#the kids are not fine and will make the world an actively worse place for the sake of their own self image.
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i think being raised by smartphones, not facing consequences for bullying, and being shit at school has made a lot of gen z genuinely evil
#a bunch of selfish apathetic mf's who only care about themselves and I hate all of you#đź#its the lack of empathy for me. and sorry no I don't believe they're all just autistic and cant feel empathy or whatever tf#(a claim with which I doubt is even actually a part of autism but i digress)#they care more about appearances bc they were raised to and dont have any fucking morals for shit#the kids are not fine and will make the world an actively worse place for the sake of their own self image.#and no before anyone comes in here#i dont actually think gen z is *actually* evil or whatever. im being hyperbolic. but i do think there is something so fundamentally fucked#up about that generation and evil is the best thing i can come up with bc the shit a lot of them do feels genuinely evil
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Azrael: Agent of the Bat #56 - No Man's Land Dick: "Scared, kid?" Tim: "Not really. A little nervous, I guess." Tim: "Who am I kidding? I'm scared. I feel like those soldiers must have felt right before D-Day." Dick: "D-Day, as in World War Two? You must stay awake in history class." Tim: "We're only up to the Spanish-American War, but I saw the Spielberg movie. Really bloody." Dick: "I hope it doesn't get that bad." Tim: "It won't, will it?" Tim: "Will it?"
Okay, several things I enjoy about this moment.
1. I'm just being so well-fed in terms of great Dick & Tim interactions in this era. Cataclysm, Brotherhood of the Fist, Road to NML, breaking into NML in Robin #67 with classic annoying-older-brother!Dick and Tim panicking about his safety when Dick does a quick death fake-out (typical, honestly lol)... And now with an introspective moment to themselves in the calm before the storm - in Azrael's book no less, lol! I wonder if this came from Dennis O'Neil as something he wanted to include or if it was collaboratively planned as a building-tension moment by the writing/editing teams plotting NML.
2. Tim confiding in Dick my beloved <3 But also - Tim lying at first that he's not really scared, before deciding to just be honest. He has these moments of such earnestness at times (not only with Dick (also YJ, Bruce, Steph, Cass), but often) and they're even more striking because of how prone he is to lying, secrecy, glossing over things and pretending to be fine, etc. most of the time.
He's still pretty young here, barely 15 if that, and his tendencies definitely get worse over time, but he's already wrestled with lying to his Dad, Ariana, Steph, and his other friends, already pretended to be fine to Dick's face in Contagion and Legacy when he was actively dying or under threat of doing so again, refused to tell his Dad he was ever even sick, lied to Bruce's face about Secret, etc... It just sticks out to me so much whenever he chooses to go - yeah, okay, I'll be open with you right now even if it makes me vulnerable.
3. Dick not answering him!! Is that last panel, where we can't see him over Tim's shoulder even though he's positioned right behind him in the others, implying that Dick straight up vanished in order to avoid having to lie or be vulnerable himself lmfao? (I mean, probably not, but the thought is v. funny.)
On the other hand, Dick's silence as a type of honesty and vulnerability in and of itself... We know that as much as Dick likes teasing Tim, he also likes to comfort him, to be that figure of strength and reassurance to him. For him to be the one asking Tim if he's scared in the first place, and then not be able to scrape up anything more than "yeah, hope it doesn't get as bad as literal D-Day" and foreboding silence when Tim admits that he is scared...
It makes me think of that contrasting moment in Murderer/Fugitive later on, where Dick does tell Tim the comforting lie, that he'll always be safe with Batman and Nightwing, that everything will be okay, and desperately wants Tim to believe it.
No such comforting lies in No Man's Land, apparently.
#Dick and Tim#Dick Grayson#Tim Drake#No Man's Land#batfam#dcu#Cam reads comics#Cam posts#DC Comics panels#Nightwing#Robin#missing-moment fic where Dick disappearing from behind Tim is because he's settling down to sit next to him#and they have a longer conversation about NML and the trials ahead of them#with the bleak backdrop of ruined Gotham all around them
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Hii, I have a lil request for slasher & child!reader. Itâs a little bit personal, sorry haha.
Do you think you could write something with a child reader who has anemia? Itâs sometimes literally just called âlack of blood,â so you can get an idea of how crappy it is to have.
It makes it really hard to breathe and makes my heart beat abnormally faster compared to people who donât have it, and lots of chest pain. It also causes extreme cases of fatigue and headaches, and I have fainted because of it before.
I feel like having anemia would be a big struggle for slashers, (what with having to constantly run, lift thing, being real active) so theyâd def feel upset that their kid has it.
Thereâs a lot more stuff, but you get the idea. Sorry if this oneâs a bit more personal
No, no. It's perfectly fine. I hope you're doing well, I'm sorry if I made the condition sound worse than it is. Apologies for my ignorance.
And take care of yourself, anon. đčâ€âđ„
Cw:
Relation: platonic.
Slashers in this: Michael, Jason, thomas, bubba (sorry I couldn't write for billy & stu and sinclair twins)
Slashers x anemic! child! reader
Michael
It didn't bother him that much, but it did worry him. He didn't particularly have to worry about running... Well you running because he'd prefer you stay at your parents' house when he does murder but if you don't have any.... Well, he would rather carry you to safety if you're having trouble anyways. He'll survive. With Michael, there's always a home but never a home to stay at though.
he doesn't like standing and observing you whenever he notices you're having trouble breathing and when you clutch your chest in pain. He doesn't know what to do and he wishes he does.
Do you need.. What were those things again? Inhalers? He witnessed a few people use it when their breathing was erratic and rough so he wonders if you need it too. But for now he'll rub your back and hope it helps to support you emotionally that you're not alone and he's here. Whatever you need him to get, tell him and he'll try his best. Supplements? Give him an hour. I think he knows a pharmacy somewhere that he can break into. And don't even try to refuse them, he won't have it.
Since you're a child he worries this might be too hard for you â and he hopes it won't be the end of the world for your life anytime soon.
You're tired? That's fine, sleep on the couch or floor. Anywhere, he doesn't care. Just not on him. (You can convince him if you try hard enough.) He doesn't care if you nap 3 times a day, sleeping is good for you and helps you grow. Or so he heard. He doesn't even sleep that much anyways â your deadly father figure Michael approves. What he doesn't approve of are the headaches you get, the more painful they seem the more frustrated he gets. God dammit, why is your life so difficult? Where are the painkillers again?
Okay so the real panic sets in the first time you passed out in front of him. Fuck, did you die?
He's shaking your body slightly and pressing his ear up your chest, letting out a silent sigh when he hears your faint heartbeat. He gently lifts your body and places it on the couch â he sits beside you, watching you over like a hawk. Michael can't believe it. Never in his life had he thought he'd look after and stress for someone this hard - especially not a child. You must be absolutely insane if you think he's the type to care for one and yet here he is, listening carefully for your breath to hitch and your eyelids to be open.
He sighs, why can't he just murder peacefully? He's questioning everything. But he'll get used to it eventually. Sometimes he acts like you're a burden on his shoulders and a source of meaningless grey hairs but that's not exactly how he feels. It's.. Different.
But never hesitate to trouble him, not even when he comes back after 2 all nighters.
Jason
He is always so scared that one day your body might give up and die. The thing he stresses really hard about is that he can't give you the supplements and things you need. He's in the middle of buttfuck nowhere in the woods but he does know where the end of the woods are and he's kind of willing to step into civilization if it gets really bad, he really doesn't want to see his kid in pain and do nothing about it. He's not going to Manhattan again though. Always extra painstaking when he takes care of you and makes sure you don't need to use your body as much.
Anytime someone enters the camp he's immediately shoving you somewhere safe and deals with whoever trespassed himself. Although he's in immense discomfort when you have your headaches and difficulty in breathing. He's begging for his mom for help in his mind what he can do to ease whatever pain you're growing through.
Although Jason doesn't need to eat, he knows you do. So he searches for fish in nearby lakes (if there are even any) and he gets nuts, whatever is rich in iron. He'll get em for you.
Secretly hopes that people do trespass into camp crystal Lake. Those who happen to carry iron vitamins and supplements that is. He feels extremely relieved after going through the bags of one of the victims he's beheaded and finding a bottle, happily handing it to you and if you don't want to consume it he's very gently shoving it down your throat. Nope, you're going to eat this and that's final. Mama pam says so.
Sighs and lays you down when your chest starts hurting and stays by your side. Why do you have to go through so much? He thinks as he rubs your hair and waits for it to go away so you both can carry on whatever you were doing. Because of this, he doesn't allow you to lift the wood that he's chopped. If you insist it's either he stays stubborn or he allows you to carry the thin ones one at a time. You don't have to help him, and while he appreciates the thought. He would rather you stay inside and be safe.
Unfortunately for him, he doesn't catch on that this act of overprotectiveness and treating you as if you were made of bubble might upset you. Tilting his head to the side slightly as he watches you sulk in the corner in both frustration and feeling of being heavily underestimated. He really doesn't mean any harm. A little confused but Jason's got the spirit.
Panicks really hard every time you faint, his mind always wanders to the worst possible case scenario and assumes you have died. Incredibly frustrated since he's technically dead and a lot of his senses don't work properly. He's losing his touch and things are getting a bit hard to hear. Ear pressed hard against your chest, hoping his eardrums will be met with the thrum of your heartbeat and his fingers checking for your pulse, waiting to feel the throb upon his skin.
Got used to you getting fatigued and actually encourages you to sleep. It's better than following him outside of the cabins and into the woods where you risk getting bear trapped. Strict, very strict.
Thomas
Thomas is already very grateful for his family but he's even more grateful for them right now cause he would have no idea what to do without them. It depends, whether you're blood related or illegally adopted he will get used to it eventually. This ain't the craziest the family has dealt with.
He brushes you off whenever you try to help him carry things, what if you get dizzy and get headaches again? No! He won't have it. He carries you in his arms and sits you down somewhere. You can sit on top of his shoulders if you'd like.
Gets especially anxious when there are people comin in. He knows you won't particularly be targeted nor would the family allow you to exert yourself, but if something goes wrong? You have to run, and then your breathing will get roughed and- he doesn't want to think about it. But it does stay on his mind a lot. He makes sure to reassure you however he can when Hoyt makes you feel like you're a hindrance to the family, he doesn't know what he's talking about, is what Thomas tries his best to tell you. 'He's just scared.' He thinks and pats your head.
Heard from mama mae that meat, dark green vegetables and nuts will help raise your iron. (Assuming that he has been somewhat educated on your condition.) And then from now he will pester you to consume those. You don't wanna eat the meat? Why not? But fine, eat your veggies and nuts then.
Iron supplements? What are those?
Your chances of getting them are pretty low, I'm not sure if there's a pharmacy or clinic nearby but fingers crossed Hoyt might get in that damn truck and drive to get them for you if he feels nice enough. Tommy's not allowed out into the public.
Frowns a little when he cuddles you in his lap for you to fall asleep and feels your hands are cold. Why are they so cold?, hell why are you so cold? It's not even winter yet. Oh but when winter does come he's smothering your body with lots of layers. Will add more layers if you fall sick. And no, that's not up for debate.
When you faint he'll first stare at your unconscious body in shock before picking you up and putting you down on the couch, he puts his hand in front of your nostrils and feels air hitting his fingers. With a relieved sigh he patiently waits for you to wake up. Not too alarmed.
It's a different story when you're in pain, his heart breaks a little when your chest hurts and your head aches. You want water? Give him a break, he's trying his best.
Bubba
Out of this list, he's the one to handle this the worst when one of your more serious side effects takes place. And it really doesn't help that his family kinda don't know what to do either. They can try to help but it probably won't work that much.
It's lowkey over for you.
It also depends. All he knows is that something is wrong with you; you get dizzy, your breathing gets all incorrect, your chest hurts and you (guessing because of the rougher environment) faint a few times too much to what he'd prefer. Absolutely clueless.
Although you do have more of a leverage if you have at least somewhat knowledge about your condition. (Reading books or you were adopted and knew it beforehand way back prior to when bubba killed your parents.) This way Bubba can learn and know what to expect, he's very much happy to learn about you and take care of you to the best of his abilities.
Quite sad actually that you can't properly take part in revving the chainsaw and chainsawing people. Though the times that you can are when the victim is tied down and helpless. It's up to you whether or not you want to partake in it, though you don't have much of a choice. The family's set on tradition and won't understand why if you don't want to; 'you WILL be killing people with this chainsaw! I'm sick of this phase of yours!' 'It's not a phase.'
Seeing you faint will almost send Bubba to tears, hell, maybe it did already. He's just shaking your body while whining and babbling incoherently. After the whole incident he'll rarely ever let you out of his sight, great, now he's dragging you everywhere.
There will be a lot of problems being in the Sawyer family. But at least you're still alive... Right?
#slashers x child! reader#slashers#michael myers imagine#michael myers x teen! reader(platonic)#michael myers x child! reader (platonic)#jason vorhees imagine#jason voorhees x child! reader (platonic)#jason voorhees x teen! reader (platonic)#jason voorhees#thomas hewitt x reader#thomas brown hewitt#thomas hewitt x child! reader#thomas hewitt x child! reader (platonic)#bubba saywer#bubba sawyer x child! reader#bubba sawyer x child! reader (platonic)
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i cherish you, halcyon days (gojou satoru x reader)
âyouâre gonna die, kid. in the worst way possible. but because i like you so much, iâll let you ask three questions about it.â youâre 15 years old when youâre told youâre going to die. youâre 17 when you realize who your killer will be. and youâre a day away from turning 19 when you make peace with the fact you wouldnât want it any other way.
tags: gn!reader, annoyance to friends to lovers, you and gojou share a birthday month and you're not amused, it's canon that jujutsu school curriculum last 4 years so don't say nothin' when i mention 4th year students, now a multi-chaptered fic read here
[2005. Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College ăŒ 1st year]
Do you like Gojou Satoru?
