buddy to get me in.

Which he did. Buddy-GYN's office called the very next day to schedule me in. He had been sent my chart and was concerned about the long bleeds (6-9 weeks in duration) and why the fuck were they happening after being 3 yrs post-menopause.

I went in for a consult in April of 2021. First thing out of his mouth, "Has anyone ever talked to you before about PCOS?"

I laughed.

I laughed because every GYN I saw over the last 20 years told me I didn't have PCOS, endometriosis, or any sort of hormonal issues. I was just fat, lazy, and a piggy pig pig. I actually had one OB-GYN tell me to go on The Biggest Loser. Fat shamed while sitting there naked on his table after an invasive exam of my female bits. Thanks a lot, asshole.

I told him about that. He informed me he could tell by LOOKING at me I have the classics signs of PCOS. I use an epilator on my crazy man-hairs, so he asked if I was tweezing or waxing. I about fell out of my chair. Nobody ever believed me that I was having to remove crazy thick hairs off my chin and neck all the time. He asked if I ever had ovarian cysts. Affirmative, I was diagnosed with ovarian cysts the first time one exploded back in 1994. He stood there, holding the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"Well, going by your chief complaints, your abdominal circumference, history of bursting cysts, and no period for 3 years, I am saying you have PCOS."

He went on to discuss my need for an appointment with an endocrine specialist, he was convinced my thyroid tanking out sent my ovaries back into production, and now my hormones are all over the place, most likely, and I needed specialized care.

He must have talked to GP, because I soon got a call from the endo clinic to come in.

This post is already long and tedious, but I am happy to say I finally have 3 doctors who listen to me. My new Endo doc tripled my levothyroxine and scheduled a follow up blood test for next month. Buddy-GYN talked me into a pap smear and cervical exam in July as well. He also wants a mammogram, which I begrudgingly need to schedule so he doesn't chew my ass in July when I walk in with no results. GP is working on my other issues (weight, bad fluid retention, etc...). We discovered from a blood test last Friday my iron levels are dangerously low. I am now on a Rx iron supplement. I've always struggled with anemia, but it never occurred to me or GP to check my iron levels. If you're a woman, and you feel like absolute dog shit and your doctor can't figure out why, have your iron and electrolytes tested. It'll probably take about 3-4 weeks for me to see any results from the iron supplement, but I can already see a reduction in fluid retention.

In September, I have an appointment with Dr. Le at Integris in OKC. He's a bariatric surgeon. I have gained so much weight from having PCOS and Hypothyroidism that I need to drop a lot of fat fast. I'm pretty healthy - I don't have the normal problems obese people tend to have. I'm not diabetic, don't have sleep apnea, my cholesterol levels are good. I am what they call "healthy fat" which seems like an oxymoron. However, it will improve my chances of getting approved for a sleeve gastrectomy.

I turned 50 last week, and had to endure 3 decades of no one listening to me. I feel I lost so many years of my life and I can never get them back. I hope this post reaches a lot of younger women having issues. Keep looking for a doctor who will listen to you. It sucks we have to hunt for these unicorns, but they do exist. I finally have a good team who actually cares about me.

You have a right to be listened to! You have a right to be heard!

I was asked: Who are my doctors?

Dr. Daniel Brown D.O. Stillwater Physicians Clinic

Dr. Yasuto Taguchi M.D. Taguchi Women's Clinic

Dr. Wynter Kipgen M.D. Stillwater Diabetes & Endocrinology

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royalnugget42 · 4 years ago

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SPN is ending

And here’s my take on how it will go down, based on the limited knowledge we have. Please be aware that these are not foolproof predictions. Title analysis can only get you so far, and some of the titles are vague enough that they could mean just about anything. Still I’d like to try my best to predict the narrative based on how I would go about it and based on the vague references.

I’ll go episode by episode, include as many details as I can reasonably add, and try to keep my Destiel shipping goggles off as much as possible. Buckle up.

First one is pretty easy. Episode 14, “Last Holiday” promises to be kind of literal, with a mysterious figure appearing and giving Jack, Sam, and Dean the holidays they missed out on. However, I was curious, since Supernatural has a habit of including obscure or not so obscure references in their titles, if there was any other thing we could correlate this to.

There is actually a movie called “Last Holiday” starting Queen Latifah, whose character is diagnosed with a terminal illness, which results in her making the decision to abandon her boring life and live like a millionaire in Europe.

The idea of the fight with Chuck being a “terminal illness” on the horizon could be why now is the best time for these guys to live it up.

This possible reference coupled with the ‘last’ seems to say that this episode will be a sort of final moment of levity before the endgame. Past this episode there be monsters, lads. I’d also like to point out that since it will be just Jack and the brothers if the promo photos are anything to go by, this will be a good time to get in some forgiveness and family bonding for our characters before things go downhill again.

Looking at promo photos for this episode again, I’m not sure where, but the episode may also carry some development for the plot. I’m not sure whether the photos of Cas, Amara, and Charlie were for this episode or another one (since they are not listed as cast members for the episode on IMDb), but we’ll be seeing all of them again soon it looks like, and I can’t wait for Cas and Jack to go on a hunt together again.

This episode will be the beginning of the descent. We’re standing on the edge and staring into the void, and we’re about to take the plunge. How do I know this?

“Gimme Shelter”, the title for this new episode, seems to have a literal meaning of the characters continuing to try to hide from God. However, as usual, the title is also a reference, this time to a song by The Rolling Stones. The lyrics to said song are nice and foreboding.

Oh, a storm is threat'ning

My very life today

If I don't get some shelter

Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Ooh, see the fire is sweepin'

Our very street today

Burns like a red coal carpet

Mad bull lost its way

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Rape, murder!

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away (3X)

The floods is threat'ning

My very life today

Gimme, gimme shelter

Or I'm gonna fade away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away (4X)

I tell you love, sister, it's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away (5X)

Kiss away, kiss away

Cue nervous anticipation

This is definitely where things are going to really pick up plot wise. Most likely, more will be revealed about Billie’s Plan to Kill God TM. Although, the idea of Death herself leading the Winchesters to victory feels sketchy to me still. She is deliberately withholding all the details, and she’s doing it for a reason.

Something down the line is going to make the Winchesters angry with her, and she’s not going to tell them about it unless it’s absolutely necessary. I have a feeling what it is will get revealed in the next episode.

“Drag Me Away (From You)” has some very clear negative connotations, and on top of everything has a weird format. It could be based on the lyric from Africa by Toto, ‘it’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you’, or a reference to the song “Drag Me Away” by Melissa Etheridge, whose lyrics mention angels, and are about resistance and perseverance, two defining characteristics of the Winchesters. However, I’d like to point out another correlation.

Like I said before, the title has a weird format. The only other episode of Supernatural with a similar title to this one is season 12 episode 12 “Stuck in the Middle (With You)”. That episode was about what seemed like a normal hunt, but was actually a mission for Mary by the British Men of Letters to get the Colt. In that episode, Cas came ridiculously close to dying a painful and slow death, which does not bode well for this episode if it’s correlated in any way.

If what I’m predicting for Billie’s plan is true, this episode will be where the viewers are clued in on the thing she won’t tell the Winchesters about. The brothers might not necessarily get clued in (like how they still hadn’t realized Mary’s involvement with the BMOL at the end of 12x12), but whatever Billie is withholding will have serious consequences.

For this episode, I predict that Cas will come absurdly close to death again, because I believe Billie’s plan involves him dying. Billie doesn’t consider Cas a member of TFW. Multiple times in the most recent episodes, she talks about how important Jack is, how important the Winchesters are, but never Cas, and it feels like a weird oversight.

“Ever since I got this new job, I stand witness to a much larger picture. You know what I see? You. And your brother. You’re important.” 13x05 “Advanced Thanatology”

“I told you Dean, you and your brother have work to do.” 15x12 “Galaxy Brain”

Surely Cas has a part to play, since he’s one of the main characters right? But Billie doesn’t trust Cas, as well she shouldn’t. Cas is a wildcard, an angel who doesn’t do as he’s told. He straight up stabbed her in the back, something that she was completely caught off guard by.

I could make an entire post about how Cas hasn’t played by the rules of the universe since season 4 episode 18 “The Monster at the End of This Book”, but I digress. The point is that this episode is probably going to shed some light on the true threat the team is facing. Which leads us into...

17-18

Here’s where things start to get muddy. The titles from this point on get vague, and without any solid information about the previous episodes, these could be headed anywhere.

“Unity” is the next episode, number 17, and that could mean a lot of things. In my proposed timeline it is after a supposed revelation about Billie’s plan, so maybe they feel more unified after learning it.

In Supernatural‘s usual story structure, though, it feels like this episode will probably be the buildup to what seems like the end of the villain, but will actually be the darkest hour.

