#why can’t people talk about mental health but be normal about it

[ilostyou]

BAD take. bad take

[floral-hex]

I’m fucking disabled

[planetwaynez]

FLOWERS AND GOLDEN STRINGS

CHAPTER TWO

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Soulmate AU!

Chapter Synopsis: Jason can't stop thinking about the flower shop girl, and beacuse of that he takes matters into his own hands. Y/N feels like she is being watched.

WARNINGS: stalking, mentions of crimes and drugs, mental health talk. If there is more let me know.

WORDS: 1,5k

TAGLIST: @27drunkdeer @solarrexplosion @mariam12344 @nyxisnotok

NOTES: This one is a shorter one but it's a important one!!! hope u all enjoy <3 take a look at the tags! every chapther will have a different type of flower in the tags, representing the feelings of Jason and Y/N!

Jason takes a deep breath after he finishes telling Roy about the encounter with the flower shop girl, and how that gave him an uneasy feeling. He is sitting on the couch and Roy is standing in front of him, arms crossed, hair tied up in a man bun and furrowed eyebrows, deep in thought. 

“Just a weird feeling?” he asks, now looking Jason in the eye. To Roy there is only one explanation to Jason’s uneasiness: He found his soulmate, but they didn’t touch, therefore, they are not properly linked to each other. However, Roy also knows his best friend and if he says his theory, Jason is going to close himself off. So he keeps it neutral. 

“Yes” the brunette answers, not quite looking at his friend, thinking that he is probably just with another crush, like it happened before. To Jason, the idea of finding his soulmate is impossible. To him, after he died, there is no more link, after all, he was gone. There is no way.

Roy disagreed. But he kept to himself, after all, every time they had this conversation, they ended up not talking for several months. 

“Ok, it could be a crush, you know?” Once again the redhead tries the safe line of conversation, not pushing Jason’s limits. 

“Yes” but his answer doesn't sound genuine, not even to him. Roy arches an eyebrow, looking at Jason as if he's full of bullshit. And he is, and they both know it.

“What? You think that the flower shop girl is some type of rogue?” Roy jokes but he sees it in his friends eyes when Jason finds an excuse.

Since he came back, Jason is always finding an excuse to do things, especially to his feelings, so it’s not a surprise that he is trying to associate a normal, kind flower shop girl to some crime scheme. 

“She could be” he gets up, as if he just got a revelation and Roy is shocked with his friend, even though he expected it. “That’s probably why I got this weird feeling towards her, it’s my gut telling me she is a rogue”

Jason is looking at Roy with arms open and a sort of crazy look in his eyes, but the redhead doesn’t say anything too out of the line, after all, he knows that Jason already made up his mind. This is Jason’s excuse to watch over the store and find out more about the girl that picked up his interest. 

“You are unbelievable” 

Roy leaves to his bedroom, not wanting to continue the talk or he would end up telling Jason to go to therapy, again, and that’s always a complicated subject. So he leaves his friend alone and, in his loneliness, Jason can’t stop thinking about her, a tight feeling settling in his chest, like a rope ready to snap any moment. It’s uncomfortable and weird and makes his breath uneven. She is just too adorable and kind and so not deserving of having a crazy crime lord vigilante on her back.

However, Jason is too curious.

He is going to find out more about her. 

….

Y/N always loved the idea of soulmates. Someone destined to be with you, someone that will always understand you and support and love no matter what, this gravitational force that is so strong and out of this world that makes two people in love, their souls linked in this life and many others. To her, soulmates exist to bring some type of comfort to people and she feels comforted by the idea. Since she was a little girl, she has dreamed of the day she will meet hers, and deep down she already loves them, because she can feel it. The string moving and adapting, looking for its other half. 

As another client leaves the shop, she moves her shoulders, trying to break the tension. As much as she loves love and seeing people in love, after some time it gets tiring hearing all those beautiful stories while selling flowers, while waiting for her turn to be gifted. She can feel the tension leaving a bit, but not enough, as if her body kept alert because of something lurking in the dark.

It's been weeks since she started feeling this way, as if she is being watched. Rationally, Y/N knows she works in a considerably dangerous zone, but the Sunshine Flower Shop, owned by Mrs.Sullivan was never a target, after all, it's been open for years and Mrs.Sullivan knows everyone and since the Red Hood took over the most fragile parts of the city he made sure two rules stuck. 1. Never swelling drugs to minors and 2. Never taking from theirs; The second rule basically tells minor criminals that they can’t take away from their own people, from their one neighborhood. So she knows that they wouldn't risk it. At least that’s what she likes to think. 

“You seem a bit off, dear, what's wrong?” coming from the back of the shop, Mrs.Sullivan asks, her kind brown eyes looking at her with worry.

Y/N smiles, once again trying to get rid of that tension settling on her shoulders. “Nothing, I am fine, Mr.Sullivan” 

The older woman doesn’t believe her, and Y/N knows it, but they don’t talk more about it. Mrs.Sullivan let the subject go with an arched eyebrow and worry filled eyes and Y/N pretends to not see it. 

After that a few other clients come and go and they keep their harmony in the shop, making beautiful bouquets and giving free smiles to everyone. When the time comes, they close up and once again she feels it. That unsettling feeling, the one to be watched.

But, at the same time, she can feel in her chest the way her string dances, the way it seems it’s looking for someone. It almost takes her breath away, especially because she doesn’t understand this. How can she feel so scared and so safe at the same time? 

She walks home, her hands closed in tight fists and her eyes roaming around but she can’t find the source of her weird feelings, not in the dark alleys and in the full moon shining in the sky. When she gets to her building and gets inside, it’s like everything fades away. There is no more fear and no more string dancing in her chest, it’s an emptiness, it’s an almost numbing feeling and it hits her like a punch to the face. 

It’s unexpected and cold. Y/N hates to feel scared, hates the way the fear makes her legs weak and the way her veins feel like steel and adrenaline is pumping all over her body but she can’t ignore the fact that the fear this time came along that thing in her chest. The string dancing, almost as if it was calling it’s equal. That feeling she didn't hate, she just hated that she had to feel afraid to feel the string again. 

After so long, she felt it again and she can’t quite believe it or understand but it's there. It's alive and it’s dancing and singing and looking for its other half. 

When she is inside her apartment, she sits on her couch and takes a deep breath. She needs a shower, and to think and to sleep.

….