If someone were to ask you that, you would have to answer ânoâ. Youâd answer ânoâ even if no one asked. Gojou Satoru is impossible for you to like from his stupid sunglasses to his shit-eating grins. Even worse is his arrogance. Itâs only an additional sprinkle of salt in the wound when you found out later in the year that he was rich, part of some big name clan in the world of jujutsu you yourself were only scouted into.
I donât like him at all.
Youâre the odd man out in your class, though. Despite your less than stellar review of the boy, your classmates, Suguru and Shoko, got along just fine with him.
To spite you even further, it seemed the universe enjoyed pinning the two of you together as well.
It wasnât enough for the universe to have you both in the same school, year and class. No, you even shared a birthday month.
Gojouâs December 7th to your December 9th.
The week of your shared births, Gojou was especially intolerable. âYouâre the baby of the class,â heâd taunt gleefully like he wasnât only two days older than you.Â
To cut on time and effort, your teacher and classmates decided that from 1st year on, December 8th would be the day both of your birthdays were celebrated. And thus, December 8th was 'Satoru and [First] Day'. Your cake was his cake and present unwrapping was a joint activity.
By the gods, I wanna punch him so much.
At the very least, you can rest easy in knowing the fact that the feelings of dislike are mutual.
Gojou Satoru is strong, itâs an irrefutable fact no matter how much youâd like to deny it. Heâs strong and in turn, the strong are the only ones Gojou respects. You apparently donât make the cut.
And thatâs fine. Strength came in all sorts of ways. You disliked Gojou Satoru but you could live with the fact that, at the very least, you were going to be stuck together for four years. Because even if he was strong, life sometimes paid you back with small moments of grace where someone put the golden boy of the Gojou Clan in his place.
You thought it was one of those days when you met Takamatsu Akira. It was a week before your birthday when he told you were going to die.
You raise an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name, âwho?â Itâs lunch at Jujutsu Tech and youâre eating with your classmates when Shoko name dropped a person you never heard of. âNever heard of âem.â
âHeâs a sorcerer that can see glimpses of a personâs future when he looks at them,â Suguru answers in her stead over a sip of his oi ocha. âHeâs apparently at the school today for some sort of meeting.
"Hands off the goods," your eyes widen in amazement as you quickly smack away Gojouâs hand from your lunch. âReally? And itâs all accurate too?â
âHeâs a major asshole, though,â the white-haired boy hisses with a pout. You roll your eyes. Iâm not sure how reliable your words are if you of all people are calling someone an asshole. Your incredulousness must show on your face because Gojouâs next words are, âseriously! He only tells people he thinks have interesting futures anything about it.â
âAnd?â
âSatoruâs just mad because apparently his future isnât interesting,â Suguru smirks, smugly welcoming his best friendâs unamused side eye. âHe told me about mine though.â
You bite back a snort when your curiosity to know Suguru's fortune wins. âWhat did he say about it?â
Suguru touched his chin thoughtfully, recalling back the day he met the seer. âHe said that one day Iâll be stuck at a crossroads between two paths and make a life changing decision,â he pauses dramatically and you lean forward in anticipation. âThatâs all he told me though.â
Damn it.
The brown-eyed boy chuckles but he shoots you a look of amused sympathy, âhe never really tells you too much about it apparently. I was disappointed too.â
âDid he ever tell you anything about your future, Shoko?â You ask your classâ resident slacker.
Shoko shook her head, bob gently moving with her. âIâm one of the boring ones too,â she says with a lazy wave of her hand. âLike Gojou.â
âDonât worry, my friends,â Suguru places a hand over his chest and bows with far too much grace and humility. âI alone will shoulder the burden of having an interesting future. Unlike Satoru.â
You choke, unable to stop yourself from chortling this time. Whatever Gojou sputters in his self-defense, you donât hear it over the sound of your own laughter. âMaybe heâll tell me about my future too,â you sigh when your giggles subside. You sincerely doubt it, but itâs fun to think about the possibilities. I want an interesting life plot twist, like the reveal Iâm actually a long-lost member of some royal family he just wonât tell me which one.
âHeâll probably stop by because youâre here,â Shoko rests her chin on her palm. You were the newest in your class, starting a month later than the rest. âHe likes seeing if new students will have interesting futures ahead of them.â
âDonât get too excited, [First],â Gojou quickly rains on your parade with a lot of arrogance for someone whose future is apparently so boring a seer wonât even talk to him about it. âIâm the most interesting person in this place and he wonât even talk to me. So who knows what sort of reaction youâll get.â
âOh quit being bitter that your future is gonna be boring, asshole,â before any other quips and gripes can be exchanged, the class door slides open abruptly. You look over with a start, wondering if itâs your teacher when you see it isnât. The man is a bit younger than Yaga but his hair is already graying and his eyes are a deep green reminiscent of pine trees. You have a feeling you already know who it is and grin. âYou wouldnât happen to be Takamatsu Akira, would you? Gojou here was telling me about his boring future soăŒâ you stop yourself with a shudder when you blinked and realized that man was in front of your face and much too close for comfort.
âNow that is something,â the man blinks owlishly, eyes almost glowing in his amazement.
Your discomfort flies away faster than a seagull with someone elseâs lunch, âreally?â
The man leans back with a grin and a snap of his fingers, âreally, really.â
With that you look at Gojou and stick out your tongue and he sticks his tongue in return.Â
[First] 1, Gojou 0.Â
Suguru chuckles and Shoko grins and all the while, Gojou Satoru flicks your forehead too quickly for you to react. âLook, hater, it isnât my fault that your futureâs boring, quit trying to rain on my parade,â you snicker, batting your eyelashes. âMr. Takamatsu, Iâd really appreciate it if you could tell me about my future if you donât mind. Before the naysayers get more butthurt than they already are.â
âYouâre gonna die, kid.âÂ
With four words, your blood freezes and you find yourself blinking once, twice slowly. Itâs the matching looks of shock and surprise on your classmates' faces that tells you you heard Takamatsu correctly. Stiffly, you look back at the seer hoping for that revelation to be nothing but a joke, but instead you find yourself looking at a maniacal grin. That grin feels more like a knife in your gut. âIn the worst way possible.â
The knife sinks deeper into your flesh, twisting.
âHey,â out of the four of you, Gojou is the one who finds his voice first.
Takamatsu ignores the boy with snow white hair as if heâs nothing but a minor breeze, âBut,â he beams like heâs only told you that he found a discount at the convenience store. âBecause I like you so much, Iâll let you ask three questions about it.â
âO-okay,â you stammer almost instinctively. Like a zombie, you find yourself stumbling onto your feet and Takamatsu nods at the door. These answers will be for you and you alone. You arenât sure what expression you wear on your face as you exit, nor the expressions of your peers. You can't bring yourself to look at them as you follow the future-seeing sorcerer into the halls of your school.
Iâm going to die.
Iâm going to die.
In the worst way possible.
Itâs only once youâre relatively alone that the seer halts his walking in the middle of the hall to look at you. âFeel free to ask your questions,â he tells you. âYour classmates shouldnât be able to hear, even if they keep looking out the door. So ask away,â he reassures you, waving his hand nonchalantly.
You glance to your left and sure enough there are three heads leaning out of the door, staring straight at you both. You canât bring yourself to smile reassuringly before you return your gaze to the sorcerer in front of you.
Three questions.
Your first question can only be so obvious. âHowăŒ how do I die?â
Takamatsuâs amusement is sapped from his face at that question. âReally?â He yawns with a shake of his head. âThatâs what youâre going to ask? Thatâs quite boring.â
Boring? Boring?! Itâs my life! âYeah but-â
âYou know what, fine,â Takamatsu sighs, crossing his arms. He recalls his vision in his mind for a moment before he opens his lips. âYouâre going to be killed by someone precious to you. Ask me something more⊠riveting this time.â
You blink slowly.
Youâre going to be killed by someone you care about.
When do I die?
Was it an accident?
On purpose?
Why would they want to kill me?
You donât think those are questions Takamatsu will find intriguing in the slightest. In a panic, you ask the most original question that enters your brain. âDo I die⊠angry at them?â No. Fucking. Shit, me. âWait, that was dumb donât answer th-â
âNope, it counts,â Takamatsu clicks his tongue. Maybe itâs payback for your first question being so predictable and unoriginal. âAnd my answer for that is no. Your heart will surprisingly bear no anger towards the person who kills you.â A revelation that shakes you to the core. âWell, one question left to go, kid. No more mess ups, Iâll take it even if itâs something as a dumb as a repeat question.â
âOkay, okay,â you exhale nervously, biting your lip. I need to think.
You know yourself.
Youâre selfish at times, who isnât? If it really came down to it though, you know youâd always put someone elseâs life over your own. You can talk big, you can snort when you watch a movie and say âyeah sorry, theyâd be stuck on their own. Iâm not dying in a situation like that, Iâd wanna go homeâ. But you know yourself enough to know that despite thinking it, your feet would inevitably turn towards the other person. Maybe youâd die in the end but you know youâd try your damnedest to get them out.
Why else would you put yourself on the line fighting curses?
But Iâd like to think that in a life or death fight where itâs me or them, Iâd choose me. You shake your head pushing the thought to the side. You almost forgot the most important detail. Your killer will be someone who matters to you. But I wonât be mad about it. If it was life or death, Iâd choose me. I know that. Stranger on the street or a lifelong sworn enemy. And I know if I was killed by someone, Iâd definitely be bitter about it. Iâm not that forgiving.
Future you isnât in agreement. Your eyes turn to the ground.
Is it a life or death fight situation or an accident? You open your mouth briefly before closing it again.
Theyâre precious to me.
Theyâre someone I care about.
But I wonât be angry.
I mustnât have been trying that hard then, you wet your lips as a light bulb flickers deeply in the recesses of your mind. You couldnât have been. How else could your future selfâs lack of anger be justified? One day, there will be someone you care for so greatly that even in a life or death battle, youâd still choose them.
You raise your head to look into dark green eyes dancing with amusement, a grin accompanying them. The grin morphs from clear to distorted at the welling of tears in your eyes. I wasnât trying. âI must really love this person, donât I?â
Takamatsu's grin grows even wider, eyes flashing in pleasant surprise. âYeah,â he leans against the wall, crossing his arms. âIt seems like you do.â
Tears roll down your cheeks like streams into a river yet your arms hang loosely at your side. âThatâs three questions then,â you murmur, throat constricting. You inhale slowly, hold your breath and release before wiping your eyes. âThank you for answering my questions, Mr. Takamatsu. Lunch is gonna be over soon, so Iâm gonna go finish eating now.â
You bow before turning on your heel back to your class, your classmates are still there. You donât really care to receive their pity or empathy.
âIâm gonna die, itâs gonna suck and thatâs all he really told me,â you say before anyone can ask. You bite into your egg harshly.
.
Itâs hours after classes have ended for the day and youâre cooking in the communal kitchen when you see Gojou again.Â
âHey,â Gojou says and his tone is so serious it startles you. You set your knife down on the cutting board before looking at him. His face doesnât seem right to you and it dawns on you a second later itâs because heâs frowning and itâs not the usual childish frown youâre used to seeing. âDonât take what that guy said seriously. Like I said, heâs an asshole. He was probably saying all of that to freak you out.â Thereâs a pause and Gojou scratches the back of his head, looking uncomfortable in his skin. âSo donât, like, cry about it. Takamatsuâs a prick.â
âAre you,â you squint, looking Gojou over suspiciously. âTrying to make me feel better or something in your own weird Gojou way?â
âSomeone has to make sure the class baby isnât drowning in their sorrows,â Gojou returns to his usual brand of cocky, with a grin. His sunglasses slide down, revealing playful eyes.
âI donât want the comfort then,â you roll your eyes and return to chopping your vegetables. âBesides, I donât need it anyways, Iâm strongâ
âEeeeh.â
Asshole.
âThereâs different kinds of strong, you jackass,â you argue for argumentâs sake. You vaguely notice that in spite of your annoyance, your shoulders arenât stiff and your jaw is loose. Apparently Gojou is good for something, after all. âStrong looks different for different people. A kid is strong when they act tough after tripping. A grown man crying and being open with his emotions is strong,â you recount some of the ways youâve seen people be strong in your life. Youâve witnessed strength in various ways in your 15 years of living. â... Even just living despite how hard it can be is strong.â
Save for the sound of you cutting green celery and the light simmer of the pan, silence falls over the two of you.
âWhat did you guys talk about when he said you could ask him questions?â
â... nothing important.â
[2006. Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College ăŒ 2nd year]
Youâre 16 and youâre still alive and kicking.
Youâre an upperclassman now, not that it means anything when there are still two whole grades of jujutsu schooling ahead of you. Still, you welcome the newfound responsibilities and admiration you receive in going up a level. At least, one of your underclassmen seems to admire you. Haibara Yuu does, though youâre pretty sure he adores Suguru even more. Nanami Kento is nice though, albeit a bit reserved.
The three of them are like you, individuals scouted into the world of curses and sorcerers rather than born into it. Itâs nice to know youâre not alone in that sense.
Even if they werenât, however, youâre sure that Gojouâs presence would find a way to override any sort of 'being alone'. You canât be alone when heâs around even if you want to.
Gojou is just as annoying as he was when you were first years, but heâs surprisingly more tolerable.
He still bothers you whenever he has the chance and he still refers to you as the âclass babyâ. Youâd also be lying to yourself if you said his hubris has gone down since you first met. Heâs just as smug as heâs always been but itâs a bit easier seeing the charm in it in your second year compared to your first.