The episode following right after this is titled “Despair” and I think that’s telling. Supernatural writers do this often, where the boys make a plan, and inevitably when they follow it something goes wrong. “Unity” is the plan being made and carried out, and “Despair” is either the episode where everything goes wrong, or the aftermath.

[EDIT: The title of episode 18 is actually “The Truth”, which I believe may still narratively serve the same purpose, but now I’m more convinced that this is where the Winchesters learn about Castiel’s deal and/or something that Billie has been keeping from them about the plan to kill God. Thank you to @kingofthecrossroads for the updated information.]

Before I go into detail about this two-episode arc, an obligatory

Warning: Shipping Ahead

To my eyes, “Unity” seems like the perfect place for Castiel’s arc to reach a breaking point. If I’m right, and this is the episode where everything seems to succeed, then what better time for The Empty to snatch Cas away from his happiness.

If I was a writer, and I was in fact planning on making Destiel canon, this is where I’d do it. It makes the most sense to have Dean and Cas finally realizing their love for each other be the catalyst for Cas “finally giving himself permission to be happy” especially if this episode also contains a false climax regarding the Chuck storyline. Cas has said multiple times that he’s “far from happy”, so there has to be something huge happen for Cas to get there. Not to mention, Cas would be a sort of vessel for the audience, simultaneously happier than we’ve ever been because we were finally right, and sadder than ever because Cas is gone.

“Despair” won’t just be despair that the plan failed. It could also be Dean’s despair at losing Cas, our despair at seeing our hopes for them dashed.

[EDIT: Again, the title will NOT be “Despair” it will be “The Truth”, but I still think it’s telling that Despair was a working title for long enough that it’s on the IMDb page, and if “The Truth” contains the truth about how Dean and Cas feel about each other, then this will still be a dark episode.]

Shipping over, let’s continue.

Now we come to another referential episode, “Inherit the Earth”. There’s really not enough information to have anything solid regarding the nitty gritty details, but we can take a look at what this title is most likely referencing. “Inherit the Earth” is just a tiny part of a common phrase. It’s used in media all the time, but we’re interested in the original source.

I’m not sure if the episode will contain references to all the pieces of this passage from the Bible, but “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth” seems to build off of the last episode, “Despair”. Another translation for the word meek in this instance may have been “powerless”, and after the negative moments in the previous episode TFW would probably feel pretty powerless. Maybe, in the previous episodes, Jack failed and lost his powers again, and that’s what caused Despair, but now he will inherit the powers that God had, or inherit control of earth.

If the rest of the passage is to be taken into account here, there’s also the “poor in spirit” who will ascend to the “kingdom of heaven”, possibly a reference to Cas being depressed and fighting for Heaven to be maintained. “Those who mourn will be comforted”, and that may actually bode well for Sam and Dean, who constantly mourn for the friends they’ve lost. Maybe in this episode they’ll get some closure on that front, maybe with their friends trapped in Hell going to Heaven (Kevin). The next line after “inherit the earth” refers to “those who hunger and thirst for righteousness”, and if that isn’t Michael/Adam to a T...maybe this will be the episode we see him team up to fight God. I’m not sure who the last line might refer to other than Sam, if you have any ideas feel free to tell me.

And after all this, we have the big one.

“Carry On” is referring to “Carry On My Wayward Son” by Kansas, and I don’t have a clue what it will entail. If the previous episode goes well, then this will be a sort of epilogue, with a (hopefully) happy ending for TFW, maybe we see Eileen and Sam get together, some kind of family dinner with Jody and the girls to resolve that plot line, or potentially, if the writers plan on doing it, a scene confirming Destiel.

It’d be interesting if they showed the brothers going on a normal, run-of-the-mill hunting trip, like a simple salt-and-burn, or even a (different) woman in white. It would be a nice way to bookend the story, to end on a hunt, but instead of the brothers on their own, it’s the brothers with the help of everyone they’ve come to know and care about in their journey, all the lives they’ve touched.

If, however, the conflict is not resolved by the end of the previous episode, this could be the resolution and epilogue all rolled into one, though if it were me I would want as much time as possible to resolve any lingering character questions because, at the end of the day, Supernatural has survived because of the characters. They are what people stay for, what they watch for.

Reminder that all of this is speculation. I do not know what will happen, this is just how I think the story could progress based on what we know so far.

For better or for worse, at this point Supernatural will be over. Will they do a perfect job? Probably not. This is Supernatural, it’s not the most perfect show. However, I’m excited to see where the writers will go with it. They have their work cut out for them.

[EDITED]

#spn #supernatural #supernatural theory #spn theory #spn s15 #spn season 15 #spn 15x14 #spn 15x15 #spn 15x16 #spn 15x17 #spn 15x18 #spn 15x19 #spn 15x20 #saileen #spn 15x12 #destiel #i tried not to let it influence me #hope this is coherant

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lonely-queen · 3 years ago

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moving on - a short personal essay

Revisiting tumblr just for having a platform that allows more characters than twitter so here we go!

2 months ago (today - 27th July 2021) not for the first time I moved to a new home. And not for the first time it had been my own 4 walls now. From late 2017 till May 2021 I used to live in a shared apartment along with 2 other girls. I personally closed the acta of these persons and deleted them from my life. So I have no words left wasting for them.

The phrase “To delete” certain things outside of the internet-world is actually my key message already. With my move I closed many doors even, tho, if I wanted to or I had to for peace of my mind. I broke up with the chapter of my old life constantly living in compromising and holding back what’s important for me. I am not afraid of telling the harsh truth and my honest thoughts, because - let’s be honest - I’m not into sweet talk hoping my fellows understand a problem that way.

For Example: One chapter that got hashly interrupted was the friendship between my former neighbor. The reason I could’t move on as there was nothing is because he knew combining the room mates situation, COVID-19, fear or keeping the job etc. caused a lot of pressure and stress for me. He constantly gave me the reason being a second-class friend without realizing. Even after we’ve spoken about that he didn’t get it. The very last situation we were into, he offered me helping out for my move. So I told him if he can spare a little of his time just for carrying my possessions into the truck I’m good. Saturday, the 1st of May came and there was no single sign of him until... He sended me a picture. It was a selfie of him standing in front of my truck accompanied by the words “Oh so sad you’re moving away”. There was never the intention of actually helping me because he was going to meet his more-prefered-friends and he actually switched my words by saying “You never asked me to help you” even, tho, he offered it to me.

Actually the fact that I explain this anecdote that detailed shows I’m still lying to myself: I haven’t ended this chapter yet. I, again, pretend to not care.

So I asked myself why am I that deeply connected to people I know it’s not worth it? My parents told me it really isn’t worth it and it shouldn’t affect my emotions that hard.

I’ve been talking to my Mother, who has been diagnosed with burn out and depression back in 2018 and she guided in herself into psychiaric supervision. She has a lot of things to let go herself. I somehow got the feeling of looking in a mirror. So we’ve been talking to one of the specialists she knew from that establishment.

They were telling me there is a chance of a deep sitting depression based in our genetics since we show certain similarities. The thing is I stopped that right there. Yes, maybe I should keep talking to psychologists but I’m avoiding talking about such things. I think, by starting a new life, like I did in my new apartment, helps to improve.

What else I am doing? I was told it helps keeping the mind busy. I almost every day go to the gym so I can listen to upbeat songs and almost every night I take quiet walks because the next other thing I’d do is laying fetal positioned in my bed crying. So instead I go home exhausted, go to sleep, wake up for work and repeat. Also living my creative mind as much as I can by creating the things I like... Not only sketches or photos. But, well, even writing things down. Still I’d say every other week I have episodes of feeling myself so heavy I can barely move. I try to balance these things like rain and sun and I jut deal with this as it belongs to me.

The Moral: Since Covid started I’ve been through a roller coaster of joy and the absolute opposite. I can build stress and pressure caused by persons I cannot stand. So for a while I’m not afraid anymore of blocking people out of my life. And seriously it feels so much better not able seeing people giving me bad vibes and even more pressure on instagram or facebook (however I’m not actively using facebook, so that’s the most healthy way). And I’ve learned how to do the same with people around me and I keep working on it.

My very last words are you, yes You! Just keep up with the favourite things you like to do. Either it’s collecting toys or creating artworks or whatever. Things you enjoy doing makes live enjoying much easily either.

For now I have nothing more to say. xxR

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mendesficsxbombay · 5 years ago

Text

send noods (II) | s.m

part 1 here

only took me about 8 years to complete this haha (more like 2 months but you get it) this is the longest fic I have written so far (over 6K what it do baby!!) I hope you like it!

Shawn silently shuts the door to her room after making sure she’s safely fallen asleep, well fed and high on “wormies” (Stomach worm medicines. Zahra Ameen shortens things as she likes to, and you are expected to accept that.) He hadn’t bothered a lot with his phone since he got here, so when he pulls out his phone to finally check it, he’s not surprised to see the flood of notifications. The only people who really needed to know where he was were his mom, Zahra, and Zachary, his roommate. “Zach” for short, “whiteboy supreme” for Zahra.