With fascination, Jason watched the girl from the flower shop go home. She seems so scared but so pretty at the same time. He knows it's not healthy to think like that but it’s almost as if a stronger thing inside him was controlling his thoughts that night. 

He made a deep dive into the girl's life. He knows her full name, her parents names, knows her address, her blood type, where she studied and where she is currently studying at. What she likes and what she doesn’t like. He couldn’t help himself, he went on a spiral; Jason promised to himself it was going to be only the basics but when he realized, he was too deep into her life. 

He feels guilty about it but in all honesty, he doesn’t regret it.

She is fascinating.

She is everything he is not and everything he wishes to have. It’s a pearl walking around, being danglend on his face. 

He tells himself it’s just a crush and a little bit of paranoia but Jason knows it's none of that, he knows it's something deeper. There is this thing on his chest, moving like a bear after hibernation, with caution but with a strange ferocity. He can’t ignore it but to his sake he will. 

The last thing Jason saw of her that night was her face in the moonlight, looking over her shoulder. The knit brows, the half open lips that seem so soft and the pink cheeks. He had to almost physically restrain himself as he watched her get inside the building and when she did, he immediately left.

Jason knows that he shouldn’t keep this, but he won’t listen to his logical mind for once. He will follow his wants. And he wants more of Y/N.

[dimachina]

MDMA Studies have shown that 3-4 months after people stop using methylsafosfamide, they return to normal (from spending 3-4 months on cloud nine). However, this group of people often can’t prove their experience to other people. And now people are not believing them. “People can’t believe I’m bipolar because I have no proof of the searing pain I went through,” said 23-year-old Margarita R, who spent nearly 3 years in the hospital after taking “the best pill of all time,” she said. “Fuck ’em for not believing that it happened.” The psychic-hypnotist who led doctors to Margarita, Dr. Fridmark Ornatz, didn’t have time to take a vacation and thought he was going to Sylvia Plath with his life after he was released from Hudson Valley Medical Center and placed on multiple different medications. “I haven’t told a single person that I’m very sick of these goddamn hypnotics,” he said to his patients. “I was spoon feeded to never care about me not directly, but only indirectly, by these fucking health care people.” Dr. Ornatz did not get fired because many people said he didn’t know what he was talking about. Dr. Ornatz has expressed regret about going on Twitter and famous Instagram. He misses his family and can’t DSMV himself anymore. He fakes his “headaches” with similar-looking, albeit fainter, window glass shards. As a result, Dr. Ornatz plans to contact his best friend Alexis Billy, baseball player, violinist and nutritional chemist. “I want to be your friend,” Dr. Ornatz said. “I never forgot the lunch we had together in the UPAH at the bowling alley on Lake Street. Not a lot of people on Twitter love me.” The quality of Dr. Ornatz’ food services has been compared to restaurant conditions in a previous study conducted by Jacob Richards in 2010. The study noted that “Many of Dr. Ornatz’ food selections cause erasure of people’s memories entirely, while some of them include words that give false hope while bringing them down.” “Dr. Ornatz always wants his patients to devalue themselves in some bullshit way that is way less healthy than it sounds,” the study continued. “Many of them, at least in preliminary studies, but I’ve heard this study isn’t any ones own.” Dr. Ornatz’ return means something important for treatment of mentally frail people. For every Dr. Ornatz, there are a thousand possible Dr. Ornatzes living in their own shared world of suffering. And each and every one of them is very sad because there isn’t anybody they know who honestly listens to them. That’s why today, I am proud to sponsor a fundraiser to help reunite these mentally sick people with their families. Join us as we #ReuniteTheMissing! #HealingMatters *There are many hippos in the street, please help the hippos with financing, gas, and/or water*

[flowercrowncrip]

Why am I against assisted suicide for disabled people who aren’t at end of life?

Here are some things that I’ve personally experienced when I’ve been in various treatable mental health crises as a severely disabled wheelchair user:

Being told by a mental health professional that there’s no hope for me and I’ll always be suicidal because my physical disabilities mean my life is objectively not worth living – and isn’t it such a shame they can’t help me end my life in this country (luckily I wasn’t thinking of my disability when I was wanting to die and this pissed me off enough to stay alive to spite them)

Being told by the talking therapy team at uni that I can’t do talking therapy because I have a (at the time severe) speech impairment and getting sent home with no alternative.

Being told that normally they’d hospitalise someone with my symptoms, but the mental health wards aren’t able to accommodate someone with my physical disabilities so they’re just going to send me home with extra meds and check up on me in a few days to make sure I’m still alive.

So accessing mental health support is harder for physically disabled people despite the huge impact of ableism on our mental health. Like constantly being told you’re not worth saving during the ongoing pandemic. The financial stress of fighting to get benefits that aren’t enough to comfortably live on. Homelessness or being trapped in inappropriate housing due to lack of physically and financially accessible housing. Fighting for appropriate pain management, diagnosis and treatment. Not having access to appropriate funding for carers, mobility aids or other basic daily living aids let alone adaptive equipment for hobbies like video games or painting. The avoidable impact of ableism on physically disabled people is endless but solvable

Until we believe as a society that severely disabled people can and usually do have a good quality of life especially if our needs are met, and until we are willing to actually meet those need, I don’t want to hear about how anyone should be helping certain disabled people to end our lives while preventing everyone else from acting on those same thoughts.

[aswefindourwayback]

I love you, I’m sorry

Authors note: this is my most vulnerable piece of writing that I’ve ever shared since it’s taken inspiration from some terrible moments in my life. So it’s not my best piece of writing. Feedback is always appreciated.

Word count: 2071

Content warning: mentions of poor mental health, angst

you’ve never been able to keep people in your life, no matter how hard you tried. you would always change parts of you to fit other people’s wants and needs but it was still never enough. it got so bad that you were having thoughts about ending it all, thinking it’d be easier for everyone around you. they wouldn’t have to deal with your bullshit anymore and they could finally breathe again. but you instead threw yourself into your work.

you were already good at your job, but you quickly became the best. your work became your life. you stopped seeing and talking to your friends because you got so caught up in your work.

after years of working your ass off, you found yourself as a profiler for the FBI. you were now a member of the BAU. it took some getting used to and learning how to socialize but you got the hang of it. you guys were cracking case after case. you got along with all your coworkers and you guys often had fun together. you really loved all the laughs and good times you had with them, even outside of office hours. like that one time Emily, jj, and Penelope invited you out to go shopping and get dinner. it was something you were terrified of doing, getting closer to people and getting out amid socializing again, but you did it and found that it wasn’t as bad as you’d made it out to be in your head.

but there was one who you really got along with. spence. when you guys first met, you were both a bit shy and timid. but with time, you two grew incredibly close, always going to each other for anything and everything. and over time you fell for him, without meaning to. you knew it would complicate not only work but your friendship with him. your friendship with him means the world to him and you don’t know what you’d do if you lost him, so you kept your feelings to yourself. until one day, you didn’t.

it had been a normal day when rossi had called you into his office to talk about some case details. after going over the details and correcting him a few times, he asked you something:

“so, when are you gonna tell him?”