So maybe ăŒ in the absolute loosest sense of the word ăŒ the two of you have become friends. Something like it at least.
This is why you donât mind it when the boy plops his ass on your desk when youâre trying to read the recent volume of Fruits Basket to tell you about his newest feats he accomplished on his most recent mission. Nor do you mind it much when he follows you to the dorms to continue telling you what feels like an exaggerated tale, but you know Gojouâs abilities enough to know that 99% percent of it is true.
âSo yeah,â he finishes with an air of satisfaction, nose pointing towards the sky with pride. âYou could say that Suguru really didnât even need to come, I pretty much crushed it by myself.â
Youâre pretty sure if Suguru was here, Gojou would be in a headlock. âBetter not let your bestie catch you saying that,â you warn playfully.
âCome on, [First],â Gojou beams broadly with no care in the world. âIsnât this the part where youâre supposed to praise me?â
You shake your head in bemusement, smiling lightly. âI can admit it, Iâm impressed,â your words are genuine. With all the blessings he has in the world, being strong is the standard for your classmate. Heâs a natural talent to boot. Yet for all his nonchalance, you can give credit where credit is due. The guy works hard to perfect his techniques and heâs a perpetual motion machine when it comes to improvement. âGood job, Gojou, youâve worked really hard. Iâm happy youâre seeing the payoff.â
It takes you a second to realize that youâre walking by yourself and you turn around, eyebrow quirked. âWhatâs up?â Gojou doesnât respond immediately and you have no idea what his eyes look like beneath the sunglasses. âHey are you alright?â
The boy comes to at your prodding, sauntering after you lazily, ânothing, nothing,â Gojou replies smoothly with a grin. âI am pretty great, huh?â
âDonât ruin the moment, Gojou,â you give him a light shove that barely moves him an inch. Geez heâs a giant, you wonât be surprised if in the future heâs taller than even Yaga.
âSince Iâm working so hard, do you think you could make me a congratulatory lunch tomorrow?â Youâre pretty sure he isnât serious. Or at the very least youâre sure Gojou expects your answer to be negative. You never cook for him, the closest he ever gets is pilfering samples of it before you chase him out of the kitchen. âJust ki-â
âSure, what do you want?â
With near comedic timing, Gojouâs shades slide down the bridge of his nose and his eyes are wide in astonishment. âSeriously?â
Your grin widens, âI can change my mind if you-â
âNo, no, no! No take backs allowed, [First]!â Gojou covers your mouth with a large palm. âIâm putting in my special requests!â
You move his hand from your mouth with a sage nod, âthen please make your requests, young pupil, Iâll prepare you a feast of feasts!â Gojou opens his mouth promptly, giddy. âWithin reason.â
You snicker when he whines about the unfairness of your new stipulations.
It takes a week before lunch becomes dinner too.
Gojouâs nice sometimes, you can admit.
And maybe you can also admit that you are ăŒ in more than the loosest sense of the word ăŒ actually friends. A friend whose status as a special grade sorcerer is something you can be proud of rather than annoyed by. Heâs reckless and sometimes that recklessness gets him in trouble, but still you enjoy his company when you have it. Even if sometimes he gets you in trouble because of his shenanigans. Or even when he is annoying Utahime whom he is presently taunting in favor of saying her partner for this mission is stronger than she is.
âMei Mei,â you wave your fingers daintily at the strong partner in question. âFinally gonna let me take you out some time?â Youâre mostly joking. 5% at least. Beautiful as she is, Mei Mei isnât really your type.
The blue-haired sorcerer laughs lightly, crossing her arms, âIâll have to warn you that my dinners arenât cheap.â
âWorry not, Iâm an amazing cook,â youâre barely able to wink in the money-loving sorcererâs direction when Gojouâs lanky arm is thrown over your shoulder and he saunters over to a distressed Utahime. âWhat the heck!â
âCheck out how the path Utahime walked on is falling apart,â Gojou snickers.
âOh shut up,â Suguru looks far too pleased to actually mean his words though.
For Utahimeâs sake, you fight back the urge to giggle at their tomfoolery. You like Utahime, you bonded in your first year over finding Gojou Satoruâs presence an annoyance. Youâve sadly, however, become a bit of a traitor to your Hating Gojou Alliance, much to her dismay when you confessed months prior that you and Gojou had become chill.
âBy the way,â Mei Mei brings the conversation back to a reasonable plane. âWhereâs the veil?â
Gojouâs nice sometimes, you can admit. And maybe you can also admit that you are ăŒ in more than the loosest sense of the word ăŒ actually friends. A friend you can be proud of. A friend whose company you enjoy even if sometimes he gets you in trouble because of his shenanigans.
Like the fact you somehow forgot to put up the veil?! How the hell do you forget to put up the veil?! Nevermind the fact you technically forgot too, Gojou was the one who said heâd put it up. Thatâs why you have no problem pointing in his direction when Yaga sternly asks who was the Forget Futaba in your band.
âIs a veil that necessary in the first place,â Gojou whines in the gym later in the afternoon. âItâs not like it matters if normies see or not, right? They canât see cursed spirits or cursed techniques anyway.â
âPretty sure itâs for the best that normal people donât start seeing spontaneously exploding buildings on the regular, Gojou,â you watch with an impressed whistle at how your classmate tosses a basketball effortlessly to a hoop. Youâre sure if Suguru hadnât stopped it, the ball would have been a perfect three pointer.
âOf course itâs not good for them to see,â Suguru affirms your words resolutely. âThe strongest deterrent against the outbreak of cursed spirits is the mental calm of the populace.â It becomes a battle of the philosophies when Gojou steals the ball back with finesse.
âLooking out for the weak is so exhausting, honestly,â Gojou sighs and Suguru shoots back with narrowed eyes 'Survival of the Weakest'. âAssigning reasons and responsibility to strength is what those who are weak do.â
Should we� You glance at Shoko.
Yeah, we probably should. The brunette glances back.
âTime to dip,â Shoko sprints out of the gymnasium faster than youâve ever seen her.
âIâve got a pretty wild date with Battle Royale right now,â you skip after her in a hurry right as Suguru summons one of his cursed spirits like it's a pokemon.
The next time you see Gojou, he knocks and enters your room when you go âhuh?â âYo, Iâve got a mission.â
âAlready?â You raise an eyebrow. âWe just got back from the Mei Mei and Utahime thing.â
âYeah,â he sighs. â Teach says we have to protect the star plasma vessel.â
âThat information got leaked?â
âWait, you know what the star plasma vessel is?â
âTengen stuff is, like, the bare minimum of stuff we should have learned about in first year, Gojou.â
â... anyways, Suguru and I are heading out early tomorrow,â he says, like what you told him moments prior wasnât anything important.
You smile with pride, âwell, thatâs a pretty big mission for a couple of students to have,â it really is, honestly. If anything, thatâs something you think the adults should have. Itâs pretty cool that two of your classmates were chosen for it. âThatâs cool. You should be really proud of yourself, Gojou.â
Your words get his lips to morph into a smile a bit more authentic and veritable than his usual smug grins and confident jeers. âI am pretty cool, huh?â
You roll your eyes in good fun before looking at your book again. Your favorite character's dead but you at least wanna see who gets off this shitty island. âYâall not still fighting about earlier are you?â
âNah, weâre over it,â Gojou sits at a chair by your bedside desk, swirling in it. âItâs whatever in the end. Suguru can believe whatever he wants.â A silence somewhere between comfortable but hesitant falls over you briefly before Gojou asks, âyou believe that stuff he was saying too?â
âDunno, youâre probably asking the wrong person,â you turn the page with a shrug. Itâs been nearly a year since you met Takamatsu Akira. Nearly a year since you were told someone you loved would kill you in the worst way possible and yet youâd have no anger in your heart about it. The future is technically always changing. Itâs never stagnant. If you wanted, you could take what the seer said to heart and run with your tail between your legs. Yet here you were, laid on your stomach reading Battle Royale in your room located in Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College instead of elsewhere; living in perpetual paranoia about any relationship you have. âThe weakâs the majority, they need protection. It should be the duty of the strong to protect them. But⊠I can also get the exhaustion. If youâre the strongest, whoâs gonna protect you then?â
You close your mouth and purse your lips thoughtfully and vaguely you find it a bit amazing that Gojou hasnât made any sort of quip yet.
âBut⊠I guess I probably align myself more with Suguruâs line of thinking,â you decide after a heartbeat. âIâm the one whoâs gonna die in the most horrible way possible, remember? But here I am, still kickinâ it here with you guys. I should probably run while I have the chance, huh?â
âI already told you not to listen to that crap,â you look away from your book, surprised at the harshness in Gojouâs tone. Your eyes look into angry azure and you glance away just as quickly. âThat guyâs a prick. Thereâs no point in listening to him. So quit worrying your pretty little head about that. Youâre supposed to be strong, right?â
Your eyes skim over your book, not sure what else to settle your eyes on. âYeah,â you whisper. âIâm pretty strong, I guess.â
That appears to be the right answer. âExactly, so stop giving that stuff he said the time of day.â
You chuckle, âyeah youâre right, sorry,â âIâm always rightâ Gojou says flippantly and you find your head shaking with a warmth settling in your chest. âGrab me a souvenir or two while youâre gone, Mr. Special Grade.â
âIâm not leaving Tokyo, you know,â Gojou tosses a crumpled piece of paper at your head.Â
âSo?â You toss the paper back, watching as it bounced off his infinity. Cheater. âGrab me something extra nice anyways! I deserve it as payback for cooking for you all the time, you eat like a horse.â
The mission goes horribly wrong.
Shoko tells you over a phone call that the mission went horribly wrong in all the worst ways. Suguru was injured. Gojou was dead.
Parts of campus look like it was hit by a tornado when you get there, out of breath, lungs screaming but you still push through it to get Suguruâs room banging on the door. âSu-â
âSatoruâs okay,â is the first thing out of his mouth when he opens the door and your knees almost buckle in your relief. âHeâs alive. He was injured but heâs alive. Heâs in his room, right now.â
Heâs okay.
Heâs okay.
Your breath is shaky as you let your friendâs words permeate through your entire being. âThat,â you lick your lips, holding yourself. âThatâs good.â Itâs all you can say although it doesnât encompass even a tenth of the emotion you feel. âIâm glad youâre both alright.â The quiet is almost deafening; what do you say to ease the hurt when the mission went wrong in every way it could have? âIâm gonna start cooking in an hour or two. Iâll bring you something to eat later, any requests?â
âItâs okay,â Suguruâs smile is small but polite. âIâm not that hungry. Maybe Satoruâll eat something.â The door closes promptly before you can ask if your friend is sure he doesnât want anything. Iâll check on you again later, I promise.
Your nerves are frazzled when your eyes sweep over to the door that leads to Gojouâs room, hardly able to make yourself move towards it.
âHe was injured but heâs alive.â
How injured is injured?
Has he gone to see Shoko?
âGojou?â Your knock is barely audible.
You knock once more with a soft confidence.
âSatoru?â Your voice falters, just above being a whisper. âHey, itâs me. I know you probably donât want to talk right now but I just want you to know Iâm here and Iâm not going anywhere. If you wanna talk, Iâm just down the hall, okay?â You pause, ears straining to hear anything on the other side of the door. Youâre met with silence. âGet some rest. Iâll bring you dinner later, alright?â
With a sigh, you turn around to go to your room only for your heart to leap out of your chest when you realize someone is already in it. You jump, clutching your chest when you realize itâs Satoru, sitting on your bed with his back slumped against the wall.
He looks like hell and impossibly small wrapped in your blanket. Russet stains his white locks that are even messier than usual and his eyes have a chilling emptiness to them. He doesnât meet your eyes, you arenât sure if he has the will to. You donât have the will to say anything despite the thoughts running through your head.
Wordlessly, Satoru raises the blanket in an invitation. Like heâs welcoming you through a barrier.
So wordlessly, you sit on your bed and nestle beside him. You donât mind the scent of sweat, blood and dirt. Nor do you mind when the tall and lanky teen slumps against your side, resting his head atop yours. You simply find his hand and brush your fingers together, feeling the roughness of his callouses, before twining your fingers with his.
You clutch each otherâs hands almost painfully.
[2007. Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College ăŒ 3rd year]
Itâs you, isnât it?
You realize that one day Satoru is going to kill you on a rainy night in December in your room laying on your bed. The two of you had taken to sharing a space on nights you felt lonely since you were 16 and the star plasma vessel mission went wrong in every way possible. Last week, you both turned 18.
Another year has past and you're still alive and kicking.
Youâre facing each other, your head resting on your hand with your elbow angled to keep your head up.
âYou wonât leave too, right?â Satoru asks softly, fingers messing with a stray string on your shirt.
Suguruâs gone. So is Haibara.
Both are gone in different ways.
Death is what took Haibara, leaving Nanami Jujutsu Techâs sole second year.
Suguru was swallowed in madness and disillusionment, defecting to accomplish a new goal of creating a world with only jujutsu sorcerers.
It stings, but you know Satoru is hurt the most.
âItâs unfortunate to tell you but youâre pretty much stuck with me, Satoru,â you give him a weak nudge with your free hand.
âEven though Takamatsu said youâre going to die?â
âWeâre all gonna die someday,â you tell him easily. Itâs you. You arenât sure how youâre able to smile like you arenât having the worst realization in the world but you smile. âBesides, youâre the one who said not to worry about that, right? Because Iâm strong.â
âYeah,â Satoru whispers. âYouâre strong.â
âAnd youâre the strongest sorcerer in the world,â you remind him unnecessarily. It is an inherent fact of the world. Gojou Satoru, born only two days before you came into this world, shook the entire world when he was born.