His fingers danced across the screen typing back replies to each of his project partners for their assignments due in the following weeks. She really couldn’t have chosen a worse time to fall sick because their mid terms were around the corner, a truck load of assignments lined up for both of them, and he’s thinking of ways he can probably do some of her stuff so she has lesser work to get back to when she recovers. Recovers, he thinks to himself as his mom’s words ring through his head. “She has a bug, baby, she’s not diseased, and she’s a strong girl and I need you to be a strong boy right now.” He silently huffs to himself because what does his mom know anyway? (everything.) He decides to quickly dash out and grab his laptop and notes over to her room so he can stay with her and work at the same time.

He shoots her roommate a text about going back to his dorm and runs out. Back in their room, Zach silently watches Shawn pack his things like he’s preparing for exile. His laptop, chargers, notes for 3 different courses, his nighttime face cream, a towel, a power bank, a sanitiser is tossed in and he’s pretty sure he sees a his family photo thrown in somewhere.

“Got everything you need, Shawnie?” Zach walks over and throws his arms around him from the back, clutching him tight. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Shawn lets out a yelp as Zach becomes dead weight on him, forcing him to fall face first onto the bed, both now laying flat on what once was a pile of Shawn’s belongings. “Zach you know I can’t pack with you playing dead ON me, right? Move, jackass.”

Zach rolls over, propping his head up on one hand and continues to observe him, “you know I’ve noticed a few things about you, these days, Shawnie. And in my expert opinion I would like to diagnose you with a serious case of unrequited love, the subject in case being a girl currently diseased and lying in her bed high on wormies while you pack to move in with her-”

“I’m not moving in with her-”

“Interrupting is bad manners, you know? As I was saying, you are packing to move in with her, and I highly doubt she feels the exact same way about you, bro.”

“Okay, Zach. Get to the point, what do you mean, here?”

“See, I just don’t see her doing the same for you! If it weren’t for her staying over with you for your regularly scheduled, uh, activities, I would say that she wouldn’t come over at all! It’s always you going to her! Don’t you see that? It’s one sided!”

Shawn was still staring at him with a blank expression, still not sure where this whole conversation was going. “Zach, I need you to try and make more sense. I know it’s hard, but please.”

“Shawn, Zahra only has to breathe in your direction for you to be all heart eyes for her, like someone just says her name and you start blushing,” and unfortunately for him, he did start blushing again, “SEE? Shawn, full offense, I think you’re whipped trash and she’s just - not. I don’t think she feels as much as you do, and it’s really cute that you want to wait hand and foot on her, but it’s not reciprocated!”

Shawn looks away, unsure of how to tell him that it is, in fact reciprocated. They had talked their feelings out when they went home for winter break, made love till they couldn’t anymore and then talked some more and fucked some more. It was taken care of, Zahra Ameen was in love with him, too and they weren’t even dating yet.

“It is, actually,” Shawn starts.

“It’s what?”

“Reciprocated.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“When we we went back home.”

“She told you she likes you?”

“She told me she loves me.”

“She told you she loves you?”

“Yes.”

Both of them took a moment to just look at each other, Zach getting pensive, until he flung a deodorant at him. “She told you she loves you A MONTH ago and you didn’t tell me?”

Shawn ducks just in time, the bottle landing somewhere behind him. “We’re barely learning to say it ourselves, Zach, it’s not exactly meant to be advertised right now,” he was exasperated, he’d been through the same cycle with his friends before, as had she with hers. People didn’t understand their dynamic, and they didn’t expect them to. They’d grown from being close to closer at their own pace and all while being exclusive without even trying, they were good at being them and there wasn’t ever a time they needed validation from anyone else. “And even if we did you guys would start grilling us for not dating and being in love, why am I meant to-”

“Hey, hey Shawnie listen,” Zach steadies him by holding his shoulders down, “I’m happy for you, bro, if you’re happy with her then I’m happy too, I was only worried because you were all in, you know? And I don’t want to see you get hurt man, you know what I was like after Rachel last year.”

“You saw Rachel for 3 days and decided you were in love with her without talking to her and she’d had a boyfriend for months before that, Zach I’m not sure how that counts as heartbreak…”

“What are you? The heartbreak police? I’m telling you, I was in a one sided relationship-”

“It was NOT a relationship, Za-”

“What did I tell you about not policing me, Shawn? Now, glad we decided to have this conversation, I’m glad both of you are equally whipped for each other, you need to pack up and get to her dorm before she wakes up or else - I don’t know man I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Shawn snickers lightly, taking in how Zach was actually disturbed at the thought of Zahra screaming at him for messing around with her a few weeks ago. Shawn and Zahra had a few ground rules. One of them being they never left the other sleeping in bed without telling them where they went - this way they never had to wake up alone, wondering where the other went. Waking up alone after not going to sleep alone was one of Zahra’s deepest fears, and she’d had a hard time communicating that to absolutely everyone except Shawn. She’d rambled on and on about the why and how before he simply said, “Don’t leave you alone in bed. Got it.” And so, a few weeks ago when Shawn went to shower and Zahra woke up without him, Zach told her he left for the day and didn’t want to wake her up. She was a second away from crying when Shawn came out of the shower and kissed her good morning. That was when she physically launched herself at Zach for making her believe he truly left her after she told him not to.

Goes without saying that Zach had been afraid of messing with her, avoided her for a week straight right after the incident and promptly left the flat as soon as she came over all other times. Zach still grumbled as Shawn continued packing proceeding to catching him in a headlock and pressing down on the visible hickey she must’ve left on him the last time she came over. Shawn pushed him away whining about “how many times have I told you not to do that, you absolute fuck?” and received a loud, “if you’re so sensitive why don’t you ask her not to?”

And we all know that would never happen.

Another 10 minutes and Shawn had taken everything he thought he would need, Zach still not leaving his side.

“You got your dorm pass?”

“Yes”

“Library card?”

“Yes”

“Vitamins?”

“Yes”

“Condoms?”

“Ye- why would I need those? Are you out of-”

“You’re going to see the one person I know who loves the deed more that you do, just figured you need them at hand.”

“She’s practically an invalid right now, get your mind out of the gutter, Zachary”

“Hey I’m just saying I can’t take the responsibility of being a godfather anytime soon, bud.”

“Good thing you won’t be one, then.” Shawn pulled out his phone to check if she had woken up and texted him after seeing the sticky note he left on her bedside, but his heart stuttered a bit seeing her last texts to him.

Babiest to shawny boy : (3:11 pm): feeling icky tbh but i had a rly cute guy come over to nurse me back to life

Babiest : (3:11 pm): he is the greatest souper on the world

Babiest : (3:11 pm): soup maker?

Babiest : (3:11 pm): might just fuck around and wife him up while you’re not watching. Love u

Did anyone go over to her’s while he wasn’t there? Not to brag, but he’s makes the sickest soups he knows, how could someone except his mom and her mom possibly come close to the absolute delicacy that is his world famous noodle soup? Why would she want to wife- I mean, be with someone else when he exists? And they exchanged the L word pretty recently, too, or did she not mean it? Why would she say it if she did not mean it? And if he’s honest, she does deserve the world, and he’s willing and ready to give it to her but if she wants it from someone else, who was he to stop her? He would wish it was him though. It always felt like it was.

He continued staring at the texts till Zach snapped him out of it, and he blinked away tears he didn’t know he had. “Hey, can you read these?”

He handed his phone over and continued pacing around the room, constantly running running his hands through his hair, biting his nails, just to have an outlet. Zach bit his lip reading the texts, unsure of how to respond. He wasn’t there when this went down, how was he to know if she was talking about Shawn or someone else?

“Bro, do you think there’s someone else?”

“I don’t know, I think…,” Shawn looked away, not wanting to cry when he doesn’t know anything for sure and definitely not wanting to do it in front of Zach because he was the easiest crier he knew. One person composing themselves is better than two of them losing it. The energy in the room had shifted in the matter of seconds. The airy, playful banter was gone as quick as it came, signs of possible heartache hanging over both of their heads now. Their friendship worked in funny ways, sometimes. Zach took on responsibility as quick as he could, and Shawn could let go of his voice of reason for Zach’s sake at any given point. If what both of them were thinking did turn out to be true, it would be the first time Shawn would have to wear his heart on his sleeve rather than the other way around.

“You can say whatever you want, you know that Shawny,” he sighed, looking back down at the texts. “We don’t judge around here…”

Shawn didn’t face him for a bit. He couldn’t and he didn’t want to. He continued crossing the length of his room while Zach resumed his spot on the bed, watching him intently. A few more rounds and he came to halt abruptly in front of him, eyes red from not crying, it’s a thing that happened to him. He let out a sounded that felt something like the air was choked out of him and he’d been punched in the gut.