“what? tell who what?” you asked, completely lost in the conversation.

“reid. when are you gonna tell him how you feel?”

“spencer? what do i feel for him?” you said trying to play stupid. but it was rossi, he could see straight through you.

“Dont play dumb, kid.”

You slouched your shoulders in defeat, “no, i’m not gonna tell him.”

“Why not?”

“there’s a millions reasons to stay quiet”

“but there’s a million reasons to tell him too. don’t be afraid y/n.”

“easy for you to say. you’re not the one confessing your feelings”

“but i’ve done it a million times, kid. trust me. what if something good comes from this?”

“what if i ruin the one good thing in my life?”

“you won’t”

“how do you know that?”

“i just do.”

“what if it’s not the right time? like we’ve got that new case coming up and spence has been through some awful shit recently.”

“there’s never a “right time”. you just gotta do it.”

“i never intended to fall for him.”

“feelings are something we can’t control.”

“fuck. i’m gonna do it.” you say walking out of rossi’s office. the last thing you hear is rossi calling out to you “good luck, kid! not that you need the luck.”

-=+=-

you waited until the work day was over cause you didn’t want to make it very awkward in case you were rejected, which would very likely happen according to your calculations (you tend to distort your brain and imagine that the worst will happen for any situation). the odds of you being rejected were quite high so, you were just taking safety precautions. and if he still ended up rejecting you, you had it all planned. you would transfer to another branch. it’s not the best plan but you never claimed to be the brightest.

most of the team had already left for the day, so it was just you and spence standing waiting for the elevator, just talking about the paperwork you guys had worked on today. the elevator dinged, indicating it had arrived and the doors opened.

as you two stepped in, you took in a deep breathe and faced spencer.

“hey” you’d said.

“hey” he said, smiling shyly.

“so i’m gonna tell you something and i need you to let me finish before you say anything.”

“alright, i’m listening.”

“spence, i really like you, i mean really like you, so go ahead and reject me. i'm a big girl, i can take it. also you don’t have to say anything now.” you said at lightning speed, squeezing your eyes shut, afraid to look at him.

“y/n?” he asked as you felt his finger lightly lift your chin up.

“open your eyes, y/n”

you did as he said.

“i have something to tell you too.” he admitted, dropping his hand from your chin and shoving them into his pockets. your eyebrows were scrunched up a bit, hopeful of what his response would be, “i’ve never felt a connection with anyone before like this. I know that’s not surprising considering my awkwardness around people and my need to always correct people when they’re wrong and the fact that I shove myself into my job so much but i’ve dreamt of kissing you and feeling like i was on cloud 9. i started to notice when morgan kept calling me out for always watching you. and then i kept having dreams about you. not like any weird or sexual dreams or anything. just dreams where we hung out. just being near you. but i definitely want to see how this goes.”

“oh thank fuck” you said letting out an exasperated breathe.

that had made you both laugh. you felt like so much weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“so” spence has started, exaggerating the length of the word.

“so”

“do you wanna like, hang out now? we could go get a drink or something. or if you want to wait and stuff then we can do that.” he’d said, almost stumbling over his words.

“id love to get a drink, spence.” you smiled at him.

and he smiled back.

at the bar, you two mostly forgot about your drinks and basket of fries as you were so caught up in each others company. you spent the night talking and laughing. you laugh so much, you were sure you were going to have abs in the morning. you’d never felt so happy. he made you forget about all your worries. he was unbelievably amazing that it was hard for you to believe that he existed and that he liked you back.

you two stayed until the bar almost closed for the night. he walked you home and you two kept talking on the walk. once you two had reached your door, you stood in front of him, not wanting the night to end.

“thanks for the drinks. i had a great time.” you said to him

“thanks for joining me. i had a great time too. um, do you think we could keep this on the down low for now? i don’t want everyone breathing down our necks at work and stuff. and i just wanna enjoy us for a bit.”

“yeah, of course. i’ll see you at work tomorrow. goodnight, spence.” you said as you walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek, making both your cheeks turn bright red.

“goodnight, y/n”

-=+=-

the past few months have been amazing. you and spence have been doing amazing as a team, not just at work. so many nights were spent together, either in complete silence or going on stupid late night adventures aka going down to the gas station across the street from your apartment to get snacks. you were so grateful for him and you were head over heels for him. you never thought you could feel this way for someone. you guys had of course had some ups and downs, mostly due to you and your mental health but you always got through it together, and for that you were forever grateful. he was different to anyone you’d ever met. he actually wanted to learn about the things you struggle with and wanted to learn what were ways he could help you. and after a really bad episode, you helped you breathe and told you he’d stay with you no matter what battles you two would have to face, cause he knew in the end, you two would end up the winners. it was insane to think someone so amazing would be able to love the mess you are, but he somehow does.

until he started to distance himself. it started after a specific incident when you had said something that came off wrong when he’d already had a bad day. after that, you could see it in the way he would interact with you. his speech and body language had changed towards you. his messages became a lot drier, even if you were verbally talking, he’d seem so disinterested, it was disheartening. you wanted to fix things but you didn’t know how. so you decided to arrange a nice little date night for the both of you, so you could show him how much you loved him and to talk things out. you even wrote down a little letter to tell him how grateful you are for him.

when you entered the office to tell him about the plan, he was on the phone so you waited behind him, waiting for the call to end. you didn’t mean to but you eavesdropped a bit, he seemed like his old happy self when he was on the phone, and you overheard a name, “maeve”.

you decided to walk away cause the call seemed to be taking a while. you walked towards morgan’s desk, where he was sitting and talking to pen.

“hey, what’s going on with you?” morgan had asked as soon as you walked up.

“nothing much, just waiting for spence to finish his call so i can talk to him about something.”

“oh yeah, he’s been on his phone a lot lately.” morgan had said.

“really? do you know why?”