âAnd because youâre the strongest, thatâs why I have to stay with you,â you run your fingers through his hair gently. When is he going to do it? When is everything going to go wrong? You want to remember every feature he has before you one day have no choice but to leave them behind. âWhoâs going to protect you otherwise?â
Satoru smiles for the first time that night, looking up at you almost dreamily from where he lays. âYouâre gonna protect me?â
âYeah,â you vow sincerely.
[2008. Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College ăŒ 4th year]
âHappy birthday to us, happy birthday to us,â Satoru sings crudely while you roll your eyes. Itâs technically neither of your birthdays. Itâs the 8th, the one day mid-point between your birthdays. The Official âSatoru-[First]â Birthday Bash Celebration. Contrast to your first year as a student at Jujutsu Tech, you find yourself in a more pleasant mood about it. âHappy birthday to the both of us, happy birthday to us!â
âIsnât it a bit too early to sing,â you shake your head with a chuckle.Â
âEarly shmurly,â Satoru shrugs off your nonchalant concern like water off a duckâs back. You canât bring yourself to scold him. âThey throw us a surprise party every year. Itâs not even a surprise if we know itâs coming. They always make us wait all day in class or tell us to leave campus though.â
âItâs part of the atmosphere, Satoru. Tradition!â You grin, giving his leg a light flick as he plops his ass right on top of your desk. âWe gotta wait and act completely oblivious to everything until someone tells us to head to the dorms.â
Itâs nice to see him smiling. Itâs his second birthday without his best friend. A fact that will always resonate through your reality like ripples through the water.
âYouâll like my gift the best by the way,â you tell him with a self-assured confidence.Â
âFunny, I was about to say that to you,â Satoru winks, leg swinging lazily. Heâs not wearing his sunglasses for onceăŒ theyâre off to the side resting on the teacherâs podium. âOf course, my gifts are always the best.â
A comfortable silence fills the room and you close your eyes.
Tomorrow you turn 19 and youâre still alive and kicking.
Moments like this make it hard to believe that one day you wonât be. Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you told Satoru the truth of everything Takamatsu told you that day. You consider telling him this very moment, eyes resting on his face. He's smiling gently to himself, thinking about something unknown to you.
Heâs so beautiful it makes you want to cry.
âHey,â you can barely hear yourself.
âHmm?â Satoru looks at you, lips upturned in a mellow, peaceful expression.
âWe should get married.â
One second passes,
two seconds.
âYeah, we should,â Satoru nods, seemingly enchanted.
You blink dumbly, âwhat?â
âLetâs do it,â Satoru repeats himself purposefully. âLetâs get married.â
â... Satoru, I was 60% joking when I said that,â you donât even know why thatâs what came out of your mouth.
In spite of your attempt to brush him off, Satoru stands to his feet all the more determined. His large hands cup yours gently as he pulls you into standing with him. âAnd Iâm being 100% serious,â he means it, you can see it in his eyes. Theyâre more clear than any lake youâve seen. âLetâs get married. We can go after your birthday.â
âSatoru, weâre high schoolers,â you try reasoning.
âWeâre old enough to get married in this country.â
Despite that fact, you shake your head again, âweâre not getting married in high school.â
âThen we can tie the knot after we graduate,â Satoru decides like thatâs the only issue at present.
âFresh out of high school?â
âFresh out of high school,â he affirms. âWe can have a big wedding just like in the movies. Whatever you want. Weâve already got the headstart on the kids with that Zenin kid and his sister.â
You find yourself laughing unexpectedly at the absurdity, at the certainty. âSatoru.â
â[First].â
âYour clan is not gonna be happy with you marrying some jujutsu nobody,â you tell him.
âLike I care what a bunch of old farts think.â
âIâm pretty sure your parents arenât gonna like me.â
âIâll love you enough to make up for it,â Satoru rests his forehead on yours. That motion alone damn near breaks your heart. âI wanna marry you, [First].â
âYeah,â you sniff. This boy who is quickly becoming a man in front of your very eyes is beautiful enough to make you cry. âLetâs get married.â
For a smile so small, it beams like a thousand suns, âRight after we graduate?â
âRight after we graduate.â
âEven if you think my parents arenât gonna like you?â
âScrew âem. Iâll love you more than enough to make up for it.â
One day Gojou Satoru is going to kill you.
You donât know what will lead you down the path of finding yourself on the opposing side of the boy youâve grown to love. You donât know whether it will be a death thatâs accidental or as intentional as Suguruâs defection from your organization.
So many unknowns, yet the fact remains the sameăŒ one day youâre going to die and itâs going to be Satoru that sends you to the other side. You let him kiss you despite that fact.
Itâs you.
You know it in your heart.
Because if someone were to ask you if Gojou Satoru was precious enough to you that you wouldnât bear any anger towards him for killing you, you knew what your answer would be in a heartbeat.
Yes, you kiss him tenderly, holding his face in your hands while your heart cupped the precious memories you shared. Memories you would never allow yourself to forget. The halcyon days of past, present and future. He is.
[20xx. kuzuivencdcsusahduvtaydr ăŒ ???? oayn]
Itâs snowing in Tokyo, a lot of it.
Thatâs not common for the area of Japan you live in.
Maybe Tokyo will see one or two days of light snowfall, but itâs almost never enough to cloak the city like this. Thatâs why itâs a perfect day for a snowball fight and it is perfect, save for the fact that Satoru is definitely cheating.
His tosses may be light but the jerk still has on his infinity, your snow dissipating in powdery puffs whenever it hits the barrier keeping him perpetually safe.
You canât stop yourself from giggling though, even as he pelts you with an unfair barrage of snow.
The laugh is barreling from your form even more when Satoru rushes you out of nowhere, the largest snowball youâve ever seen in his hands laughing like heâs five. Your fall is softened by the snow underneath you, barely even much of a drop, and Satoruâs on top of you with his legs on either side of your torso.
Heâs merciful enough not to slam dunk his snowball of fury into your face though.
âOkay, okay, you win!â You laugh good naturedly. âPlease, Gojou Satoru, I yield!â Despite your words, your hand is working quickly on the side to form a snowball. Heâs touching you, you can feel the warmth of his legs on either side of you. His infinityâs down then. You open your eyes mischievously, bracing yourself for a toss when you feel something warm fall onto your face.
One drop,
two drops.
Your breath falters.
âWhy are you crying, Satoru?âÂ
It occurs to you then in all your years of knowing him, youâve never seen Satoru cry. Yet there he is, right atop you, holding the worldâs largest snowball in his trembling arms. All the while, tears are running down his face, flowing from those beautiful eyes of his. Those eyes filled with a greater sadness than youâve ever seen as he looks at you.
The snowball you were clutching drops from your hand immediately in your concern, âhey whatâs wrong?â
Satoru doesnât answer you. Instead, the strongest sorcerer in the world drapes himself over you with body-wracking sobs. The snowball he was holding has disappeared to who knows where, his hands now clutching the front of your jacket tightly. Satoruâs only response is his body-wracking sobs, his knuckles painfully white. He sobs, sobs and sobs like youâve never seen before.
Slowly, you bring your arms up to hug him and nuzzle the top of his hair that matches the snow around you. âItâs okay,â you whisper to the boy crying in your arms. You smile softly and you close your eyes once more. âItâs okay,â you tell him again. âI'll protect you.â
i was inspired by chainsaw man with the idea of a future devil sorcerer and a reader who shares the same fate as aki
*bonus note: also in japan, the legal age marrying age for women is 16 and men is 18, i heard from a prof they're working on changing that but at least during the setting the time of the fic that is still the same so hence why you'd both be of marrying age despite still being students
*final note: i am a huge final fantasy nerd and the final chapter is written in al bhed, a language from final fantasy x. feel free to use this translator
#look she's writing#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojou x reader#fun fact: december 9th is MY birthday#gojo angst#gojou angst#whoops#happy birthday gojo
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Can I just say I love your bully Joel AU? HOLY SHIT the thought of Etho raping him and basically isolating him from everyone because "he's an irredeemable asshole, nobody would want to be close to him ever, right? Etho is the only person willing to talk to him at all" and manipulating Joel to make him dependent on Etho because Etho himself has become addicted.
Joel lashes out and rebells, just for Etho to put him in his place again and again. At first Etho just did it to shut him the fuck up, but goddamn if that brat wasn't the cutest ass he's ever had. At some point he just started manipulating him and making him have sex with Etho whenever (whether he wanted to or not) as a form of "retribution" and it's this fucked up toxic relationship but Etho doesn't care at all. All his friends praise him for always protecting them from Joel's bullying but little do they know Etho is doing something wayyy worse himself behind the scenes.
I also like to think about how Joel would cope. Like at first he'd cry a lot because it hurt like shit, but then why tf is his body reacting like this?? Why is it responding to Etho? Is there really something wrong with him? I imagine it makes him angry and defensive which causes him to get into even more trouble than before, which leads to Etho abusing him more, which leads to even more lashing out, and the loop just spirals until he's either miserable but still entirely dependent on Etho, or he starts liking it and actively seeks punishment (he never stops crying tho, Ethos likes it when he cries anyway).
Anyway can you tell I'm going insane??? Good food.
Oh my goddddd this. this is everything. I still very much cherish the Bully Joel au, it's SO good
And yeah! You got the looping spiral perfectly, that's kind of the drive for the the whole au to keep going and getting worser. Joel gets a bit shaken at first by it, obviously thrown off by being pushed out of his weird power play he had with everyone, being reminded of his place in the world as "prey", but once he recovers from it a bit he goes right back at lashing out. He's violent, mean, annoying. That's what he does! Lash out at everyone!
Add Etho into the mix and it all becomes a mess, because Etho makes him feel small and scared again, and that makes him want to appear scary, makes him be crueler with the pranks and his words, makes him want to occupy more space and let everyone know he's NOT prey, he's just not, he's not the little red riding hood, he's the wolf. Totally! It makes him hate bdubs, he knows he can't hurt Etho but he can hurt his precious "Bubs" instead. But oh well, that just gets him raped again! Joel is so fucking stupid sometimes!
And oh, when he actually is raped, speared on Etho's hard cock. It's just like he's a kid again, scared and shaking but cumming sooo hard all the same. He hates himself so much, what the fuck is wrong with him? He'll catch himself getting hard from having Etho's gross rapist dick down his throat. Slobbering all over it, taking it all in like a little fleshlight even if it bulges his throat a bit. He doesn't know what's worse, keeping his eyes open and having to look at Etho's lustful eyes or closing them and remembering other things that happened in the past. It's like there's no escape. He doesn't get to dissociate because he's just so horny his whole body burns, and a normal person would wish they were home instead of having to face this horrible situation, but Joel knows being there wouldn't be any better, so he braces for it. Tries to fight back sometimes, yes, but it's pointless. He's small and stupid and I guess his body WAS actually just made for being raped.
All their friends praising Etho is just so good. So . fucking . good . Joel knows not to mess with Gem, avoids Bdubs most of the time, doesn't even bother Tango even though he fucking hates that guy too. It's just fun, Etho says it's truly nuthin', its fine. Oh, always so humble, the guy. What a guy.
Joel already doesn't have THAT many friends, or if he did he doesn't seem to hang out so much with them anymore, especially Grian. Ever since he got a boyfriend they kinda broke apart, so getting Joel alone isn't a hard task. Joel usually ends up sitting alone somewhere hidden, like under the bleachers where he goes to smoke his older brother's stolen cigarettes. Hurting him and getting to his little head isn't hard either, after all he's all bark, secretly a sensitive kid inside
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I must not read chapter 109 and wait for the chapters to pile up.. I must not read chapter 109 and wait for the chapters to pile up.. I must...
*reads it anyways*
Why did I do that. Damnit, I should've known that reading that chapter would have re-activated my need for more. I was way better off ignoring anything related to Yohaji and just went about my day, not thinking about Yohaji every minute of the hour of the day of the week. But the damage has been done. Now I have to read the whole manga all over again just to satisfy myself once again. But no. That's not enough. I searched every corner to hunt every single content of Yohaji. Tumblr. Twitter. Youtube. Tiktok. Ao3. Our lord and savior Canada's account. The giver of reason in life, one who resurrects the dead, the sailor uniform to my life, Tanamai-sensei's account. I know that the Yohaji content in this world is not enough and will NEVER be. The moment I discovered this manga, I knew that it would be my life. The fact that it had only reached me last year, ber month is unforgivable. Why did it not have content as many as the amount of numbers there are to exist so that it could reach me at the start of it's existence? It should have been Yohaji. Not BNHA! Nothing against that anime by the way. Well, I am grateful that I stumbled upon Yohaji while it had 100+ chapters though. And the fandom being small enough to only have nice and cool people in it. But those fics in ao3 though? Why- I mean, I don't really care or pay attention to them but the fact that the amount of nsfw fanfics is probably (I'm saying probably because they might just be more) equal to the amount of sfw fanfics in there is- I swear, WHY ARE THERE SO LITTLE FANFICS OF YOHAJI?! 3 PAGES?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? There might be more in other places but I only read in ao3 and Tumblr if I find some there. I'm so thankful for the translators though!!! I love y'all. I love the fandom. I love the characters. I love Yohaji. I love the creator. God- sorry I forgot I can't use sensei's name in vain. I'm telling y'all, Tanamai is the GOAT. A GENIUS!! Your brain is beautiful. What goes on in head yours? Tell and everyone might gain more braincells. What's with you? What's with your humor?? What's with your lore?! WHAT'S WITH YOUR ART??? WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!?! SENSEI WHEN I CATCH YOU OHH WHEN I CATCH YOU. But of course, it's not your fault that I'm starving for more Yohaji chapters. One month is nothing to me- IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!!! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO CREATE THIS WONDERFUL AND HEAVENLY HOOK THAT CAUGHT ME EVEN ONLY WITH IT'S TITLE AND ART?? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEEE?!?! Senseiiiiii*sob* waaaaaahh... Still, I'm sooo happy this is getting an anime this year!! I've been waiting for this ever since I found out it existed along with other Yohaji fans. I knew it would happen soon enough because it's the law. It's a crime to not make an adaption of amazing yet weird yet amazing manga like no other. Death row. DEATH ROW!! It's fine even if it's low quality. As long as it exists, I can finally pass on peacefully- when it airs it better be as good as the manga and look immaculate, I'm telling you. Haha, just kidding. Or am I..? I cannot wait until April or whatever how long it takes for the anime to air just please. Please even the trailer only. But I'm sure everyone is already working hard to make the anime for it. Do your best!! You're doing the right thing! And.... uhm.. 24 episodes... please..? AHHH HARUAKI'S SMILEEE!!! IT'S INVADING MY MIND!! GET OUT! PLEASE GET OUT!!! THIS LOWLY UNGRATEFUL UNDESERVING WORSE THAN DUST BUZZ BUZZ KILLABLE STUPID MORTAL ABOMINATION CAN'T HANDLE OR DESERVE SOMETHING LIKE THAT!! AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! I can't do this. More. More. More Yohaji. I NEED IT. IF AIR AND SAILOR UNIFORM IS LIFE THEN SO IS YOHAJI!! RAAAAAAAHHH
Also I accidentally deleted a longer version of this and rewrote it with my memory. Thanks for wasting your time on this like I did.