“She told me she loved me, Zach.” And Zach started crying, and Shawn was about to join in until his ring tone cut them off.

It was Zahra calling.

__________________________

Zahra sighed for the third time in 5 minutes, she was having a hard time finding relevant information for Shawn’s next research paper. Her eyes were strained now and the pads of her fingers felt scratched into after working on her laptop’s touch pad for so long. Her hands uncovered her face and lay flat on the table in front of her as she leaned forward to stare at the screen as if that would make things fall in place together. She felt a finger link with her pinky, a soft, tired smile growing on her face as his thumb ran across the back of her hand. Shawn had a few nervous ticks, the easiest to ground him was through physical contact, easier so when she was around. Zahra flipped her hand over slowly, letting his fingers intertwine with hers, seeing him furrow his eyebrows over a particularly hard piece of writing and thinking of how quick the library matron would shoo them out of there if she just leaned over and gave him a few kisses, not many, just a few. She spared a glance around the relatively empty section they had found, and decided that loving on her boy for a bit was more important at the moment than having a secluded working environment.

She leaned closer, pulling him in by the side of his face to pepper kisses across his temple down to his cheeks. She felt his cheeks grow into a smile under her lips, a soft, “I’m trying to concentrate, baby,” coming through. “You work too hard,” she mumbled, finally pulling his face her way and kissing him for real. He reacted naturally, pressing down on her chin so she’d let him kiss her as he pleased, rubbing his thumb across her cheeks now.

It was her turn to smile as she felt his tongue pad across her lower lip, pulling away slightly to brush his nose against hers. Another Shawn and Zahra thing. She leaned back in, mirroring Shawn’s actions and swiping her tongue against his lip softly, keening as she heard him hum softly. He caught her chin again, but to lightly pull away this time.

“Control yourself, Ms. Ameen, we’re still in the library and your membership could be revoked if someone caught you engaging in such a lewd act,” he grinned lightly, pecking her one last time before getting back to work.

“Lewd act? Really? As if this is the worst we’ve ever done,” he tries to shush her but she continues anyway, “Remember when we went behind the bleachers after your game last ye-”

“Shut up, Zahra, honestly,” it was his turn to blush furiously, “don’t you have a paper to finish?”

“Your paper, you mean?” She rolls her eyes at him and he’s endeared to no end, really. As she slips her hand back into his, laying her flat on the desk before her presumably to take a break, his heart feels slight pangs that turn to jabs till he thinks he probably cannot breathe anymore. The day he read the texts, he went over to her house anyway, and there’s a lot of things Shawn Mendes was capable of but staying away from Zahra Ameen was not one of them. So he’d gone over, hugged her and kissed her like he always did and promptly ignored her when she giddily asked him if he got her texts.

Her face fell when he chose not to answer her, and she’s not used to not getting a reply from him so she pressed a bit more till he brought in the remaining soup for her to finish and go back to sleep. He knew they were coming to an end, sooner than he expected, and he actually didn’t expect this at all. An unfortunate part of him believed they were it, they were endgame, they were each other’s “ult faves” as Zahra said. All good things come to an end, though, and as much as he wished it was him and her at the end, he couldn’t dream if holding her back from anything. Maybe a better love was in store for her, and the least he could do was let her have it, the most he could do was hold onto whatever they had until she told him the truth.

He didn’t stop with the hand holding or the kisses or the I love you’s, and to his misery neither did she. If anything she became softer around him, killing him inside all while holding his hand. He thought it was just a way to make the blow softer, whenever the blow eventually comes.

And now a week later as she held his hand under a desk in their university library, he wishes he had tried talking to her about it on the same day. It would spare him the pain of holding her hand and thinking it’s the last time he’ll ever get to do so, it was exhausting to constantly think of each time as their last.

He looked up from their hands to see Amisha walking over, nudging Zahra to sit up and greet her classmate. She rubbed at her eyes, reminding him to get the mock papers he was supposed to refer to while writing his own. Shawn pulled away, grateful for the distance all of a sudden as he saw her get out of her seat for the first time in over 2 hours, hugging Amisha and catching up softly, keeping their voices to a whisper.

He thumbed through the piles of papers available to him, picking out a few randomly and signing in his name on the counter. At times he was grateful Zahra forced him to get a library card and then forced him to study with her endlessly because he had grown to love the place. As he walked back his tennis shoes made a light thwack sound against the marble of the surprisingly dead room, focusing back on Zahra.

Amisha and Zahra had lots in common. They picked the same Majors, same Minors, happened to be the only two second year’s on the debate team and shared their heritage being two of the many Indian girls on campus. Amisha had also learned of how much Zahra loved their campus library, and made sure to her rounds each time she came in in hopes of running into her.

Zahra spoke animatedly about falling sick the previous week and as Amisha asked her if she’d started working on her own research papers due soon. “I have! I promise, just let me finish my boyfriend’s and I’ll get back to mine for reals,” the answer would’ve gone on for longer had they not heard a pile of something fall behind them, disturbing the silence around them.

Shawn’s heart was in his mouth and his hands shook even after the papers slipped through. Boyfriend? Things had gotten to a point of Zahra having a boyfriend and she still let him kiss her?

“You okay, Bub?” Zahra rushed over, helping him get his precious mocks into one pile again and raising her brow when he didn’t reply, just stared at her dumbly. “Shawn?”

“Hey um, we have class beginning in 10 and the walk is usually takes us 15 so…” Zahra looked back at Amisha who looked ready to break into a sprint if she said the word.

She nodded to the door and Amisha took the signal and left with her bookbag as Zahra frantically packed her own stuff, starting to throw instructions at Shawn for his remaining assignments, things like “I’ll email you the final design by tonight” and “we’ll finish your report writing by tomorrow” and “I’ll see how your business prof doesn’t give you the highest grade after seeing the model we’re working on, babe.”

dontcrydontcrydontcry he chanted in his mind, still not sure of what to tell her or how to react, the jabs felt in his heart again. She finally turned to him, cupping both his cheeks and pressing one long kiss to his lips, enough for him to make it through the day usually but right now, it didn’t feel like he’d make it through the next minute.

“We’re gonna crush this sem, baby,” she grinned, her eyes sparkling before she turned around and ran out after Amisha. He wasn’t sure if it was her leaving or the wind just not finding place in his lungs but his poor heart and his poor mind were barely hanging on by a thread. Thoughts of her consumed him within a second of her leaving, and his sanity seemed further and further away. He was used to feeling weak in the knees around her, but not so much in her absence.

_____________

Zach pulled his backpack up higher on his shoulder as he waited for his group to join him at the campus cafe he’d been waiting at for the past 10 minutes. His mind was working overtime as he didn’t know how he’d face Zahra while he knew how bad Shawn was taking the hit of their relationship. He hated the image of Shawn walking home with red rimmed eyes for the second time in the same week after he knew he met Zahra at the library. He didn’t have the heart to ask him the reason why because he already knew.

Which is what brings him here, because he shared 2 classes with Zahra, and Shawn doesn’t. Zach was already nervous around her because she was at the top of most of her classes anyway, and she was in group project for this particular one. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to act like everything was fine between them, or between her and Shawn. From what he gathered from Shawn, she acted like everything was fuckin’ dandy. A part of him wanted to call her out, hurt her for hurting his best friend but a bigger part of him knew how that would affect Shawn. To him Zahra had hung the moon, and Zach would comply for his sake. Seeing her walk towards him with the rest of their group, he took a deep breath, narrowing his eyes, as if he was preparing for attack. He didn’t gain second place in his school’s acting competition to never put his skills to use. If she could pretend, he could pretend, too.

___________

He couldn’t pretend for the life of him. It had been two hours and all he did was stare at her with a blank expression, he would give mono-syllabic answers each time someone asked for his inputs and he could see her grow uncomfortable under his stare over time. They had their books and papers piled onto the table along with their coffees and snacks, he couldn’t even finish half of his iced coffee and Zach loved iced coffee.

In his mind he played a dramatic scene where he stood up and screamed “How could you?!” in her face before throwing all their books off the table and saying something more like “You should be ashamed of yourself, Zahra Ameen,” or “How do you sleep at night knowing you’re a cheater?” and storming out of the cafe but a) Zach had social anxiety and therefore hated being the centre of attention and b) their notes were expensive and he wasn’t about to throw them to the floor anytime soon. And he would very much like to not be banned from the only cafe they have on campus, thank you very much.

So all that was left for him to do was stare, and hope to God that it was enough for her to own up to what she did. She was in the middle of showing the group designs she had worked on in the past, trying to gain inspirations for their coming submission and he visibly winced as he recognised two of those as work she’d done for Shawn in the past. She accidentally picked up the mug next to her own and took a sip, nearly spitting it out and saying the most pained, “Is that peppermint hot chocolate?” The group all burst into laughter as her distaste for the poor drink just grew bigger. “Why are you guys laughing? It’s genuinely the worst thing ever!! What kind of sociopath drank good ol’ hot chocolate and thought, hmm, how can I make the best thing in the world taste bad?”