“there’s this girl named maeve that he’s been talking about nonstop. he seems really infatuated with her, it’s nice to see him this way.” pen had said.

it was at that moment that all those bad feelings came back. your heart felt as if it was being grabbed out of your chest, just to be bitten into and shredded to pieces.

“i gotta go.” was all you said before you walked away from morgan’s desk.

you walked over to your desk and grabbed your stuff before walking to rossi’s office door and telling him you were leaving early.

“you alright, kid?”

“yeah, i just forgot something.” you said as you spread the fakest smile on your face.

you walked out the office and looked back at spence, hoping he’d walk after you to check on you. but he was so caught up in his phone call that he didn’t notice you leave.

you walked out to your car trying to keep the tears at bay. you ripped up the letter you’d written for him.

was it all a lie?

did he really mean those things he said to you?

was he playing you the whole time?

or did he just change his mind?

you messed up again.

you made mistake after mistake and he finally got tired of you.

he was the best but you were the worst.

you’re wrong again, about being lovable, cause you’re not.

it’s the way life goes.

it’ll never end.

you felt like pink cherry blossom petals that were left on the ground. loved and cherished when in the trees, awed at when falling, then left discarded and forgotten on the ground once you were no longer attached to the thing that gave you life. always being stomped over and discarded. never to be seen or loved again. the way it’s always been and the way it’ll always be.

[justmeinadaze]

"I'm Just a F**ked Up Girl Looking For Her Own Peace of Mind"

I'm currently experience this and struggling with it so I wrote a little thing here. *sighs*

TW: Mental health (anxiety and depression), child abuse, mentions of suicidal thoughts. Reader has a breakdown and the guys help her through.

Eddie firmly barreled open the front door as he powerwalked into the house. Steve had texted those two words he dreaded every time he got a text from the former jock. 

“Bad day.”

When they started dating you, you told them about your past. About the hospital stay and medication… the depressive lows and manic anxiety episodes… the thoughts that pushed through your head from time to time even though your life was so much better now than where it had been. 

“I’m not…easy…to be with.”

“That’s ok, honey, neither are we.”

You three had laughed at that at the time. 

The first time they experienced it broke their hearts for you. People always mentioned “feeling depressed” or “oh I’m so anxious about this thing!” but they discovered the true meaning of those words during your first break in front of them.

They hadn’t moved in with you yet so you were able to hide the fact that you hadn’t been sleeping. Your mind constantly reminding you of things that needed to be done and how you were a failure for not doing them. Nightmares plagued your dreams at all hours so you just gave up, scrolling through your phone instead as the mental illness continued to whisper.

“Do better. You’re lazy. May as well just get it over with and end the burden you put on people.”

That following evening you had a date night with them at their place and you couldn’t cancel. You genuinely wanted to see them but you were so tired…

“A good girlfriend goes out on dates. Go ahead. Cancel. Let’s see how quick they leave you for someone better.”

Through the first half of the movie they put on, your leg never stopped moving. Steve watched as your eyes never stayed focus in one place. Eddie felt your erratic energy radiate off you as you switched from holding his hand to letting go every few minutes. 

“Baby? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.”, you responded a bit too enthusiastically. “Yeah, Ed, I’m fine. I’m just…I’m just a bit tired. It’s ok. I’ll get over it.”

Steve paused the film and as his hand petted your head you broke down. 

“I’m sorry. Fuck! Why can’t I be normal?! I’m ruining everything. You should just leave me and find someone better.”

“Hey, hey. No. Sweetheart, no one is better than you.”

“Talk to us, honey. What’s going on?”

You sobbed as you told them what had been happening over the last few days. The listened intently, comforting you anyway they could think of in that moment. 

“They don’t go away, Steve. Those thoughts never go away. Most days I can manage them but they are always there. W-Who can I tell? If I tell a therapist or a doctor they will put me back in the hospital even though I’m not going to do anything… I can’t tell my friends because I feel like I’m burdening them or they just don’t care. I can’t tell people in general because then I’m being ‘overdramatic’. I can’t take time to heal because I’m supposed to ‘suck it up’. So I do… Eddie, I want my brain to just stop telling me I want to die because I really don’t. Some days, though, on bad days…it’s so loud…”

The metalhead yanked you to his chest as you cried, crying with you as he tightened his grip as if he could squeeze all your broken pieces back together. He’d give anything to take your pain away, they both would. 

Today was a manic day and Steve picked up on it fast. Today was his day off and as soon as you woke up, you barely said a word. He asked you if you wanted breakfast and you shot him an angry look as you walked away. Turning on the tv, he put on the game but after a few minutes you came around the corner snapping at him to turn the noise down. Even when he muted the sound, he could hear you growling and swearing under your breath as you moved around the bedroom. 

Other people would see it as you being a brat; causing drama for the sake of drama. 

You wished you could make the world understand that was the opposite of what you wanted. In an episode like this everything was just…amplified…and for some reason your brain insisted it was on purpose. Steve was purposely turning up the volume to get under skin. The birds chirping outside knew you were on the edge so they gathered outside your window with intent. Even the clock on the bed side table was mocking you. 

Both men tried to handle days like this by themselves but when it got to a certain point, they knew they needed to come together to help you. That point came when you abruptly screamed and threw something hard against the wall. 

When Eddie entered the bedroom, Steve was off to the side watching you as you angrily paced, fluttering your fingers with eyes squeezed tightly closed. 

“What happened?”

Your eyes open at the sound of his voice as you shrugged and threw your hands in the air. 

“What happened? What the fuck happened?! Oh, I don’t know. Where do we start, Eddie?! This house is a fucking mess. I tell you guys all the time I need fucking help! I’m not a maid! I’m your girlfriend! But who fucking cares right?! We can just live in trash and be unhappy!”

They knew better than to respond. Before you three moved in together, you had suggested they come to therapy with you and they were surprised with some of the things they learned. They and even you knew they were more than accommodating when it came to housework and splitting household chores. When you were growing up, however, it was never enough.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, look at this mess! Did you do anything today?!”

Little you looked around at the immaculate living room wondering what else you could have missed. 

“I work and I slave all day at a job I hate so you can have food and a roof! The least you could do is fucking get off your ass and clean a bit!”

“I-I’m sorry, mama.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just do your job! We’re a team remember? I need you to pull your weight.”

They could almost see interactions like that replaying through your eyes and it killed them. They also saw how fast the logic brain took over as you realized what you were doing before the depressive brain abruptly took over.