#yohaji#youkai gakkou no sensei hajimemashita#terrified teacher at ghoul school#I'm fine#But not finer than YOHAJI SENSEI AND THE FANDOM-
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spiderwebs and dust
Summary: Miles and Y/n have had a long couple of weeks. Like all couples, they need some alone time with each other. A date is long awaited, but, will it go as planned?
(word count: 2k :])
They've been exchanging messages all night, deciding on tomorrow's plans. Both of them were extremely tired, though no one wanted to say goodbye that early into the night. This was the first time after a while that both of them could relax and enjoy each other's company, even if they weren't physically together. Â
The past few weeks have been tough on them. The teachers at Brooklyn Visions Academy have been giving out so much homework, making every single student anxious. All it took was some "sloppy workâ and some missing assignments and they'd be done for. Â
Aside from the pile of schoolwork, Miles had other things to worry about as well. There seemed to be an epidemic of rising criminal activity in New York and there is only so much the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man can do. Â
Of course, it was nothing he couldnât handle; most of the time they were hardly just some villains of the week. However, this lifestyle was tiring him out. All he wanted to do was spend time doing the things he loves with the person he loves the most, Y/n. Â
This turned out to be quite the challenge as spidey duties don't exactly have stable hours. Â
He loved doing this, helping New York's citizens, making his dad's job a tad easier-even if he didn't necessarily appreciate Spider-Man's "helpâ (he'd come around eventually)-, being idolized by the smaller kids (sometimes the adults too), etc., etc. Most of all, he was thankful he could make sure the people closest to his heart were safe. Being Spider-Man had its perks. Â
Being Spider-Man had some disadvantages as well. Having to sneak out every day, lie to his parents and girlfriend about his whereabouts, miss important days/special occasions, run late on dates-if he even managed to show up in the first place- and many more. Â
He just needed a break, some time to relax. To forget about his responsibilities and enjoy life with her. Â
Oh, how he loves it when it's just the two of them. Not a single thing on his mind, except from her. Everything is so blissful and calm, almost magical. Itâs just him and his girl in his arms... until some rando decides he wants to become Spider-Man's archenemy (he really hates those guys; so pretentious and full of themselves. Most of the time theyâre not even half decent at being bad). Â
He knew this wasn't fair to her. His parents usually attributed his "concerningâ behavior to adolescence and whatnot. âIt's fine, he'll grow out of itâ they usually tell each other and try not to worry too much about their sonâs well-being. Â
But with Y/n, things were...different. He knows the excuses he gives her are lame. Like, seriously lame. Sometimes, he'll even disappear without giving her a single explanation. That's messed up and he knows it. Hell, he'd break up with himself. Â
There is not a single thing in the entire world he wants more than to come clean and tell her the truth about everything. About his sneaking out, about the injuries that he attains from fighting bad guys, not from his furniture because he's clumsy, that he doesn't enjoy leaving her, everything. Okay maybe he'd love to start a band, but thatâs beside the point-he had an interesting dream once-. Â
But he can't. He knows he shouldn't. That's how every superhero movie goes: the hero reveals their identity to their loved one, bad guys somehow get hold of this information, they kidnap said loved one, the superhero turns up to save them, something goes terribly wrong and the loved one either gets injured bad or worse... Â
He doesn't even want to think about it. Â
And now that more and more villains get their hands on some really advanced technology, which makes the fights all the more challenging, Miles doesn't want to risk it. He needs her to be safe and he'll do everything in his power to ensure that nothing bad happens to her, ever. And that's a promise he is not willing to break. Â
- You sure you'll be able to make it? I don't wanna be there on my own :/ Â
- when have I ever stood you up? Â
-Do you really want to start this conversation :/? Â
- ...not really...no </3 Â
-nah I promise you i'll be there and we'll have a great time too Â
-Sureee.. I believe you Â
- goodđ Â
- Anyways,,,, I think i'll go now Â
-If I stay some more I'll definitely sleep thru it Â
- Goodnight :] Â
-goodnight cat-lady Â
-You have to drop that nickname Â
-neverđ€ Â
- I love you Miles Â
-I love you Y/n Â
-sweet dreams Â
The smile on his face quickly faded as he put his phone down. And just like that, Miles is left alone with his thoughts once more. Tired of twisting and turning in his bed, he decides to put on some music to block out the thoughts that are racing through his head and help him relax. He eventually falls asleep. Â
---- Â
He's supposed to meet her at 5 p.m. outside her house. Thankfully, there was no sight of any villain and even if there was, he'd have to leave it to the officers. Today was about her and her alone. No superhero stuff for the day. Â
He was by her house fifteen minutes early, just in case. He really didn't want to mess it up. He had everything planned. They'd do all of her favorite activities, visit all her favorite spots, eat all her favorite foods. Everything would be perfect. Â
And of course, it started raining. Â
For a split second, Miles thought about throwing himself off the Brooklyn Tower but ultimately chose against it. And thank God for that, or else he would have missed all these amazing experiences with his favorite person. Â
The minute they stepped outside it began raining cats and dogs but not for a single second did they think to get back. Â
They started running toward potential shelters. They were soaked but they were having a blast. There wasn't a moment their laughter couldn't be heard. They went inside every single store that permitted them entry, given their clothes were dripping all over the place. Â
After all that window shopping, they decided to go eat at the cheapest diner possible and share the fries as they always do. They were having the time of their life. They realized just how much they missed the person across them. Â
The people surrounding them also took notice. It was so evident how much in love the two of them are. Only a blind person could miss the loving way they looked at each other, smiling and laughing at the dumbest things, their foreheads and noses bumping and their lips occasionally meeting and them melting into the kiss. Â
---- Â
The hours passed quicker than they realized. It was almost midnight, and they were at their final stop for today, the terrace of Y/n's apartment building. Â
It was a quite romantic night. The building was pretty tall, so they had a nice view of the city. It was fairly quiet too, especially for a busy neighborhood like theirs. Everything was perfect. They had the person they loved most in their arms, and nothing could ruin this moment. It was almost too perfect. Â
After seeming in deep thought, Miles finally breaks the comforting silence by taking a deep breath. Â
âY/n...I have to tell you somethingâ he says, an expression of seriousness suddenly taking over his previously content face. He had thought about it thoroughly, he had weighed his options and had come to a conclusion; this was what was best. Â
She looked at him, completely puzzled and clueless as to what caused the unexpected change of tone. A look of worry washed over her features as she adjusted her position so she could properly look at him. Â
âIs everything okay? Has something happened?â Her mind was racing, coming up with thousand scenarios as to what he was about to tell her. Â
âYeah, no everything's fine. Itâs just... I've been thinking and uhm...You know what? I'll just get it over withâ He takes a deep breath once again. Â
âWhat is it, Miles? You're kinda scaring me-â Â
âWe should break upâ Â
Well, she definitely did not expect that. A wave of shock rushes through her body. After a moment of silence, she burst into laughter. Â
âFuck, man you almost got meâ she says between laughs, as she tried to compose herself. âYou've gotten really good at thisâ She looked up at him, smiling, fully expecting him to be bent over, laughing at her shocked face, mimicking and making fun of her like he always does. Â
The sight she was met with was not the one she was expecting and hoped for at all. Â
He didn't try to meet her eyes; apparently, the spiderweb and some dust that no one had the courtesy to clean were of much more importance; he was looking at everything but her. Â
âMiles? Cut it out, it's not funny anymoreâ Her eyes were frantically moving, trying to catch his gaze. She was desperately trying to get him to give her any attention, or some sort of explanation. She was convinced this was just one of Milesâ many uncalled-for jokes, one that he took too far for her liking. Â
A minute had passed but to them, it felt like they had been stuck in that position for an eternity. No one was moving or talking, and it seemed like they were holding their breaths for what felt like hours. Â
â...Miles?â her eyes were glossy at this point; tears were threatening to spill. Â
His eyes finally met her own. Seeing her like that broke him, he could swear he felt his heart shutter right then and there. *How can she be this pretty even when crying? This is going to be a lot harder than I thought* Â
He thought about dropping the matter. He could pretend this was actually a joke. She'd probably slap him and run straight into his arms saying that that he's an asshole and that she hates him *No, you don't, he'd say kissing her hair*No, I don't, she'd repeat defeated, I love you*. Â
But that's not how it went. Â
âMILESâ she exclaimed angrily âTALK TO ME DAMN ITâ She was hysterical, yelling, crying, begging him to say something, to say anything, to acknowledge her. Â
âY/n...â his voice breaks at the sound of her name leaving his lips *What am I doing? * Â
He says her name once more just to make sure she's listening to him. This time it's slow but steady as if he was afraid that saying it any louder would break her. He was trying not to make things worse. Â
He quickly collected himself and if he had any doubts about how the girl across him felt, well, after this, there wasn't any uncertainty. She was devastated and it was all thanks to him. HE made her feel like this, it was all his fault. Â
The look on her face made him wish he could take everything back, for all of this to never had happened. But it was too late for that. Â
âI mean it. We're done. It's for the bestâ
#miles molares#miles morales x reader#miles morales x y/n#miles morales imagine#y/n#spiderman x reader#spiderman x reader angst#spiderman x y/n#spiderman#spiderverse x you#spiderverse x reader#marvel#marvel x y/n#into the spider verse#across the spider-verse spoilers#x reader
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First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day
Day 5: Showing Off
Something smelled really good, like a comfortable, warm blanket for your nostrils kind of good. It slowly stirred you from the depths of sleep and for a moment, you were reminded of a cartoon character floating along the wonderful vapours.
Your eyes finally flickered open and while it took a moment to adjust to the light, you suddenly realized Frisk was gone. Ever since the first night you'd spent at the brother's home, you'd slept in such a way to basically shield them with your body. You laid on the couch with your back to the room, having Frisk situated between yourself and the back of the couch.
While Frisk wasn't always a cuddler, ever since you'd both fallen down here, they'd started practically clinging to you like a koala, especially while sleeping. Although, in the short time you two had been staying with the brothers, Frisk had grown more comfortable in general and you noticed they weren't sticking as close to you lately. Still, if they wanted to stop sleeping so close to you, they hadn't expressed as much, which was perfectly fine by you.
You hadn't told the brothers yet as you hadn't seen a reason to, but Frisk wasn't actually your kid. Sure, you had been looking after them on and off for the better part of a year by this point, but they still technically lived with their parents. Although, it had started to feel like they spent more time at your place instead, which only compounded further now that you hadn't been apart for a few weeks.
You'd always treated them more like a younger sibling than your own child. In fact, you'd barely ever given having children of your own much thought. You weren't blind though, you knew that Frisk's real parents barely acknowledged them back when you first met them, which only got worse the more time they spent with you instead.
You were the one who learned sign language to communicate with them, something their parents couldn't seem to be bothered to do. You were the one who comforted them when the neighborhood kids picked on them for being different. You were the one who made sure they ate right and made it to after school activities they were interested in.
You'd been distant at first but Frisk wormed their way into your heart until you couldn't afford not to care about them. Sure, you'd spoken with their parents many times about your concerns, but they never listened to you. The responsible thing after that probably would've been to report them to CPS but you couldn't bear the thought of Frisk being put into the foster system.
So that was how they'd become your friend. You took time out of your busy schedule to do fun things together like watch movies, play board games, and go to the local park to name a few. While you acknowledged that you could never fill the parental role for them, you knew you could at least make a small difference in their life.
So naturally, you'd become rather protective of them. You didn't think you were overbearing, but anyone would understandably be if they suddenly found themselves in a world where everyone wanted to kill them and their kid. The fact that Frisk had disappeared was enough to strike fear in your soul that the worst had finally happened.
You got up quickly, although the sudden motion caused you to feel rather lightheaded, but once you'd recovered, you scanned the living room for Frisk. Your ears then picked up the sound of Papyrus' voice in the kitchen and the familiar clatter of cooking utensils. Upon checking though, relief flooded over you, smothering the initial panic you'd felt.
Of course, Papyrus was there, but sitting on the counter close by was Frisk. They seemed to be holding a pleasant conversation, although Frisk was communicating solely through sign language but Papyrus seemed to have no issues understanding them, which was slightly surprising. They hadn't interacted much before now so you hadn't realized Papyrus knew sign language.