“It’s not even bad, it’s like the upgraded version of hot chocolate, Zahra, you just don’t have taste,” the girl next to her giggled.

“God, you sound exactly like my boyfriend, you guys should start a cult,” she rolled her eyes, “And as much as I don’t support this agenda, he loves this disgraced drink from the place on 21st, if you ever want to try it out.”

Zach looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked like the life had been sucked out of him. His heart clenched and his hands shook. If this is how I’m feeling then what on earth is Shawn going through? He continues staring at her for just a second longer, mumbling the tiniest, lowest, “How could you, Zahra?” before he rushes to stuff his things into his bag, the group looking at him in his confusion.

“Are you okay?” Of course she had to be the one to ask him that, that’s just how great his life is.

“No - I mean, I have somewhere to be, bye,” and then he’s dashing out the door. He runs and runs, doesn’t stop until he reaches their dorm and barges inside their house. A few stray tears may or may not have fallen out in his state of frustration, and he sees Shawn by his desk and runs over and wraps his arms around him in the tightest hug he could muster.

“I’m sorry, Shawn I’m so, so sorry you don’t deserve this,” he cries into his shoulder, “You deserve everything, bro, you deserve the world..”

Shawn was used to Zach crying at the smallest of things, he was an easy crier, that one. And yet he had never truly heard wails so heartbroken come from him, not even when Shawn made Zach watch The Notebook with him for the first time. He wraps his arms around Zach, trying to comfort him but to no avail, his cries growing deeper by the second. Shawn himself was spent, the past few days having taken a swing at his health, and this was the second day he had avoided the mirror. It was embarrassing how much he had let a girl affect him but if he was being honest, he knew she was anything but.

He shushed Zach again, now rubbing his back, telling him he couldn’t fix whatever it was that made him so sad if he didn’t talk to him at all.

“It’s her, it’s Zahra she’s- she,” he could barely talk through his hiccups and Shawn’s heart broke at the mention of her all over again. He coaxed Zach into speaking more, “She does have a boyfriend, Shawn, she said it today, she said it in front of me like, she said her boyfriend loves some hot chocolate from the 21st street place and she - she knew I was right there in front of her, and she said it so easy, like she doesn’t even care, and why aren’t you saying anything?!”

What can I possibly say, he thought.

“It’s okay, buddy, she’s with someone else, that’s not the end of the world, is it?” he smiled weakly. It was though, he felt like his world was seconds away from burning every time he thought of her.

“But she’s - you - you love her, Shawn, and you’ve never loved like this before,” Zach cried out.

“I need you to calm down, first, Zachary,” he let out a dry laugh, ignoring his best friend’s protests, “She’s allowed to love someone else, buddy, I guess it wasn’t so requited after all… and if she’s happy with someone else… then I’m happy for her, I can’t be angry because she doesn’t love me back, that’s not fair on her or on me,” he sniffled a bit, looking away and ignoring the burn in his eyes, “I guess - I mean, I’ll always wish it was me and her at the end, you know? But you can’t fight for everything, that’s not how love works, it works when you’re at peace, and maybe I’m not at peace today or tomorrow but some day I will be…”

Zach watches his best friend struggle with his words, his emotions and mostly his love that he can’t contain no matter how much he tries. He can’t help but mumble back to him, “Shawn I know we’ve always been against physically abusing women but you remember Riya from freshman year? She won the Inter College women on women boxing championship this year, I can get her to rough Zahr-”

Shawn lets out the first laugh Zach has heard in days, smiling despite himself. “That won’t be necessary, we’re not sending someone to beat up the girl I still love.”

Shawn goes to get Zach some water now that he has finally calmed down with the crying and is now settling himself onto his bed when he hears a series of knocks on the door, a chill running down his spine when he realises only one person knew that pattern. Zach goes over to open the door before he can stop him.

His face contorts almost immediately upon seeing Zahra, defence mode kicking in automatically.

“Are you okay?” She starts, “You ran out of there like-”

“Shawn’s not here if you’re looking for him,” he snipes.

“Where is he?”

“He has a class right now.”

“Which one?”

“Integrated uh, Marketing.”

“Nice try, he had that class yesterday,” she shoves past him, entering their dorm and finding Shawn looking like a wounded puppy in the kitchen area. “Hi…” she says softly, careful to approach him. “You didn’t answer my calls or texts so I thought I’d come over to-“

“Now’s really not the time, Zahra, you should go,” he’d never asked her to leave, ever. And his heart broke as he saw her pretty face fall, the dull jabs in his heart making a return.

“Oh, um,” she tried to find the correct thing to say to him, unsure of what she’d done wrong, “Is - are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“He said he doesn’t want to see you right now, Ameen,” Zach spits, moving to stand between the two of them, blocking Shawn protectively.

Zahra’s heart fell to her stomach as she tried to remember what she could’ve done so bad that the whiteboy had to step in.

“Okay, um, I’ll just leave this here then,” she put down the takeaway glass of peppermint hot chocolate that none of the boys had noticed till now, “Please drink it before it runs cold… and um, please call me?”

“You really have guts, huh,” Zach speaks up again, ignoring Shawn trying to hold him back. He sizes up Zahra, stepping closer to intimidate her, “You want to fool around with god knows who and still come around for him? I don’t know what made you think that this was ever okay-” but before he can complete himself Shawn puts a hand to his chest, pushing him away from her.

“Remember what we said about scaring girls, Zachary,” Shawn keeps his voice low, “Let me handle this, please.”

Zach scoffs before heading to his room and slamming the door shut, and Shawn runs his hand down his face, preparing himself for the worse of this heartbreak.

“Can you just tell me what’s going on? I have no idea-“

“When were you going to tell me?” It was Shawn’s turn to be mad.

“About what?” Her confusion only grew by the second, both boys talking in riddles.

“About you fucking someone else, Zahra, about you having a boyfriend.”

“I’m not fu- I have only been with you, Shawn.”

“See? That’s what you want me to believe? Zahra, I loved you, I gave you everything I had, and it wasn’t enough for you I get it, there’s better guys out there, and,” he sighs in annoyance, blinking his tears away for the fifth time in a day, mad at himself for being so emotional, for loving her so much his voice coming out in whimpers, “the least you could’ve done was tell me, baby, I would’ve let you go the second you said you wanted out, what did I do to deserve this?”

Zahra’s eyes pricked with tears as she saw him struggle to get the words out, tears streaming down his face. She moved closer to him to wipe them away but he just moved further away from her again, not willing for her to help.

“Baba, I don’t know what you’re talking about I - I haven’t, I don’t want anyone but you - I really don’t know what you’re talking about, how am I supposed to give you an answer?” She croaked out, throat going dry at the thought of him hurting because of her.

“So you still want to act like you don’t know? Fine, I’ll tell you.” She winced as his voice grew louder, she’d never seen him like this before. “That day at the library? When you told Amisha you were there with your boyfriend? And when I came over to your house when you were sick and god, Zahra I made you soup from scratch and you had the audacity to say you had some boy come over to take care of you and you wanted to wife them up? Like what the fuck was that about? But I let it slide because I loved you Zahra, you’re my best friend the least you could’ve done was lessen the blow - oh and today? When you told your group including Zach about this boy of yours? Do you need more reminders? You’re one to talk about people who cheat but look at you now, huh? Or do you not count this as cheating because, in your words we’re not even dating, are we?”

It falls into place in her head before she can form words to get it out. He had it all so, so wrong. It hurt her that he bottled up his feelings so much that he thought she realistically liked someone who wasn’t him.

“Shawn,” she started calmly, “that day at the library, whose project was I working on?”

“How does it matter?” He scoffs, turning away from her again.

“It does, please, whose project was I working on?”

“Mine? But who el-”

“And today with Zach, I told them about the peppermint hot chocolate from the place at 21st… who took me there for the first time?”

“That fucking boyfriend of yours? How am I supposed to know?”

“You did,” she whispered, “and in that cup behind you is peppermint hot chocolate, because you’re the only person I know who loves it so much.” She wipes her tears away, moving to hand him the cup. “I told you it would run cold.”

He had visibly calmed down, trying to take in what she was trying to tell him. “What about the day I came over when you were sick?”

“You’re the only one who would bring the soup and take care of me. You’ve always been the only one.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t think I’d need to, to be honest. After coming back to college this time, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place, you know? Like we had fallen into place. I know it’s not something I’d discussed this with you, but I only love you, you know? How could I ever want someone else?”

He looked down in shame, thinking of the mess he’d created. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

“About what?”