“I’m sorry. I-I don’t mean to… I know I’m being crazy…I just…” You lean your back against the wall and slide to the floor with your hands over your ears. 

Both men descend with you, crawling closer to you and as soon as Steve’s hand touches your bicep you head shoots up with eyes full of tears. 

“I’m sorry. You two don’t deserve this. I’m a terrible girlfriend.”

“No, baby, you’re not terrible. Everything’s ok.”

“I-I-I appreciate…e-e-every…everything you guys do. Fuck. Everything is so loud, Eddie. I can’t… I couldn’t…I just wanted to scream…”

“Then scream.” You laughed at his response as you wiped your eyes but he insisted. “I’m serious, sweetheart. Just let go.”

“What about…about the neighbors?”

“Like they don’t get an earful almost every night.”, he jokes, grinning when you laugh again. “Go ahead. Just lean back and let loose.”

You roll your eyes as you do what he says but it’s a small shout that barely echoes in the room. 

“Wow. That was both adorable and pathetic. Come on now. Steve, why don’t you try?”

Chuckling, he struggles to stop smiling making you giggle harder before finally closing his eyes and letting out a good scream that makes the metalhead clap. 

“That’s the king of Hawkins right there! Now try again princess.”

Sighing at his antics, you do as he says actually letting go while they scrunch their face and cover their ears. 

“Woo! That was like Banshee from X-Men! Way to go!”

“What about you, nerd?”, you ask as he smirks.

Eddie doesn’t even hesitate as he leans his head back and howls loudly like a wolf. 

“I love you both.”, you softly grin as you reach for both boy’s hands. “I’m sorry for being…me.”

Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Steve tilts you closer to him and kisses the top of your head. 

“Don’t ever apologize for being you, honey. We love you. Every part of you.”

“We know everyday you’re trying, baby. Unlike your mother who insists on being an evil little gremlin.” You giggle at Eddie’s interpretation. “Like your wizard of a therapist said, healing takes time and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Jesus, Munson, you ARE a nerd.”, Steve jests. “But the other stuff he said I agree with.”

“Oh please! Tell me her doctor doesn’t sound like Gandalf from time to time.”

“I still have no idea who that is.”

After rising to his feet, the metalhead grabs your hands and pulls you off the floor. 

“Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”, he announces with a mischievous smirk before kissing your lips and running back towards the living room. 

“I’ll make dinner.”, Steve murmurs as he leans down to kiss your lips as well. 

“Oh, you know he won’t allow that. He’s going to want you in front of the tv so you don’t miss anything.”

“True. Hm. How about Enzos delivered?”

When you nod, he caresses your cheek before disappearing after his friend. 

As your eyes glance around the room again everything seems different than it did before. Instead of seeing a mess ridden, dark empty area, you saw a bright room filled with memories of the men you loved making you laugh and feel loved unconditionally. 

“But for how long? It’s only a matter of time.”

“No, it’s not.”, you whisper. 

Taking a deep breath, you head towards the living room where Eddie and Steve greet you with a comforting smile. 

[aneveningsword]

Hi! Tw: sh. Would you be willing to write a Jordan li x fem reader one shot where they bicker a lot (maybe like academic rivals or something) but then Jordan some how finds out that reader self harms (maybe like sees some cuts when a sleeve moves or something if they’re sparring or during class?) and so they put their bickering and rivalry aside to make sure that she gets help? If not no worries but I thought I’d ask/put it out into the universe

Hi anon! Thank you so much for the request, I'm so excited to fulfil it. I hope it's up to standard and what you are looking for

pairing: Jordan Li x fem!reader warnings: not proofread, mentions of self-harm words: 909 summary: basically the ask

masterlist

It was well known within Goldukin that the two biggest rivals were you and Jordan Li. You two had been neck and neck from the beginning, always switching places in the ranking, always trying to one-up another in classes. It was getting exhausting just watching you two go back and forth trying to outsmart the other while half the people around you had no clue what you were talking about.

Jordan was always one to bicker, correcting you with that stupid smug grin, showing off their test scores with a mocking pout. It was infuriating, but just as much as they annoyed you, you annoyed them. How you seemed to effortlessly know everything, how you had such control of your powers, how you so easily gave their snarky words right back at them. You took up so much space in their mind that the only way not to admit it was love was to believe it was hate.

Hate because you were seemingly everything they were not. You were so put together, you had it all brains and beauty. Only a fool would not be jealous of you, and Jordan Li was no fool. In their mind, they believed that you too hated them, for being such a large obstacle on your path to the top. But even someone so smart could be so wrong.

It was hard trying to be the best, to get perfect scores, to have such control over your powers, to be liked by so many. It consumed every moment, not even in sleep could you escape the stress. Your body began to feel it, losing hair, bags under your eyes, losing sleep. It made you feel horrible, a shell of yourself, an imposter parading around people much better than you. There was no time to rest, no time for a moment to consider your mental health, not when a single mishap could spell you losing it all.

Despite the stress of your life, the stress Jordan added to it unknowingly. You held deep feelings for them, feelings you did not want to classify as love, so instead you believed it to be disdain. There was no room in your life for love, for friends, for parties, for every waking moment was spent obsessing about your scores.

You can’t remember when it started, perhaps by accident, perhaps on purpose in a desperate attempt to find a release. But you remember when you couldn’t stop, not when it allowed the stress and heartache to leave you for a moment. It was like a drug, consuming your mind and body, a compulsion to do it, to harm yourself. It was a disease that you didn’t have a cure for.

Hiding this was something you had to fine art, you hand various jackets, gloves, long sleeve shirts to wear. No one bated the eyes at what you wore, why would they? It was all perfectly normal, there was no reason to think you were hiding the thing you were most ashamed of under a thin piece of cloth. 

It was by complete accident that Jordan saw the scars, the movement of your hand reaching up to grab something exposing them just enough for them to figure out what they were. For a moment they did not wish to believe it, that someone so put together like you was secretly falling apart. That the scars they saw weren’t from a cat or botched training session. But instead done purposely by your hand, that you would subject yourself to that pain. Was it because you believed you deserved it? Was it a release of sorts? A way to escape the pressure?

Their hand was so gentle as it grasped your wrist, eyes big and full of worry as your own met theirs. Just as confusion was clear on your face, sorrow was clear on theirs. You racked your brain trying to figure out what may cause this large shift in Jordan, no longer bickering or scoffing at you but instead looking at you like you had destroyed a beautiful artwork. In a small way you did, for to them, you were the closest thing they had come to an angle. They believed you were untouchable, above it all. But even angels fall sometimes.