You smiled at the sight and walked into the kitchen as casually as you could. "Good morning," you said when they noticed you. Well, you hoped it was still morning and you hadn't overslept at least.
Frisk waved at you as soon as they spotted you. "I'm helping make breakfast!" they signed excitedly.
"Oh? It seems like you're being a big help then," you responded teasingly.
Papyrus chuckled and turned the element down slightly. "They Are Actually." He looked over at you again and added, "I Do Not Usually Cook With Anyone But They Know More Than I Expected."
"I remembered how to make scrambled eggs, just like you showed me." Frisk grinned and planted their hands on their hips proudly.
You felt your heart melt and you moved over to the counter, giving them a big hug. Frisk struggled in your grip until they could free their arms and hug you back. You were very proud of them that was for sure.
Hearing Papyrus chuckle again, you released your grip on Frisk and looked over at him. You made eye contact briefly before he turned his attention back to the frying pan with the eggs. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was rather pleased right now.
"I Did Not Mind Letting Them Help By The Way," he said. "They Said They Wanted To Do Something Nice For You, So I Mostly Supervised So They Would Not Hurt Themselves."
"I appreciate it, thank you. I've taught them how to do a few things but they're still a little young to use the stove in my opinion."
Frisk grumbled and lightly bumped their head against your collarbone. When you glanced at them, they signed, "I wouldn't start a fire!"
"Maybe not, but you could burn yourself by accident," you gently chided and ruffled their fluffy hair.
They crossed their arms and pouted, although they couldn't stay annoyed for longer than ten seconds. With a small sigh, they finally nodded, "I know..."
"Thank you for thinking of me though. I feel so special," you said with a smile and gave them another hug for good measure.
(Edit: Just tagging @scrambledmeggys since I didn't earlier. Apologies, but you might get a couple more of these today...) (â ă„â ïœĄâ ââ âżâ âżâ ââ ïœĄâ )â ă„
#selfshipufpap#undertale#underfell#underfell papyrus#underfell papyrus x reader#reader#named oc#thwbd#the hand we've been dealt#alternate universe#raccoons drabbles
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On the subject of people insisting that Trish is Doppio's daughter instead of Diavolo's, I think the main reason that bothers me isn't because it's just incorrect, but because people use that to try and twist the narrative into "Diavolo is the evil monster that ruined poor Doppio's relationship and if only he was never there, Doppio could've stayed with Donatella and been a good father to Trish and none of this would've ever happened!"
You guys⊠Doppio actively helped Diavolo kill Trish. The point isn't that Diavolo is a horrible monster for getting in the way of Doppio's happy domestic life or whatever- the point is that Diavolo's paranoia and attempts to erase his past became a self-fulfilling prophecy as his own past actions finally caught up to him and led to his defeat.
As Diavolo became increasingly power-hungry, he lost his humanity in order to become completely untouchable by the outside world. He sabotaged his own life (including Doppio by extension) to sever all of his ties from the rest of humanity. He was willing to burn down his hometown, abandon his girlfriend, and eventually try to kill his kid because of his paranoia and lack of care for anyone but himself. His own daughter, a person he's supposed to care about, was instead a painful living reminder of his past that he wanted to dispose of at any cost.
Thatâs the moral of his character; when all you seek is power, you lose your humanity and sight of whatâs really important, which, in this case, was his child. This âDiavolo is the evil split personality getting in the way of Doppio being a good fatherâ narrative totally defeats the point (not to mention echoes the tiresome âsweet, innocent alter with an evil violent alterâ character trope that has been used to stigmatize people with Dissociative Identity Disorder for decades).
I feel the same way about the constant insistence that Doppio is the "real/original" of the two and that Diavolo is the "fake" one, whatever that means (if anything, it would be the reverse since the manga repeatedly calls Diavolo the "true form" and their "true nature"- though this entire idea of one being "fake" and one being "real" doesn't really make sense), the "Diavolo is actually a demon possessing Doppio" theories, and the constant babying of Doppio's character. It's all geared to favor Doppio and frame him as the pure victim and Diavolo as the practically inhuman monster, resulting in squashing out the depth in both of them (and honestly detracting attention from the real innocent victim, which is Trish.)
And itâs not like Doppio needs any of this mischaracterization to be interesting; thereâs genuine tragedy to his character as well. Diavoloâs obsession with self-isolation ends up dragging Doppio around with him as heâs used as a human vessel, even though Doppio does not desire this isolation for himself. As a result, heâs incredibly lonely and unhappy, depending on his Boss for companionship and instruction, never realizing that the one responsible for his loneliness in the first place is his Boss- who is also the other side of their fractured identity. In the end, heâs forcefully separated from Diavolo and ends up dying alone, deliriously begging for his Boss to call him despite Diavolo not even being there to hear him, never getting to discover the truth about himself. It reflects not only how brutally Diavolo treats others to achieve ultimate power, but also how he treats himself.
Character favoritism is fine- after all, Doppio is the more likable one, so it was inevitable- but I think it's leading people to make these two into worse characters, and that bothers me. You donât need to spout misconceptions, fall back on overdone mental illness tropes (really, canon is already bad enough as it is), and change the whole moral of their characters to make them interesting.
#vento aureo spoilers#shoe talks a lot#diavolo jjba#i hope this isn't swinging a bat at a hornet's nest sdfjdskfl this whole thing just. bothers me#i partially blame the anime adaptation for this because it changes up a lot to put doppio at the forefront in their backstory#when in the manga this was much more vague if not flipped around#but there's still clearly a fanon distortion thing going on here i think#ranting about fanon that i dislike is like a vent for me skfjdj sorry if this gets annoying. i mean no ill will to anyone of course#i must specify i think ''diavolo and doppio being good parents/caretakers to trish'' scenarios aren't like. inherently bad#it's when people say specifically that ''doppio could've been a good father if it weren't for his scary evil diavolo alter :(''
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Missing You
(( Hey, its another hurt/comfort fic! Learning that âFix-Itâ Senior has passed away, best friend in the whole wide world Ralph drops everything to be there for a grieving Felix. Honestly, this has been chipped on for quite a while now, and has mostly been something thatâs helped me with my own grief in a similar family situation. But I hope this can bring a little something to otherâs as well. Enjoy. )) ---
Ralphâs brows furrowed slightly when he looked at the caller ID on his phone. He rarely, if ever, got calls from Felixâs secretary. Quickly finding a somewhat quiet place in the active construction site around him, he flipped open his phone and answered.
âMary?â
âHello Ralph, dear,â the woman replied as sweetly as ever, though he could tell that something was off. âHow are you?â
âIâm fine. Whatâs up?â
âHasâhas Felix called you at all this past week or so?â
âNoâŠâ Ralphâs mind started racing. âWhy?â
The woman sighed on the other end of the line.
âWell, I am sorry that youâre finding out from me butâŠFelix Senior has passed away.â
âWhat?â Ralphâs heart skipped a beat.
âI know, itâs a terrible thing,â Mary lamented. âThe doctors say it was a heart attackâŠIt all happened so quickly.â
âOh my God,â Ralph couldnât quite believe what he was hearing. Felix hadnât told him anything. âHowâhow is Felix taking all this?â
âWell thatâs partly why I called you, dear,â Maryâs voice trembled. âHe wonât leave the house⊠Folks have come by with food and sympathy cards and itâs all just piling up by the doorâŠâ
Ralph's heart sank as she went on. Felix was struggling, and he wasnât there.
âOh Ralph, I managed to get him to open the door for me briefly and he looked like heâd lost weightâŠI donât think heâs eating.â
âShitâŠâ he knew Felix didnât grieve well, but this was far worse than heâd ever imagined.
âYou two have always been so close,â Mary said tearfully. âI thought maybe if you call him, heâll answer. He just needs to talk to somebodyâ Oh, I donât know what to doâŠâ
âHey, hey, itâs okay,â Ralph reassured her. âThank you for telling me, Iâll try and get in touch with him right now, okay?â
âOkay,â the woman sniffed. âThank you.â
Mary hung up, and immediately Ralph dialed Felixâs cellphone, which went straight to voicemail.
âCome onâŠâ Ralph bit his lower lip as he tried the house phone. It rang, and rang until the voicemail picked up. A lump caught in his throat as Felix Sr. prompted him to leave a message.
âHeyâŠâ he said solemnly after the beep. âIâuhâŠI just got the news that your dad passed away. Iâm so sorry, I wish I was thereâŠâ
Ralph gulped, finding the next words to stay. He held onto the hope that Felix was listening.
âFelix, pleaseâŠPlease call me back when you can. Iâm worried about you. Love you, budâŠâ
Those last words hung heavy in his throat as he disconnected and closed his phone. Steadying himself, he took in a couple calming breaths. This was a problem, and the solution was clear. Strengthening his resolve, Ralph removed and tossed aside his hard hat as he turned to leave.
Vanellope jumped as she heard someone unlock and burst through the hotel room door. Craning her neck, she saw Ralph in the entryway, removing his reflector vest.
âUhh, hiââ she said, turning off the gangster movie sheâd been watching. âYouâre back early.â
âPack your things, we gotta go,â he replied, grabbing his duffel and shoving his clothes inside.
âWhy?â the girl tilted her head. âDid you get fired again?â
âNo, IâuhâŠI resigned. Sort of.â
âWhatâs going on?â Vanellope asked nervously, noticing her guardianâs flustered state.
Ralph paused what he was doing, and let out a sigh. Dropping his bag, he knelt in front of the girl as she sat on the edge of her mattress.
âKidâŠâ he placed his hand on her shoulder. âSenior passed away.â
Vanellopeâs eyes went wide, and in a rare occurrence, she was at a loss for words. It didnât make any sense; he seemed just fine when theyâd left.
âOh, kid,â Ralph hugged the girl as tears began to surface. âI know, itâs sadâŠâ Getting misty-eyed himself, he let her cry things out.
âWhâwhat about Felix?â she asked between hitched breaths. âIs he o-okay?â
âHeâs taking it really hardâŠThatâs why weâre leaving; so we can go be with him. I think thatâd be good for all of us, yeah?â
âYeah,â the girl nodded, wiping her tears with her sleeve.
âYou good?â
âMhm,â Vanellope hopped off the bed and packed her things between sniffles.
A long night-shift included, it took the pair roughly a day and a half to get back home to their small hometown of Niceland. Ralph had tried calling Felix periodically throughout the trip, without any luck.
The large man sighed, nervously gripping the steering wheel with both hands. He looked down at Vanellope sleeping soundly in the passengerâs seat as he turned to park in front of the tiny office building of ââFix-Itâ Felix Handy Repairs.â Leaving the girl briefly, Ralph tried the front door. A small bell jingled as he opened it.
âRalph!â a short, middle-aged woman gasped as she peered over her desktop computer.
âHey, Mary,â he gave her a tired smile. âSurprise!â
âOh my word!â she couldnât help but get emotional. Rounding the desk, Mary gave him a hug. âWhen I called you, I didnât expect you to come back all this wayâŠOh I hope it wasnât too much trouble.â
âNo, no, itâs all good,â Ralph wasnât quite sure what to do with his hands, resigning to an awkward pat on the womanâs back. âI couldnât get a hold of Felix either so I figured this would be best. IsâŠis it alright if you watch Vanellope while I go check on him? I justâI donât know what Iâm about to walk into.â
âOh of course, of course!â Mary nodded emphatically. âAnything you need!â
Ralph gently brought the sleeping girl inside and placed her on the couch across from Maryâs desk, thanking her before leaving. --
Taking a deep breath, Ralph parked parallel to the curb of the Felix residence. Stepping up to the porch, he saw what Mary had been talking about. Dried up flowers and various bags and containers of food sat neglected on the handymanâs doorstep, along with a quilt of various sympathy cards laying across the welcome mat.
Pushing the items aside, Ralph pulled out his copy of the house key and cautiously opened the door.
âFelix?â he called out, stepping into a quiet living room. Peering into the kitchen, he spotted piles of old dishes sitting on the counter and overwhelming the sink.
Nervous, Ralph called out again. Stepping into the hallway, he took notice of the partially opened door to Seniorâs room.
âFelix?â Ralph questioned as he entered. His eyes went straight to the bed, a lump lying underneath the blankets.
He walked over to the far side of the bed frame, and leaned over to find Felix nestled among the pillows and sheets, staring into space.
Gently, Ralph moved to sit on the edge of the mattress, extending a hand and placing it on the handymanâs side.
âHey,â he said softly.
As if broken from a trance, Felixâs eyes met his.
âRalph?â he rasped, sitting up. His eyes grew wide with realization. âW-what are you doing here?â
As the smaller man unfurled himself from the bed linens, Ralphâs eyes darted around his petite frame. He was pale, and his white undershirt hung more loosely on his torso than usual.
âI uhââ Ralph cleared his throat. âMary told me what happenedâŠâ
The handyman flinched, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. But despite his efforts, Felix completely fell apart. Clinging to Ralph, he sobbed.
âIâm so sorry,â he croaked. âI should have told you what was going onâŠI justâŠI couldnâtââ
âHey, hey, itâs okay,â Ralph wrapped his arms around his friend, holding him tightly. âItâs okayâŠâ
âIt all happened so fastâŠâ
âI know.â
Ralph had only been gone a month for the new construction job he got the next state over. It was humbling, being reminded how quickly things can change. Which was why he was so glad heâd dropped everything to be here, right now, holding his grieving friend tight.
When Felix calmed down, Ralph slowly pulled away, brushing his fingers along the handymanâs thin arms.
âHave you eaten lately?â he asked without judgment; nodding slowly when his friend didnât answer.
âI donât know about you, but Iâm pretty hungry,â Ralph encouraged Felix to stand up. âLetâs see what we can scrounge up.â
In truth, he wasnât hungry at all, but he knew the handyman would respond better to fulfilling someone else's needs other than his own. With some gentle coaxing, they moved into the dining area attached to the kitchen.