“Being your boyfriend?”

She wiped her nose, laughing out fully before looking him in the eyes and lowering herself on one knee. “If that’s where we’re still at,” she grins at him, “Shawn Mendes, will you be my only boyfriend?”

taglist: @shawnwyr @mendesstories @lanallaa @sleepybesson @rulerofnocountry

dm to be added or removed ♥️

#my writing #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes x oc #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes fluff #Shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes college au #shawn mendes writing

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flirtingwitharson · 5 years ago

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wolfstar secret santa 2019!

happy holidays everybody! i was given the lovely @hehadlovedthestarstoofondly for secret santa, and her prompt was: illness, mutual pining, snowed in, fake dating. i did my best to incorporate all (unfortunately, i couldn’t comfortably fit fake dating into this one) but i really hope you enjoy it!

No way, not today, not today! Remus Lupin thought with great force and seriousness at his own immune system. He felt the excessive warmth in his skin, the slow crawl of illness making its way through his body. Of course he would get sick today, he mused, just his bloody luck.

Remus had had a very shitty immune system since he was a child, when he was diagnosed with some long-titled condition he had long since forgotten the name of, that basically meant he was twice as vulnerable to sickness as the next guy. His friends were all awfully understanding, and he thanked them constantly. However, today he didn’t want his friends to be understanding, he wanted to be able to be with them without any extenuating circumstances. Well, one of them, that is.

The thing was, he had plans. Plans to go present shopping with one Sirius Black whom he may or may not have been in love with. They were Very Important Plans, and Sirius was due at his house any minute.

Remus grabbed his cellphone off of his bedside table and clicked the call button under Sirius’ name without a second thought. The phone rang as his stomach churned and sweat started to bead on his forehead and the back of his neck; Remus swore under his breath a few times for good measure.

“Morning, Moonshine, look who’s up early!” Sirius greeted upon answering the call. “I’m on my way now, was afraid you wouldn’t even be awake by the time I got there.”

Guilt joined illness on its course through his body as Remus responded. “Pads, I have to cancel today—“

“What, why?” Sirius interjected. The immediate note of worry in his tone sent Remus into a spiral of admiration and disappointment. “Are you ill, Remus?”

“I...” he began—Remus hated to ask others for help just as much as he hated being sick—“ A bit, yeah. I think I’m coming down with something. We can go shopping as soon as I’m better, alright? It’s only the first week of December, we’ve got all month.”

He could hear Sirius finicking with the gearshift through the phone and waited patiently. “Sorry, Moons, I’m borrowing James’ car because of the weather and you know I hate driving this thing...right, okay. I’m still coming over and you’re just going to have to sit tight like a good boy and let me, yeah? You remember what happened last year when you didn’t tell any of us you’d caught the flu?”

He did remember. He was hospitalized for that one, actually—he was incredibly lucky he hadn’t caught something worse, and his friends wouldn’t let him hear the end of it until he understood to never try to shrug off sickness again. Instead of a spoken reply, Remus hummed his acknowledgment, accepting his defeat.

“Well, that’s sure as hell not happening again. I’ll be there soon. Just rest until I get there, alright? I’ve got my key for yours on me, so you don’t even need to get up and unlock the door.” With that, Sirius hung up, and Remus was left clutching his phone in his hand, filled to the brim with a complex mix of extreme appreciation and utter adoration for Sirius Black.

Sirius arrived at the door to Remus’ flat not fifteen minutes later. He’d stopped at Boots on the way to gather some basic necessities to take care of a fever, just in case Remus hadn’t had them (though, knowing him, he did, but Sirius was a worrier). He fumbled with his keys until he found the right one and unlocked the door. After shucking off his boots and his jacket, he looked around and grinned. Remus had put up a few new photos on his walls, including a framed one of the two of them at Sirius’ birthday celebration a few weeks before. There were plenty shots of the Marauders, and of Lily, and of his parents, but Sirius selfishly preferred ones of the two of them best.

Of course, that was probably due to the unyielding crush he’d had on the man since they were sixteen, but that was just speculation. He planned on confessing to Remus some time soon, as he was almost sure the feeling was returned, but inconvenience in timing and his own anxieties had been apprehending him.

Sirius gently opened the door to Remus’ bedroom, and saw his friend scrolling through his phone with the lights off. Remus looked up at the noise and sent Sirius a small, tired grin when he realized he’d arrived. “I’m going to be honest, Moony,” Sirius said as he walked over to Remus’ bed, “you really look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks,” Remus deadpanned. “Listen, you shouldn’t get too close, I might” be contagious—“

“Black’s are above sickness, Lupin. Our blood is too strong for such nonsense.”

Rolling his eyes, Remus scooted over and let Sirius fuss over him. He took his temperature and remarked that it was rather high, so he made him take ibuprofen and drink water to stay hydrated. He made him tea and brought him soup, settling in as if it was his sole responsibility in life to take care of his sick, unfortunate best friend.

“Can I open these curtains, now that your head’s feeling better?” Sirius inquired a short while later. It was late afternoon; they’d eaten, and talked, and napped up until then. They were getting ready to watch a movie, and Sirius was just managing to keep Remus acting like a functional human being instead of staying under the covers and wallowing in the melancholy of being ill. Remus nodded, and when Sirius swept the curtain aside, he let out a low whistle. “Christ, Remus. Looks like I’m stuck here, now—it was hardly flurrying when i drove here!”

As it was, Sirius had not been exaggerating. When Remus leaned forward to look outside, several inches of snow had accumulated. There was no way he’d ever let Sirius go driving in that state.

“I’m sorry,” Remus feebly tried to apologize. He knew Sirius had plans to catch dinner and a movie with James and Lily that evening, and felt terrible that both the weather and his own shitty immune system were keeping him from attending.

“No, none of that,” Sirius shut him down. “I’m glad to stay here and hang out with you, and plus, someone’s gotta make sure you take care of yourself, you poor sod.”

He knew that Sirius had meant his words to come off lightly, but as he sat back down on the bad and got under the comforter, it made him think. He stayed quiet as Sirius lazily clicked through Netflix in search of something to watch. Of course, being Remus Lupin, he couldn’t bite his tongue for much too long.

“Why are you here?” He asked suddenly, catching Sirius off guard. “Not that I don’t love that you are, mind—it’s just, you could’ve blown me off, or called Lily since since she lives just down the block, or even left after you came and made sure I was alright, but you stayed. Why?”

Moments of silence passed before Sirius responded. Remus hadn’t thought it was that deep a question, but he’d been wrong about worse things.

“Right,” Sirius spoke, minutes later, “it’s like this. He sat up and turned to face Remus, and Remus decided to blame it on his fever when his skin had turned a surely noticeable darker shade of red. “Remus, I wanted to wait until the time was right, and call me weak for deciding six bloody years was the right amount of time, but, I’m nothing if not dramatic and self deprecating.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“No, let me speak. Anyways, I’m nothing if not a dramatic, stupid son of a bitch, and I suppose you know what you’re in for if this turns out well, but...damn it, Remus, I love you, alright? I know I tell you that all the time, but...well, I wouldn’t make James soup and sit with him until he could face the light of day, I’ll tell you that much.”

Of course, Remus had absolutely no clue how to respond to that. For such a gifted student, he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box when it came to things like Feelings and Social Cues. So, irrationally, he pressed his lips to Sirius’ instead.

“Fuck me, I’m sorry—please take medicine, I don’t want you getting sick—“ he rambled, having pulled back as fast as he’d kissed him.

Laughing, Sirius grabbed his hand. “Hey, calm down. At least I know I’m not a complete arsehole for telling you I would very much like to date you on your sick bed, now. Perhaps it’s a Christmas miracle, then, that the snow is leaving me no choice but to stay here and cuddle up with you until you’re healthy again?”

Remus nodded, and that was that. Later, when they slept, he hadn’t had the heart to make Sirius sleep on the couch, so he forced him to pop some fever reducers before allowing himself to be held in his arms. Almost masochistically, Remus decided he was looking forward to being taken care of on future sick days at the hands of Sirius Black.

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marveloussupernerd · 4 years ago

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peace - V (Jihyun Kim)

Not gonna lie I played a drinking game tonight w the debate. So I hope this story makes sense lmao

Warnings: mentions of self-harm (NOT by reader), spoilers for stuff about Rika

Summary: You have helped V heal from the scars Rika left... but he worries he wouldn’t be able to do the same for you. He constantly worries he isn’t good enough for you.

You were fast asleep in his arms on the couch. The two of you were reading together, you with your feet up on the couch and head in his lap. He hadn’t even realized you were napping at first. He set his book down. You were so much more interesting than the book.

He remembered that night, when you held him, begging him to let you in, to let you save him. It was hard. He had failed Rika in so many ways; what she did to him was all his fault. What she became... was also because of him.