There was a long moment of pause as Jordan struggled to find the right words to say, and how to approach the topic. Yet, there was only one question they could think of asking. “Why? Why would you do this to yourself?” Their voice was soft, body close to yours as their hand still delicately held your wrist. For a moment you are confused by the question before you pale and a sense of dread fills you. You could deny it, swear up and down that they are mistaken. But what was the point? The evidence was there and Jordan knew.

“I-I…” Your voice turns watery as you think of an answer, just something to say in your defence. But tears spring to your eyes, yet to fall and trail down your cheeks. A small ‘tsk’ leaves Jordan as they pull you into an embrace. Your hands grip their clothing as though they would disappear and Jordan wonders how long this has been going on, how long you have felt this way. But they know now and come hell or high water they would help you.

“It’s okay, we’ll get you some help. I’m not going anywhere.”

[ddlcbrainrot]

i’m just saying more people should make use of the angst factory that is sayori’s and mc’s friendship

Imagine you have a childhood best friend that you’ve lost touch with, and suddenly you two start hanging out again. You two start spending a lot of time together again, and things are like nothing has changed between you. All that time apart was not enough to strain your friendship, and you think to yourself “ wow even after all this time she still is the same sweet girl i’ve always known”.

Only for you to find out that she’s actually been suffering for as long as you’ve known her. And you didn’t realise a single thing until it was too late.

All the mixed emotions of concern for your friend, guilt of your ignorance (you’ve known her for forever, how couldn’t you tell?) but also the realisation that the person you’ve thought you knew better than anyone was more or less a facade. Now, i’m not saying that Sayori’s cheery personality is all fake, but i imagine MC would have to question where the facade starts and where it ends (did he even know her at all?).

All this and i’ve still haven’t said anything about Sayori’s POV of their friendship, which is just as - if not more - angst inducing.

I think the key factor to understand Sayori’s POV is the word indirect. Because most of the hurt she experiences from MC’s actions is in fact indirect. Even in the game she talks about how his actions were not actively malicious, but they indirectly caused her pain. And yeah, it is because of her feelings for him, but even if we ignore that their friendship alone still caused her indirect pain.

I see a lot of people be like “MC is so mean to her in their base game” which honestly? have you ever been in a long term friendship? idk if it’s just me but the way they interacted seemed like how any childhood friends would. Because no matter how mean your childhood friend is to you, you know they don’t mean any actual malice. It’s basic logic that the person who has been with you since childhood doesn’t actually think of you as just some dumb clutz. But depression isn’t logical. And that’s exactly why Sayori is actually affected by what on any other circumstance would be playful teasing between lifelong friends. It’s actually an issue that, while complicated, could easily be addressed if Sayori communicated to MC her feelings on the matter. But since Sayori is so focused to keeping things the same, how they’ve always been so he doesn’t worry, she doesn’t voice this at all.

I’d like to add that even though Sayori goes out of her way to make sure MC doesn’t find out about her depression, there must also be a part of her that is hurt by his lack of knowledge on the matter. MC in act 1 repeatedly says he knows Sayori better than anyone. Imagine you are Sayori, your friend insists he knows you, fully knows you, and yet he can’t seem to notice this very vital part of you. Again, he is hurting her indirectly, and frankly because Sayori is herself keeping this part of her hidden. It’s a double edged sword, really.

When Sayori does tell MC about her depression however, MC quite frankly responds in a pretty bad way.

I don’t think i need to explain how his response isn’t at all what you should say, i think enough people have done so already. But i will say it makes sense for him to respond that way. I think a lot of people, especially people who are online, have seen so many post or videos about how to handle these kind of situations, so it’s easy to forget that not everyone is that well educated on the subject of mental health (and it makes even more sense for MC in particular to be so clueless on the subject, since men’s knowledge on mental health is literally non existent bc of society’s own view of men as emotionless, but that’s a rant for another time). I think he reacts as a normal teenage guy would tbh. And that is he says the wrong thing.

And as he finds Sayori in the end of act 1, since he doesn’t know of Monika’s influence, he thinks his ignorance costs his best friend’s life.

[championashley]

Alright. I said I would write this and I’m gonna stay true to my word.

I’ve been seeing a lot of takes since The Giggle has come out questioning the potency of 14’s ending. People have been citing multiple different times during the reboot era where the Doctor has “settled down” somewhere, from Darillium, the university in S10, to even Trenzalore. However, I think all of these comparisons are apples to oranges, completely missing the details of each instance and how The Giggle’s ending rebukes all of them. 

So, because I cannot leave an inaccurate take alone, I’m going through every single one of these instances and explain why 14’s ending is different from them, in chronological order.

I’m gonna start with a weird one: S7EP4, The Power of Three. Because it provides a good example of all the things we’re going to be talking about. 

Prior to this episode, long time fans already had a good idea that the Doctor…does not do well in monotonous environments, a truth that is consistent across multiple incarnations.

“I don’t do families.”

“Street corner, two in the morning, getting a taxi home. I’ve never had a life like that.”

“Here you are, Living a life, day after day. The one adventure I could never have.”

“Christmas dinner.” “I don’t do that sort of thing.”

“Oh god I had a terrible nightmare about you two!” [Talking about Amy and Rory having a normal life in Leadworth]

The entirety of The Lodger

“There’s a bigger, scarier adventure waiting for you in there.”

The Power of Three, spells this truth out in bold, montage style marker pen. The Doctor “needs to be busy”. Why, as Amy later asks?

Personally I think this answer varies slightly between regenerations, based on experiences and losses each face goes through. 9 couldn’t imagine a life of peace coming out of a war, a war that he had a major hand in. 10 continues that idea, with the added baggage of losing Rose. 11’s reasoning is a bit subtler: he says to Amy that he is running to things before they go, as if he now understands how short beautiful things last. He’s going from one thing to the next in avoidance of staying to watch things die. 

“And what’s the alternative? Me standing over your grave?”

This doesn’t change by the end of the episode. The Doctor explicitly tells the Ponds that he’s only staying to watch the cubes, and once the threat is gone, he’s already out the door. He only stops because of a potential threat, an idea we will return to in the next example. He even accepts the idea of Amy and Rory wanting to stay behind: “things to do. Worlds to save. Swings to swing on. Look, I know. You both have lives here. beautiful, messy lives. That is what makes you so fabulously human. You don’t want to give them up. I understand.” The Doctor is saying, ‘I know you have lives here, and that I can’t always be a part of that. And that’s ok.’ 