âHere,â the larger man pulled a chair out and sat the small man down. He was too frail at the moment to stand for long periods of time. âSit here, Iâll see what weâve got to work with.â
As Felix sat with a glass of water, Ralph took a closer look at the state of things. The fridge had a scant few items inside, some of which were now expired. In the cupboards were some canned goods, and moldy bread. Ralph grabbed a fresh packet of pasta atop one of the pantry shelves and said a little prayer as he stepped into the adjacent room to look in the chest freezer, where batch meals and ice creams were generally stocked.
With a smile, he located and pulled out a container of the âFix-Itâ familyâs homemade spaghetti sauce. Senior had always made sure to keep at least a batch of it frozen at any time, âjust in case.â
Placing the tupperware in the microwave, Ralph set it to defrost before rolling up his sleeves to tackle the pile of dishes in the sink. Occasionally, he looked from the sudsy water in front of him to Felix, who simply sat, staring at the empty placemat in front of him.
When the microwave beeped, the large man dried his hands, grabbing a couple of clean pots and filling the larger one with water. Soon enough, he had the sauce simmering on one burner, and a handful of pasta boiling on the other.
Having finished with the dishes, Ralph kneeled beside Felixâs chair.
âItâll be about 15 more minutes,â he said, not even sure the handyman was listening. âDo you want to try and take a shower before we eat?â
Felix nodded subtly.
âThank you,â he said quietly, acknowledging everything that Ralph was doing for him.
âNo problem, bud. Come on,â he helped the handyman to the bathroom, supplying him with fresh towels and clothes.
âDonât lock the door. If I donât hear from you by time dinnerâs ready, I am coming in,â Ralph instructed, giving his friend fair warning.
âOkay,â Felix mumbled, closing the door, leaving it open just a smidge.
Ralph had just put Seniorâs bed linens in the wash when Felix returned to the dining room, refreshed. He shuffled into the kitchen to grab some clean silverware, pausing in the middle of his task.
âWhereâs Vanellope?â the handyman asked.
âMaryâs watching her,â Ralph said, relieved that the fog clouding his friendâs mind was beginning to clear. âWeâll save her some and pick her up later.â
Felix nodded, and a sudden bout of dizziness struck him. One of his hands reached out to the counter for support, and Ralph caught on quickly, wrapping an arm around the handymanâs waist as he stumbled.
âHey, you need to sit down,â Ralph held the smaller man steady as he moved him back in his seat. âYou can set our places from here.â
âS-sorryâŠâ Felix said tearily, ashamed that heâd let his health slip this far.
âYou donât need to apologize,â Ralph reassured just before the kitchen timer buzzed. Within a few minutes, he was back at the table, steaming plates of spaghetti in hand.
âDig in,â he said, sitting down and grabbing his fork. In the amount of time it took to make dinner, Ralph had worked up an appetite. He only hoped his friend would be just as receptive to the meal placed in front of him.
Felix took a few laborious bites, eyes brimming with tears as he chewed. Ralph looked on with sympathy, reaching a hand out when the handyman stopped completely.
âI know itâs hard,â He smoothed a thumb over his friendâs wrist. âKeep trying.â
With a bit more effort, Felix managed to eat at least half of his portion before stopping again, placing a hand over his mouth as he leaned on his elbow, looking away.
âWhy donât we save this and go pick up the kid,â Ralph suggested, taking the handymanâs bowl.
Vanellope must have seen or heard the truck pulling up to the office, as she had thrown open its front door by the time Ralph put it in park. And in seeing her, Felix had grown frantic, fumbling with his seat belt.
Ralph undid the buckle for him, and reached over to open the door. The handyman spilled out of the vehicle, kneeling on the curbside just in time to wrap the girl running to him in a tight embrace. âFelix!â
âOh princessâŠâ The handyman sobbed. âI missed you so much.â
âI missed you too,â Vanellope mirrored his emotions. âIâmâIâm sorry about your dad.â
Mary stood in the office doorway, quickly pulling out a handkerchief to dry her own face. Even Ralphâs eyes were wetted by the pair's tearful reunion.
--
The day had been long for the three of them, Felix and Vanellope succumbing to slumber early in the evening, however, the handyman awoke in the middle of the night with a start.
Sitting up in bed, he tried to get rid of the dryness in his mouth, grabbing for the glass of water on the nightstand. Downing the last couple of sips left, the handyman sighed, fighting against the fatigue to pull himself up to get some more.
Felix was halfway down the hall when a small whimper met his ear, followed by a sniffle. Peering into the living room, he spotted Ralphâs silhouette perched on the couch, bathed in moonlight. The large manâs slumped shoulders quivered as he held his face, more soft sobs piercing the otherwise quiet atmosphere.
The handyman slowly approached, startling his friend when he was spotted just beyond the coffee table. Ralph looked up at him, cheeks wet with tears he quickly began wiping away. Silently, Felix closed the distance, climbing onto the couch to lean on his friend and hold his large hand.
âIâm sorry,â the handyman whispered. âYou were being strong for Vanellope and I today. That must have been hard⊠I know how much he meant to you.â
Try as he might, there was no stopping the gentle flow that poured from the corners of his eyes. Senior was the closest thing Ralph ever had to a father figure. In a town full of people who judged him for his upbringing, or for the way that he looked; when he became friends with Felix, Senior showered him with love and compassion from day one. In their home, Ralph always felt welcome; like he belonged.
âI wish I was hereâŠâ he sobbed. âI wish I never took that stupid construction job.Then maybeâŠMaybeââ
âRalph, thereâs nothing you could have done.â
âBut at least I would have been here for you sooner. I hate thinking of you being alone in his house, for days, while I was off helping some rich assholes put up another shitty shopping mall.â
âLanguage, Ralphie,â Felix smiled, recounting those two words as something his father would have to say very often. Despite his emotions, Ralph couldnât help but laugh.
âGod,â the large man sniffled as another wave of sadness washed over him. âIâm going to miss that.â
âThereâs a lot of things to miss about dad,â Felix nodded. âAnd I donât know if this makes any sense, but now that you and Vanellope are hereâŠhe doesnât feel so far away.
Ralph smiled, squeezing his friend's hand, understanding what he meant. He felt it too.
âI am sorry you quit your job though. You were being paid well.â
âIâll find something else,â Ralph shrugged. âYou know me, I always manage to get by. Right now, I just wanna be homeâŠâ
Felix leaned his head on the larger manâs shoulder, feeling blessed to have a friend like Ralph for times like this. Someone to lean on, to grieve with, to listen. There were many ways in which âFix-Itâ Senior lived on in him; in all of them. Subtle, yet unmistakable ways that only they would know and perceive. His was a presence that would be missed, but never be truly gone; as long as they were together.
âHomeâŠâ
#character death#hurt/comfort#fix it felix#wreck it ralph#crafty writes#sorry like#this is a really personal fic#but I still really wanted to share it#cause there's a lot of people out there who have lost someone#you're not alone
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Thereâs a special kind of grief, for me, that I canât really distill enough for other people to understand.
Thereâs something about the mythical promises of the â90s, and the reality of what we actually inherited, thatâs just⊠How do you explain that? How do you explain the raw exhaustion, the dissonance between âYou can be anything,â and then having to look at my kids. My kids, who are not told they can be anything. My kids, who are told instead, âfind your joy and fight for it.â My kids, who arenât told, âthe world will open up for you,â because it wonât. Theyâre told, âBe kind, but be fierce.â
We were not well off when I was a kid. We lived all over the place, none of them nice, and Iâd go literal days without seeing the supposed adult in the house because she worked three jobs. But I was told, over and over and o v e r: itâll get better.
Go to college. Youâll make bank. Youâll never have to worry again. Just make it to adulthood, and everything will be perfect. The world will open up before you. You can do anything.
Except I went to college. I did all the right things. Weâre still not doing okayâjust better than when I was a kid. And honestly, thats mostly because my parental figure was a fucking teenager who didnât even go to high school, and definitely didnât realize how badly she was getting raked over the coals, and Still Is Bad With Money. Also still thinks unions are the reason she got fired from the one good job she had, without realizing that a union would have protected her.
Weâre doing all the right things.
My partnerâs got like five degrees. He works two jobs, because the national guard is the only reason he managed to get those degrees. Heâs had a retirement fund going since he was fourteen years oldâ last year we got a notice saying the fund LOST SEVEN GRAND, because *the company* didnât make enough for the year. We shouldnât be worrying about retirement. Weâre in out 30s. I donât know that weâll get to retire.
You can do anything! You can grow up and be whatever you want! Pick something you love because youâll do it every single day!
And now I have to look at my kids and go: you have to find that fine line. You have to survive. You have to find something that doesnât actively make you want to die when you wake up but will still let you fucking eat. Youâll have to fight every day. Youâll have to find your people. Youâll have to root your happiness like a dandelion in the cracks of the sidewalk and itâs going to be the hardest thing youâll ever do.
We did everything we were told we should do, and the world is worse every time I look up.
I canât tell my kids âyou can do anything you want.â
I have to tell them, âdonât let the world kill you.â I have to tell them, âFind your joy and hold onto it no matter how much the world tries to break you for it.â
Thereâs that quote I canât remember right, something about I studied war so my child can study art. Well. I studied education so my kids can learn. I studied, and the world regressed, and now Iâm fighting so you can sleep better than I do at night.
I donât know, man.
We talk about it sometimes, my partner and I. How if weâd known, if weâd fucking known, we wouldnât have even had kids, because they deserve better. They didnât ask for this. They shouldnât have to deal with it. But 14-15 years ago, the world seemed like it was maybe going places. Like we might make that progress. Like if we could just hold on for a little while longer, things would hit that magic Better weâd been promised.
Or maybe I just didnât know better, and I thought Iâd already lived through the worst of it.
âTry not to think about it too much,â the so-called anxiety specialist recommends during our once a month meet-ups. âYouâve got happy kids, thatâs all that matters. You canât do anything about the rest of the world.â
And like. Sheâs right. I canât. I CANâT. And thatâs the crux of it, I think. I suffered, and they should not fucking have to. I clawed up my way up, and they should not have to. Iâm terrified, and they should not fucking know what thatâs like. Cramming in some yoga or meditation or focusing on learning new skills isnât going to un-fuck the world Iâm in. But Iâm angry about it.
Because I DO have happy kids, and I know thatâs a fucking privilege. But holy fuck, Iâd like them to have the ability to be happy adults.
Iâm tired. And Iâm so fucking full of grief I donât know where to put because it never ends.
#momma talks#anyway. vote blue. because itâs. itâs literally all I can do to try and make tomorrow less shitty.#thinks i got a little too caught up in today: a ramble
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Arkhelios Adventures
The Bellamy house was alive with activity and noise. Three pottery wheels churned loudly as their users struggled to master the motions needed to control the clay. Only the oldest Bellamys were trying their best to make plates out of clay lumps. The twins were with their father and Saturnia was visiting her grandmother to give Roman and Abe some bonding time with their young teenager. Abe Jr was down for a nap, allowing the Bellamys to get started on their craft without interruption.
âThis was my motherâs favourite medium to work with,â Roman said to no one in particular. Abe already knew about Kamalaniâs art work and Theo wasnât paying attention to anything but the whirling wheel before him. âI donated some of her pieces to the Strangetown Art Gallery once I figured out that she was semi-famous there. I think theyâre even more popular now that sheâs dead.â
Well, somewhat dead anyway. Mostly dead. Dead enough to never return...I hope.
While his father pondered the status of his deity angering mother, Theo gave up on his plate and turned his wheel off. This was boring and pointless. Roman was clearly trying to prove some point to his son, though about what, Theo had no idea. His other father was focused intensely on his project, trying to force the clay to follow his design with minimal results. This little craft exercise had failed. Neither one of his parents were interacting with Theo, aside from Romanâs ramblings, and whatever bonding theyâd been hoping for with their son was never going to happen.
They meant well, which had to count for something. Some of his friends' parents barely saw them or never tried to spend time with them and here Theo's parents were, trying their best to bond with him. Theo had better things to do than sitting around watching a wheel turn while his parents pretended that their relationship was still fine. He could hang out with his friends or study for his latest potion exam on a day like this. He wasn't a baby anymore. His parents had a new baby now to occupy their time with anyway.Â
It took only seconds to dial the number he'd had memorized since grade school. While Theo had a dedicated circle of friends, there was one person he wanted to see more than anyone else.
"Hello, Adam? Are you busy? Do you want to hang out this afternoon? My parents are being weird again. Yeah, some craft that my crazy grandma sold a lot of back in the day. I know, right? It's insane. Oh, you're hanging out with Medora? Well come to Arkhelios and we'll all hang out at the usual place."
Theo listened intently to Adam's reply, staring at his little brother playing loudly in the hall. His parents had Abe to focus on now, so surely they wouldn't mind if he left for a few hours. They might even prefer his absence, so they could continue to talk out their various problems without their kids nearby to overhear. They would definitely welcome the space to talk amongst themselves, Theo just knew it. By hanging out with Adam and Medora, he'd be doing his parents a favour.
After hanging up with Adam, Theo sent a quick text to his father's phone and vanished into thin air once it had sent. It truly was easier to beg for forgiveness than ask permission.
Roman looked at his phone, hearing it buzz faintly over the turning of his wheel. After reading it, he angrily turned to where he had assumed Theo was and saw only a mess where his son should be.
"Dammit!" he swore, alerting Abe from his own project. "Abe, your son has abandoned father-son time to 'hang out with his friends'. It's not like he lives with those friends at school and sees them everyday or anything. We only see him for a brief time in a month and now he's leaving us again."