You wouldn’t let him think that. “Did Rika go see a doctor?” You’d ask. She had. He diagnosed her with depression, anxiety, and paranoia. She had had it for most of her life. “Was she asked to go see a therapist to put her on medication to help?” You’d ask. Yes. She decided she didn’t want to go anymore. He should have tried harder to stop her. “Had she harmed herself before she met you?” You’d ask finally. The answer was yes. She had told V she’d done it for a while. She asked if he wanted to watch.

He wanted to take Rika’s pain away, but he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried. She spiraled. You had helped him come to terms with it; this had all been brooding inside of her for years before she had even met him. He tried to help her. It wasn’t his fault in the least.

And so he tried to be happy for you, and tried to listen to you. He finally got his eye surgery. The two of you took vacations constantly together: basking in the sun and taking photos to auction off for charity. It made V fall in love with his job again, almost as much as he had fallen in love with you.

He gently ran a hand through your hair, picking up the book lying on your chest and sticking a bookmark in before setting it down on the table. Finally he could see you laid out in front of him, chest rising and falling peacefully. He liked watching you as you slept; there was never a worry in the world. Day to day when you were awake you had to help him carry the burden of his actions, but at night you could release all the tension and relax.

He knew you were going through a hard time right now; who wasn’t with everything going on? He came home the other day and heard you crying in the shower. It broke his heart. He asked you if you were okay and you smiled, shaking your head and shrugging his claims off.

Why were you sad? Were you worried about your family? About money? He told you he would support you and you had moved in with him recently. Worried about your health? Did you miss going out? He couldn’t be sure. He just wished you wouldn’t hide it from him.

You let out a soft groan. He looked down at you, your nose scrunching up. Shit. He hadn’t even realized he was crying. One of his tears had fallen onto your cheek. He very, very carefully used his thumb to brush it off your face, hoping not to wake you. However, you stirred. He quickly wiped his tears, trying to compose himself before you fully woke up.

“Sorry. I guess I fell asleep,” you apologized, your voice hoarse from the nap. Your eyes were only half-open, but you could tell something was wrong. “You okay?” You reached up to cup his cheek. “Talk to me, Love.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked, his eyes filled with worry.

“You’re changing the subject. I asked you first.” You made sure your tone was soft, afraid it might come out sounding offended or argumentative. You didn’t want that; you wanted him to know you were worried.

“Oh... well actually...” he sighed. “I’m upset because I’m worried about you. I heard you crying the other day when I got home. You said you’re okay but... you’ve been there for me throughout everything. I just want to do the same for you.”

“Oh, you absolutely perfect human being you,” you chuckled. “I’m okay. I’ve just been having a hard time adjusting to everything going on. You’ve been an immense help.”

“I just... I couldn’t help Rika and I worry I won’t be able to help you,” he huffed out a breath. “I know it wasn’t my fault and it’s unrealistic, but my brain won’t stop telling me that.”

You sat up, scooting back so that you could sit on his lap to give him a proper hug. “You’re taking very good care of me. You’re always helping. The other day when you made cookies? Sitting with me and reading together. Going for walks. The teddy bear you bought the other day. All of those things brighten my day so much and make my heart feel so so full. And it’s all thanks to you. You’re not hurting me. Not even close, Jihyun. The exact opposite.”

“You’re so much better than me in every way,” he confessed, hand running up and down your back absentmindedly. “You speak so well. You’ve helped Yoosung study for classes and Jaehee set up parties and Zen find a new manager. You touch everyone you meet. I pushed Yoosung away. I lied about Rika. I wouldn’t get my eyes fixed no matter how much Jumin begged. I sabotaged all these people and myself and you somehow healed all of us.”

“Because you let me. I couldn’t have done any of it without you.” You leaned your head against his, pointing to a photo on the wall of the RFA. “You see that? Everyone smiling? That’s because of us. We worked hard to bring everyone together. You’ve encouraged the change every step of the way. Don’t you see that without you I never would have had the confidence to do any of this, much less the opportunity to?”

He buried his face in your neck. “You’re amazing. You always know what to say.”

“You feeling a little better?”

“A lot better. I’d say I don’t deserve you, but you wouldn’t be happy with me if I said that. Hmmm,” he peered up at you from under his lashes. “I’d say you complete me in a way I never thought possible. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, the best thing for me that I never even knew I needed.”

“You’re sappy today. I love it. I love you,” you grinned, kissing his forehead.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

“You already do. Everything and much much more.” You giggled.

He gave you a chaste kiss on the lips. “I love you more than anything. You’re the one thing that can bring me peace.”

“I know you have trouble believing it, but same for you. Moments like this? The most peace I’ve felt in a long time. You complete me,” you confessed.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way”

#mystic messenger #mysme #v #folklore

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creek-cryptid-deluxe · 5 years ago

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This needs to be addressed:

I'm on reddit regularly. Today I saw something as I was scrolling that deeply disturbed me & I feel needs to be addressed.

For those not familiar with reddit's format, let me explain. The website is basically a host to multiple forum style 'subreddits' that are based around various interests where you can post photos, videos, gifs, links to websites, links to articles, or just good old fashioned text.

Some subreddits are very broad (r/aww is pictures, videos, & gifs that are adorable & make you say "awww") & some are extremely niche (r/picturesofiansleeping was created by a dude where he just posted random pictures of his roommate, Ian, sleeping because the dude could fall asleep anywhere). Each subreddit is it's own community with its own culture & rules, while also being a part of the reddit community as a whole & abiding by its overall culture & rules.

Below is a screenshot (with the username redacted) from a post in the Ehlers-Danlos subreddit, which I scroll through from time to time just to see what's there, but not regularly because the overarching culture there is not one I want to be a part of (& what I'm about to show you here is a perfect example of why).

So a photo of Joaquin Phoenix filming a scene for the movie Joker is making the rounds with the caption above it, stating that he dislocated his knee filming that scene (not written is that he continued to film after the dislocation) & demanding he be given the golden globe. Given the quality of that performance, even prior to knowing about his knee, I agree that he should have a golden globe for it.

What I take issue with is the fact that that was posted to r/ehlersdanlos with the title "My knee dislocates 5-20 times a day. Where's my reward?"

So let's chat about why this is ABSOLUTELY unacceptable, despite the fact that I see similar sentiments throughout the chronic illness communities.

First of all, this person is 100% exaggerating. I'm not one to doubt anyone's claims regarding their health but as someone who has had knee dislocations since I was quite small, it's not feasible. Subluxed knee 5-20 times a day? Eh, still not really believable. 5-10 subluxations? Sure, maybe. But no way is this person having 5-20 full knee dislocations in a 24 hr period.

Exaggerating like this actually really hurts credibility & not just for them as an individual. I'd be will to bet that if they are stretching the truth that casually in an inconsequential post online, that they do it in real life to medical staff as well. If the medical professionals that we all rely on for care hear enough exaggerations from specific demographic groups (say... women under 25 with an EDS diagnosis), then eventually when they see a patient that fits that criteria, there will be an unconscious bias & assumption of exaggeration. Then it hurts the chronically ill community as a whole.

Second, this person is minimizing & invalidating Mr. Phoenix's (i spelled his first name once & was quote proud, but it is not happening again) injury simply because... why? Because he is able bodied? Because the poster is chronically ill? Those things don't cancel each other out. This is the bit I see FAR too often.

There is this weird line of thinking that is prevalent in the chronic illness community where some chronically ill people think that because other people aren't chronically ill, any illness, pain, or injury they go through isn't as valid as their's is. Lemme just hop up on my soapbox here to say...

📢 THAT LINE OF THINKING IS FUCKING BULLSHIT📢

I've seen it first hand via my aunt. She is diagnosed with fibromyalgia. She has all the hallmarks of EDS, but despite me getting diagnosed & telling her she needs testing, she is weirdly attached to her current diagnosis. Any time my cousin (who is 3 yrs younger than me) is sick or hurting, my aunt says something about how much worse she feels. Cousin says she has a headache? Aunt: "Now you know what I deal with 24/7." Cousin has a stomach virus & can't stop puking? Aunt: "That's literally my life 4 out of 7 days of the week."

When The Spawn was in middle school, right after I had started to trend downward health wise, I noticed her wincing & holding her head a lot. I asked what was up & she said she had a headache & it had been hanging around for 3 days now. I asked why she didn't tell me sooner so I could help & she told me that she knew it was minor compared to what I deal with, so she didn't feel right bringing it up.

I immediately sat her down & had a long talk explaining that just because I am dealing with the dumpster fire I was given does not at any time mean that whatever she is going through isn't every bit as important, painful, or difficult for her & that at no time do i want her to have to handle it alone. I made sure she knew that no matter what was going on with me, I am here for her because what she is going through is important & valid. I've only had to have that talk 2 more times with her.