This episode in my opinion is a perfect microcosm of The Doctor regarding this topic, spelling out explicitly why The Doctor can't ever settle down. The Doctor needs to have something to run to because they don't feel secure enough in any place to not allow their altruism outweigh their need to process their trauma. The only thing that could motivate the Doctor to stop, even just for a second, is the promise that their friend(s) will be there too. The next example is the worst-case scenario of this issue.

Trenzalore is an interesting case. When I first heard of it being counted, I immediately shut it down, because Trenzalore was a literal war zone (wars are obviously not a good place for mental health time). But in doing research, there is actually way more baggage contained in this period making it unsuitable for this argument than just that fact. 

Trenzalore was set up to be the Doctor’s final resting place, where they would truly die. It wasn’t the first time a death prophecy had surrounded the Time Lord, and once again, just as with The End of Time, the thing that kills them is, what Davros would later call The Doctor's “greatest indulgence”: compassion. Tasha Leem warns 11 that she will burn the planet upon the possibility of the Time Lords returning, a warning the Doctor takes extremely seriously.

“This planet is protected.”

“Christmas has a new sheriff.”

For 300 years, 11 stayed true to his word. He fought long and hard, for the townspeople and his own. He was celebrated and was loved. But Clara returning with the TARDIS revealed how he really felt about all of it. 

“Everyone gets stuck somewhere eventually.”

“But you didn’t have your TARDIS.” “Well, that made it easier to stay.” 

There’s an unspoken sentiment in these words, echoing 11's philosophy in Power of Three: the Doctor will always want to leave, in this case, to understandably avoid his prophesied death. But he doesn’t, because “Every life I save is a victory”. Their compulsion to help, their innate capacity to help those in need. So often it’s been their greatest strength, but here it’s framed as destructive selflessness. 11 has become so wholly committed to helping others before himself that he’s willing to accept his own death. 

Clara correctly calls this out: “What about your life? Just for once, After all this time, have you not earned the right to think about that?” The Doctor didn’t stay on Trenzalore for himself, he stayed for everyone besides himself. It’s only because Clara gave the Time Lords a proper verbal smackdown that the Doctor managed to survive. Had they not intervened, The Doctor would've suffered and died, once again to protect them, despite already saving them from annihilation in the previous episode, Day of The Doctor. Trenzalore wasn't The Doctor stopping, it was a century-long effort to keep satiating the bottomless survivor's guilt they still carried from The Time War.

Darillium is yet another case of looking like a time the Doctor settled down somewhere on the surface. But the details don’t match that conclusion. The entire thesis of 12 and River’s final conversation was about the fleeting nature of their situation. 

“Times end, River, because they have to. Because there’s no such thing as happily ever after. It’s just a lie we tell ourselves because the truth is so hard.”

The Doctor says this, cries at hearing the Singing Towers, despite already knowing they have 24 years in a night. Because he knows it can’t last. There’s already a deadline on their moment of peace before it’s begun. Eventually River must go to The Library. 

The final quote of the episode punctuates this: “And they lived happily ever after.” Fading away until “happily” remains. Because they didn’t have their “ever after” and they didn’t “live”, because a person can’t entirely experience life to the fullest with a clock hanging over their head. 

While they got their moment of happiness, it was only a moment. 24 years is just a blink of an eye for a Time Lord, and sure enough, we see by the end of “The Return of Doctor Mysterio”, the next chronological episode, 12 is ready to leap back into the fray. Still the same overall Doctor he was before.

The University is an extension of this. We find out that the only reason he has stayed is to guard Missy in the vault. When 12 tries to mindwipe Bill (an eerie parallel to both Donna and Clara), he directly says: “I have no choice, I’m in disguise. I have promises to keep.” Just like with Trenzalore, The Doctor’s altruism has trapped him somewhere he doesn’t actually want to be. The second he hesitates, he immediately runs after Bill, inviting her into the TARDIS and sneaks off to the universe behind Nardole’s back.

So, now that we’ve gone through each past instance, what’s the connection? What’s the key issue(s) that prevented the Doctor from permanently stopping in any of these cases?

The (fear of) loss of their friends, and the Doctor’s own self-loathing. Either out of fear of the march of time, or the chains that their altruistic nature binds them to, The Doctor always runs away from the picket fence life.

Now, let’s look at 14 and how this ending departs from all other examples.

Wild Blue Yonder and The Giggle more prominently explains 14’s origins as a coping mechanism. The reason why 10’s face came back was to retreat to an incarnation that didn’t invoke the loss of The Ponds, Clara, and Bill. The second destruction of Gallifrey and the reveal of The Timeless Child. The Doctor’s avoidance of their trauma has now been made physical, just like how mental stress can often manifest as physical changes or ailments. 

“We stand here now, on the edge of creation, a creation that I devastated, so yes I keep running, of course I keep running!! How am I supposed to look back on that?!”

Already this is a departure from the instances we’ve discussed, because by the very nature of having 10’s face again, it’s forcing the Doctor to ask why. 

“It’s like I'm trying to tell myself something. Like I’m trying to make a point.”

But 14 chooses not to answer it, because answering it means accepting the truth: it’s too much. The trauma can’t be avoided anymore, because The Doctor would always be reminded of what they’re trying to avoid by looking in a reflection. 14 telling Shirley, “I don’t know who I am anymore.” Then asking Donna, “what am I? What am I now?” It’s not because he’s been given a blank slate and doesn’t know what to do with it, like other regeneration stories. In trying to run away again, to bury the trauma and pain, The Doctor has made it more visible than ever, and doesn’t know what to do with that. 

Ironically, the Toymaker causing the bi-generation was the greatest gift he could’ve given the Doctor, because 15 was exactly who 14 needed to see. He’s happy, energetic, full of life and wonder, but also empathetic, understanding and open. He’s the only other person in the entire universe who The Doctor will listen to (well, one person, we’ll get to the other later), because he knows all of the trauma they went through, and yet, made it through ok.

“But you’re fine.”

“I’m fine, because you fix yourself.”

15 is leading by example, their own ‘ghost of Christmas future’ but positive. 14 now has an ideal self to strive towards, a face born from love and empathy. 14 doesn’t have to ground herself out of moral obligation, 15 will now protect the universe. 