"At least he's letting us know where he is," Abe pointed out, looking as disappointed as his husband. âI never want to relive that time he ran away from home. Who knows if we'd ever find him again. He knows a lot more about the world now and could get into so much worse trouble."
"You're afraid of the same thing I am?" Roman asked, looking curious despite his efforts to hide his fear. "That he'll follow our example? That he's going to throw away his future on a boy?"
"Of course," Abe confirmed, looking disappointed that Roman even had to ask. "Why wouldn't I? I don't know why you think that you're on your own, Roman. He's our son; we're in this together. We're on the same team."
"Yeah?"
For an instant, Roman forgot his worry over his teenage son and allowed himself to feel hope like he'd forgotten how to.
"Yeah."
Roman's heart fluttered like he was the teenager in the household. Abe was saying all the things he wanted to hear, all the things he thought he'd never hear again from his husband. He and Abe had a rocky history with trust and teamwork, but maybe things were starting to get better between them. Maybe they worked better when they were under pressure or in danger and had a common enemy to fight. They were both stubborn and convinced they each had the right idea for every problem, but when it counted, Abe and Roman stuck together.
From the very second Abe learned he was pregnant at sixteen to the time he sat next to an unresponsive Roman who had just been shot, Abe had vowed to never leave Roman's side and Roman had done the same. Sure, neither one of them had been great at upholding that vow over the years, but they had made it just the same and confirmed it again when they married. It wasn't a demonic contract anymore, but despite everything that had happened between them, Abe knew that he would always treat it like it was. For better or worse, his fate was tied to Roman Bellamy and no demon, teenager or affair could ever change that. Heâd never let it.
#sims 2#arkhelios#arkhelios adventures#abe chun#roman bellamy#theo bellamy#sim: theo bellamy#abe III Bellamy
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I feel like the essence of this torment is that I only ever felt loneliness, from the moment I was born, even.
I have learned that I could not trust people to take care of me, so I had to learn how to take care of myself. And it's not possible to heal this relationship between myself and other people on my own, nor is it possible to do so relying on temporary and conditional connections - these have taught me yet another thing: that I cannot rely on others, because they will go away, or I will leave, or some unforeseen circumstance will drive us apart.
I've been told this is "normal" and that I ought get used to it, while having my trauma dismissed and invalidated (even if indirectly).
I can be the most healed person in the planet, with the biggest self-esteem, and those wounds will never really close, the scars will never really stop hurting me because I've been doing it all on my own and, now I can see it, obviously, it only make matters worse...
Even if I treat my trauma and become virtually asymptomatic, I still have my triggers and they'll still be activated in the exact same ways. The only difference is my response to them - usually, you just brush it off and "it's no big deal," you continue living and it's not the end of the world. Alright. Nothing is addressed at all. Just how you react to a problem changes. You haven't solved it.
How can I solve emotional neglect, stemming from dysfunctional or nonexistent social links? How can I address these trust issues and fears, without having people who I can actually trust and feel safe around? Among other things.
Because, so far, I have reached a very good place where you could say this is "remission" and I have several relationships and connections with several different people, where I feel safe and secure...
...While, at the same time, I'm ready to be dropped from the face of Earth, because I literally cannot trust any of these relationships on a foundational level - the level that pertains to those old wounds and my trauma.
So, in some twisted ways, I'm happy I have lots of internet friends and people I talk to regularly, and I also believe a day might come when all these relationships will disappear from my life (again) and it will be fine, too. I was expecting it.
I never really had any hope they would be something long-lasting or safe for me anyway.
Obviously, it's nobody's fault. This is just how things are for me at the moment and I have not had success in addressing the root of the issue, because I feel, essentially, alone.
This is not because I want to, or because I don't try to address it. It's because it requires other people, it requires their effort and them showing up for me too, it requires responsibilities on their end towards me, it requires a level of commitment and intimacy that I will never be able to experience through my communities or friends, not even my closest ones.
I have a few close friends and even now I do not see them as "family," it's likely I never will.
These relationships being virtual is part of the reason. The other part probably has to do with these abandonment issues of mine... but anyways, I put "family" and "romantic partners" in my innermost circle of connections and that circle is empty. It has been for a while now.
I understand looking at relationships "hierarchically" like that is probably more counterproductive than it is helpful but, in my mind, it makes sense because it is all a matter of priorities (this is why I have a very hard time understanding relationship anarchy and how people don't see hierarchy in their own relationships): the further away from your inner circle people are, the less time and energy you'll spend on them. This is why people will dedicate their times to spouses and kids, while best friends and acquaintances might take on a more secondary role; similarly, your relationship with a broader community and the people in it will never be on the same degree of closeness as your relationship with your childhood friends.
Those are not bad things per se, I don't think, It's just that we only have so much capacity to do so much without completely burning out. I would personally prefer to nurture a few (or even one) very close relationships, than spreading my energy around trying to befriend everyone - which is the thing I've been doing for the last couple of months, which would explain why I'm so exhausted, huh?
But I guess I don't have a choice, do I? Deep inside, I'm hoping some close relationship might come out of these, and not only hoping, actually saying so to people, too. But I have had no success so far. Big deal, right? Well, it kind of is... considering it's really draining me.
I need a family, a romantic partner. Anything else will not suffice, and will only cause frustration, but there's no other way to find family and partners than going through this discomfort I guess... (and meanwhile, I try to pretend dating apps don't exist so it's not even something that crosses my mind anymore).
Just because I need that, doesn't mean I'll get it, so this is where all that acceptance part comes into play: how to become able to live in discomfort over unmet needs? What can be done to alleviate that pain and those emotions? And so many other questions...
I guess it feels... good? To finally be able to admit that this is a need of mine, and there's no shame in it - it's scientifically backed too, so I'm not talking nonsense here... Unfortunately, this is one of the many things that's out of one's control so I can only do my best to mitigate the issues. I try to.
I also hope I'll eventually feel less tired. So I'm able to enjoy life fully and do lots of things I want to do. I'm working hard for that and it's only a matter of time.
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When I was a kid we had a neighbor our age who was also autistic and he would kiss us even if we hated it no matter how much we asked him to stop. We were all kids. So we'd just yell "stop! Go away!" And slam the door etc etc etc even if we were fine hanging out up until that point, and we'd be fine again tomorrow.
Turns out I'm also autistic. And one of the ways it manifests for me is an inability to understand what anyone is saying unless they are being extremely explicit about what they mean, how they mean it, and what they're referring to. Otherwise I just guess what people mean. I often guess wrong. This usually makes things worse. The allistic world has no idea how much goes implicitly understood when they speak; they just hope I can keep up.
Obviously, on some level, he should have stopped and asked what we meant, right? We were too upset to be clear about it. But i can't help but wonder if maybe it was a language issue, in the same way I have. Would that have helped? Would that have changed anything? Was he deliberately overriding our boundaries or did he not understand what the problem was in the first place?
None of this makes it better an experience for me, but does it not matter? How do we decide someone's disability is malicious intent?
Sometimes I think you guys would throw me to the slaughter and call it activism
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Iâve said before that I really like Succession, I think itâs a great show, but it canât become one of my favourites because Iâm not emotionally invested in it. I donât care what happens. And I was thinking today that the problem that keeps me from getting emotionally invested is built into a show about billionaires, nothing the writers could do would change that.
The problem is that any one of these people, at any time, could choose to stop being part of it. To stop working in that company and actively ruining the world, and just take all their money and live in luxury somewhere else for the rest of their life. That would still be unethical and everything, living off money they didnât earn but someone else obtained by exploiting and ruining the world, but at least they wouldnât be an active participant. Theyâd just take enough for themselves, which is a drop in the bucket, hardly enough to matter, and they could live easily forever. The Roy kids could definitely do that. But even the top-level employees could probably be fine, if they took that golden parachute people keep referencing. Theyâve worked at the very lucrative company long enough so between pension plans and stock holdings, they have the option of getting out and living well. Theyâre all choosing to stay there, in a job where they make the world worse, just because they want to.
Thatâs even what some of them were doing when the show started. Connor was living on a ranch, hanging out with the woman he bought, and ignoring everyone else. Siobhan was working in politics just because I guess she enjoyed the adrenaline of it, but she didnât need to. They all chose to get back involved in ruining the world with their family, they could easily have just stayed away.
I think of my favourite workplace sitcoms â off the top of my head, The Thick of It, 30 Rock, Parks and Rec. All of those have significant stakes, because if the main characters fuck up badly enough, they get fired, and then they wonât be able to pay their rent/mortgage. Also, in at least two of the three, the main characters are working to make the world a better place in some small way, and if they fuck up the world is worse off, so we care about them getting it right. That might not quite apply to 30 Rock â I think the show makes it clear that the world would be fine without TGS â but at the very least theyâre providing livelihoods for all the employees. Succession has aspects in common with the other Jesse Armstrong thing The Thick of It, like the biting dialogue and everything, but it has none of the stakes because everyone could just stop doing this stuff and theyâd be fine. While in Peep Show, those guys are one fuckup away from homelessness.
Succession just doesnât have that, and canât have that, because of the premise of the show. So I can enjoy watching it, but Iâm never going to feel concerned on a characterâs behalf, because even if everything goes as wrong as possible, the consequences are living in luxury forever. They created a few characters to whom that doesnât apply, I guess specifically to make it so the stakes matter for someone, like Greg. But Gregâs such a dick that no one wants him to do well anyway.
Also, Succession writers, you can make all your characters unequivocally terrible people who actively choose to ruin the world because living off ill-gotten gains without actively participating in making things even worse isnât enough for them, or you can have me feel sympathy for them when their dad dies. You canât have both.
They threw one line into the first episode of season 4 to try to create some stakes, having Kendall say he needs to remain immersed in the high-octane world of corporate jockeying or else heâll turn to drugs due to lack of stimulation. But, come on, he could take his millions and use them to buy stimulation elsewhere. Take up bungee jumping.
Itâs a very good show. It has amazingly good writing and acting and directing and cinematography and things like that. Itâs fun to watch. I just donât care what happens, beyond vaguely wanting everyone in it to have their company dissolved, their assets seized and redistributed, and then go to jail.
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128
CHAPTER 9
of privacy, this and other creative steps taken in the same direction raised school attendance and cut Midland County's juvenile detention
rate in half.'
Regardless of whether Texas truancy laws have changed for the better or for the worse, Larry Flores (Frio County) has found a variety of ways to make an impact on the children in his precinct. He knows kids. He used to be a schoolteacher, but even his background as a police officer gives him an advantage in working with kids.
This is a small town. We're very limited in resources. What helps me a lot is the experience I had as a teacher, so I understand more or less where the student is coming from. Also, most of the parents are ex-students, so I know the family's background. The parents know who I am, so we try to work together as much as possible out of respect.
Most of the kids are very good kids, but sometimes the school system doesn't have the resources to keep them engaged in school. They lose in-terest, so I try to motivate them - get them into band or playing football.
Michael Jones Jr. (Dallas County) asks the kids he sees for truancy to write an essay, which gets them thinking about how to change their situation and how to improve their chances for a promising future.
Tell me how you're going to get up on time, get to school on time. Tell me what you're going to do when you get out of school. Are you going to be a doctor? How do you become a doctor? You have a higher chance of achieving a goal if you put your mind to it. The ones who are undecided, I have them fill out a job application.
Judge Flores looks for ways to encourage kids and keep them in-volved. In particular, he decries the school shootings we've seen over the last twenty-five years, and wonders about the things that could have been done to keep the perpetrators from reaching a point of such violent hostility toward everyone around them.
I want this kid to walk out of here and respect that we're here to help him, to walk out of my court at least with a smile. If I have to spend all day on truancy, I'll do it. That's my personal philosophy in handling the kids.
Like I say, when I see them out on the street or in school, I just want to shake their hands and maybe hug them, and say, "You're doing a good job." Judge Flores has found that now that he's a judge-having once been a police officer â he can take those experiences when he visits classrooms and engage the students in personal ways. He still teaches driver's ed, where he often talks about what he's seen as an inquest judge, opening
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their eyes to the real-world consequences of the choices they make as they move into adulthood (most dramatically on the county's roadways).
He tells the kids that his biggest fear as a justice of the peace is having to go out at two in the morning to certify the death of one of his students.
There are other forms of juvenile misbehavior and law-breaking that can place an adolescent before a justice of the peace. While Texas's juvenile courts have jurisdiction over kids who violate most state laws- they hear those cases in which delinquent conduct is at issue or in which the child is potentially in need of supervision-there are still areas of the law in which jPs are actively involved in the welfare of the state's kids.
Texas's justice courts handle fine-only misdemeanors that can involve kids, some of which are offenses unique to adolescents. For example, IPs adjudicate juvenile alcohol offenses, tobacco offenses, disorderly conduct cases, and cases involving graffiti vandalism.
What keeps me up at night? I have teenagers. â Hon. Jon Glenn, Eastland County
Like Judge Flores, Katy Marlow worked as a teacher (for eighteen years. She also drove the school bus and did a lot of other school-re-lated jobs in Foard, one of Texas's smallest counties. She places a lot of importance on dealing with juvenile crime.
I know most of the kids from the school. I assure them that we all do things wrong. Sometimes their minds just don't work and they don't comprehend things as fast as they should. If I have to magistrate them, they start crying because they feel like they've disappointed me.
Yadi Rodriguez (Hutchinson County) is heavily invested in the kids she sees in her court. She's gone above and beyond with some of the children she sees, on occasion buying them clothes and groceries. "I will continue to do that so they can continue to go to school."
I counsel kids that have gotten into trouble. One day a week I get them to come by after school. You just get them in there and you shut the door and you say, "Tell me what's on your mind."
-Hon. Rodney Baker, Bailey County
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