I've had to have a version of this talk with a few friends & my dad, as well. I'll see my dad wince or hear him do what I call "The Dad Huff" & I'll ask what's up. Dad: "I know I shouldn't complain to you because it's nothing compared to what you deal with but..." BRO i am EXACTLY who you should complain to. I know tricks that could help with a myriad of physical ailments PLUS i have a whole ass Walgreens in my bathroom.

My point is that as a whole, chronically ill people need to stop invalidating healthy, able bodied people's illnesses or injuries. PERIOD. It's not a fucking suffering competition. What? You think if you keep invalidating healthy people & boasting about how much more sick or more injured you are that at some point a guy is going to leap out of the bushes & hand you a gold medal & a giant check for suffering the most?

No.

Also, you'd think if someone was suffering that much, in that much pain, was that ill, that they wouldn't want anyone else to feel even close to the way they do & would be happy to help or be genuinely distressed/concerned for the other person's wellbeing.

So fuck off because people who do this shit just sound like they lack empathy, compassion, and other generally human qualities which implies they have no fucking soul.

Just be supportive of one another, able bodied, disabled, chronically ill, chronically healthy, or whatever. Just be kind to people. Fuck.

#vascular ehlers danlos syndrome #ehlers danlos syndrome #disabilties #disabled #disability #chronically ill #chronic illness #chronic pain #wtf is wrong with the world #wtf is wrong with people

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of-wrens-and-whirlwinds-blog · 5 years ago

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Shadows

A commission for my sister that took way too long alskdhg anyway I hope you like it Sissy!!!! Commission info is here!

There’s too many shadows in this apartment.

Kim is used to shadows. Has been seeing them all her life. She’s never been formally diagnosed, but she’s pretty sure she has some form of psychosis. She sees what the cat sees. She sees things the cat does not. She hears voices that aren’t there, and has had more than one panic attack thinking that there’s someone in the house but she can’t find them.

So it’s not the shadows themselves that cause a problem. It’s the way they move.

The shadow the tv casts is always the same shapes and lengths throughout the day, unless she has a lamp on. Except sometimes the shadow with be opposite where it’s supposed to be, or it’ll be wider, darkening the edges of the tiny, musty living room.

Taking photos on her cellphone helps sometimes. Sometimes it does not.

The shadows in the kitchen in the morning are becoming as familiar as the shape of her own hands. Except there are shadows roughly the size and shape of mice with too-long limbs scuttling around, silent but startling. Too fast to take pictures of.

The bathroom is safe. There are no shadows in the bathroom that do not lie quiet and still. Too still. She does not shower after the sun sets.

But for all that this place feels unsafe, Kim lives here on her own, away from her transphobic family, away from fair-weather friends—alone, comfortably alone.

Except for the shadows.

The whispers start about two months into her living there. She ignores them, shivering. There is absolutely no one in her apartment besides herself, she tells herself fiercely. Even when a voice grumbles about the couch being uncomfortable right in her ear, she just closes her eyes and focuses on her tv show.

Smells begin wafting around, and that terrifies her greatly. This gloomy, airless apartment has always had pockets of mildew-smells and stale air—but now sometimes Kim will shiver at a cold draft, then realize the draft smells like blood. Her neighbor down the hall is Vietnamese and is always cooking something interesting, utterly unlike the American garbage Kim makes, but these smells are not pungent; they are subtle, and make her gag. Blood. Rotting flesh. She hears flies in the bathroom, grabs a flyswatter, goes to the bathroom, and has to run away again, choking from the billow of manure and rot.

It all comes to a head the day the walls bleed.

The neighbors downstairs are screaming at each other again. Kim has been trying to unclog her kitchen sink for three hours, and the shadow mice have been watching her with evil red eyes. The paranoia is digging into her back, and she can barely breathe from the stench of rot. Finally, she puts the plunger down and goes to her room, whimpering, wavering, turning sharply with every step to make sure nothing is following her. She goes to her bed, starts to fall on to it—but her head turns, and she sees blood dripping down the wall across from her wall. The wallpaper has torn, and the board behind it is sweating blood.

Kim screams, and scrambles out of the room, heading for the door—but there are shadows in ever corner of the apartment, staring at her with accusing red eyes, and she screams again, because at least when she’s screaming the whispers aren’t as loud—except they are, they are, and as hard as she tries to shut her eyes, they stay open, looking around wildly, as she falls to the ground sobbing, curling up tightly and cowering from the shadow that looms over her, breathing fetid blood in her face, as she stares up in utter terror and can’t breathe from the fear.

They can’t hurt you, the shadow hisses, and Kim sobs. This is OUR place. They cannot hurt you in our place.

Kim tries to scream again, but the shadow touches her cheek, and the world goes dark.

She wakes in bed, fully clothed and tucked in. The stench of blood is gone. The walls are whole.

She cries in relief, and hysterics. But when she is calmer, she decides she might as well finish plunging the drain. Shakily, she stands, and stumbles out of the room and down the hall.

The plunger is right where she left it. But the tap is on full blast, and the pipes apparently aren’t clogged anymore.

The hallucinations remain. The mice-things skitter, and the evil hissing whispers remain, and the shadows terrify her: but sometimes, other shadows will appear, and swiftly overtake the hallucinations, and then they’re gone.

Sometimes hands of dark grey translucent fear pass over her eyes, and her paranoia calms.

Sometimes the vile whispers in languages she doesn’t know will overtake the voices, and start crooning in what she suspects is meant to be a soothing tone. It frightens her still, but… at least she knows these whispers are, well, real.

One night, when there is a terrible storm, flooding and a tornado and trees shaken from the ground, she hides in the bathtub, weeping hysterically, and a shadow oozes over the edge of the tub to whisper, It will not hurt you. This place is OURS.

Powerlines are down throughout the city, water is cut off, people are being flooded and trees have fallen on houses. But in the morning, Kim still has electricity, and gas, and water. She does not ask why that is. But she does whisper, shyly, fearfully, “Thank you.”

She goes to dinner with her family, and when she comes home she collapses on the couch and cries and cries, the pain of being misgendered and deadnamed second only to the repeated jabs at her being a failure and a liar.

She is startled to feel warmth flop haphazardly over her. She looks up impulsively, and nearly shrieks—a monster of shadow and death looms over her. But it had covered her with a quilt—a quilt that didn’t belong to her. It’s very old, and very musty, but the thing looming over her hisses, They will regret hurting you.

In the morning, she washes the blanket in the tub with cold water and gentle soap, hangs it in front of the fan and window full of sunshine to dry, and is not sad when her brother calls her in tears to say their father had fallen down the stairs last night and broken his neck.

The shadows are protecting her. They still scare the shit out of her, but they are protecting her.

Finally, a year after she first moved in to the haunted apartment, she goes to the local library, and looks up local history. Apparently her building was built over the site of three houses that had been bulldozed because no one could live in them. Ghosts, demons, creatures older than the stones of the hill; there were a lot of theories, but none of them were proven.

When Kim comes home, she asks the apartment at large, “What are you? You’re not… shadows. You were here before me. What are you?”

...Old, whisper a hundred voices, and she bites her tongue to stop a shriek. We are old. But this place is ours. And so are you. We protect what is ours.

Two years later, Kim wakes to the sound of someone screaming.

She scrambles out of bed and runs down the hall, but halts before she can step into the living room.

There is a body on the ground, thrashing, screaming, clawing for the gun just a few feet away. A gun. A person in her house with a gun.

OURSSSSSSS, hiss the voices, the shadows thickening around the person, until it’s a heaving mass of pure dark, and the screams are muffled. Then—silence.

The shadows fade, and there is a tiny stain on the carpet, and nothing more. The shadow that speaks to Kim the most—the one of rot and death—slips up beside her, and whispers, He was going to hurt you. We do not let strangers hurt what is ours.

For the first time, Kim reaches out very carefully, and tries to touch the shadow. Her fingers pass right through. But she still says, in a shaky voice, “Thank you.”

There is a general sigh from the shadows, and suddenly the apartment is very quiet. No whispers. No hissing. No hallucinations. The shadows are quiet and still.

We sleep, sighs the one who talks to her, and fades away.

Kim looks down at the gun on the floor. There’s no other sign of the intruder, and she hears nothing from anyone else in the building. Maybe the shadows muffle this apartment from the others. Carefully, Kim steps forward, picks up the gun, and hides it under a couch cushion. She’ll turn it in to the police tomorrow.

The shadows have eaten, and now they sleep. She should sleep too.

Feeling strangely comforted, Kim goes back to her room, and smiles to see that the old quilt they had given her is spread and waiting. She slips into bed under it, takes a deep breath of the “tropical” scent soap she had cleaned it with (the shadows seem to like fruity scents), and snuggles down, eyelids growing heavy.

The shadows will protect her. No one else ever has, but the shadows will.

#writing #commission #horror #sort of?#I TRIED

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