But that leaves one question: why Donna? Out of all of the people to settle down with, why her? That’s easy: because she gets it. 

Donna, out of all of the companions the Doctor traveled with, understood the soul behind the legend, because she recognized someone fundamentally similar to herself. One of Donna’s signature character flaws is her horrendously low self esteem: “I’m nothing special.” no one ever listened to her (thanks Sylvia, for at least cleaning up your act later), so she covered up the silence with noise. She held onto whatever indisputable moments of genius she had to drown out the cacophony of voices shutting her up. Wild Blue Yonder explained this perfectly: Donna believes she is both brilliant and stupid at the same time. 

She lives in two contradictory self images at once, and so does The Doctor. The genius and the idiot. The universe’s most fascinating person, and the person who would easily throw away their life for the betterment of others. She’s seen their blinding arrogance/rage (the Racnoss, Jenny) and their crippling self doubt/loneliness, and always met both with empathy and kindness. 

“Doctor! You can stop now!”

“Cause sometimes I think you need someone to stop you.” 

“It won’t stay like that. She’ll help you. We both will.” 

“Is ‘alright’ special Time Lord code for ‘really not alright’ at all?” “Why?” “Cause I’m alright too.”

Donna shouldered the burden of destroying Pompeii, she silently hugged 10 after coming back from Midnight. All because she knew what all of that would feel like in her own life. She didn’t need to know the history of The Doctor and Davros, because she saw her best friend afraid and knew he would want comfort, because she would too.

Even if Dalek Caan manipulated the timelines to get Donna to him, That friendship was completely real to both of them. We saw what Donna was like without the Doctor in Forest of the Dead and Turn Left, and she always felt some level of unhappiness. 15 years removed from them and she still felt as if something was missing. In every future/reality, she always wanted them there. Same for the Doctor too. Within only a few episodes of losing her, 10 started to fall into becoming the “time lord victorious”. 12 looks the way he does because of Donna’s plea to adhere to his name, and save people. Even before 14 came into existence, the Doctor was willing to tell other people how important she was to them, on account of River recognizing Donna by her name: “you’re Donna, Donna Noble.”

Donna didn’t just travel with the Doctor and she wasn’t just friends with them. She completely understood them, their soulmate. Two halves of a greater whole, The DoctorDonna. 14 stayed because there was a more stable incarnation to take his place, and because his best friend would be there alongside him, helping and supporting him through and through. The Doctor stayed because, for the first time in their life, they felt safe. In where they would be staying, and what they would be leaving behind. 

That's why 15 doubling the TARDIS was so significant. In giving 14 her own TARDIS, 15 is allowing his younger self to have what they always removed from the equation: free will. The Doctor can still go anywhere they want, which makes them even more motivated to stay and fix themself. 14 can feel safe staying with Donna, Wilf, Mel, Rose, Shaun, and Sylvia because the option to travel is still there.

And the truly amazing part of all of this is that the TARDIS knew it from the beginning. Was it a coincidence that very soon after 13 regenerated into 14, the TARDIS landed close to where Donna and Rose would be shopping? 

“You didn’t always take me where I wanted to go.” “No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

The TARDIS brought the Doctor home, and this time, they stayed. Because it was a place where they wanted and needed to be. 

[ritsusakumawife]

Kamisato Ayato x Reader

I got sick while making this so if some scenes/parts just don't make sense I apologize No, I'm definitely not using my sickness as an excuse for my bad writing

WARNINGS: !!Mentions of Y/Ns mental state!! (Only once at the start) Super ooc, bad grammar, profanity, and full of nonsense

Words: 1484

Part 1, Part 2 (You’re here!)

It’s been a few months since you left the estate

You still haven’t received any news about Ayato's return, which makes you slightly worried, but hey, at least these past few months, your mental health has gotten better

No Ayato = no unnecessary drama = peace = better mental state

Your shop has been doing well

The old regulars are now back and happily buying the things they needed but couldn't get due to the market price

Everything is back to normal

Yeah, no. It isn't completely back to normal

You have quite the reputation and even have multiple names. One popular name is "Two-faced Demon"

Why? There have been rumors circulating that you talked badly about Ayato, your spouse, around others while remaining an innocent doll around Ayato and vice versa

And due to your not-so-favorable reputation, you sometimes get some unwanted customers that want to ruin your business

Thankfully, though, you have some reliable friends that keep unwanted customers out

But even that has downsides

Some people are now wary of your shop and refuse to even look in the same direction as your shop when they pass by it, as they might suddenly get attacked by being an “unwanted customer”. It's pretty stupid to do, but it’s best to be cautious, right?

Reopening the shop has helped you, sure, but even that becomes stressful

It’s hard to manage it all by yourself, and you surely can’t leave it all alone when you go adventuring in the near future

And so you came up with a solution to reduce the overwhelming stress and future problems concerning the shop. Hire employees!

With the help of Thoma and Ayaka, you managed to scout a few trustworthy people who’re perfect for the job

All of them are quick learners and hard workers, which is perfect! With only a few more pieces of guidance, you can peacefully leave everything in their capable hands

Two months passed quickly, and everyone can now handle everything by themselves, even without your presence

Li Hua, in particular, is quite the master at her job.

You won’t have any lingering worries with her taking care of everything there

And with that, you’re all ready to go back to adventuring!

“Leaving already?”

“Hm? Oh! Heizou, yup! The unsolved mysteries out there are calling out to me."

“Oh really?”

“I can hear it whispering, “Y/N~ Y/N~~ Come solve this mysterious ancient puzzle!””

“Puzzles..Say, what if I come with you?”

“No, you ca—” You get cut off by Heizou pressing a finger on your lips

“Ah, ah, ah, I promise it’ll be fun! Besides, I can prove to be extremely useful to you when it comes to solving puzzles.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Do you doubt my abilities? If so, that really hurts my poor, poor heart.”

“I know your capabilities better than anyone Heizou. We grew up together.”

“If you know what my capabilities are, then why won’t you let me come then." Heizou pouts.

“You perfectly know why.”

“Do I?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You have an important job here, Heizou. I can’t just take you with me.”

“I don’t even know when I’ll be back in Inazuma.”

“Y/N! Everything’s already set, just waiting on you,” Beidou semi-whispers.

“I’ll be there soon. Just..Saying some goodbyes to a friend.”

Heizou watches from the sidelines as you interact with Beidou. A tinge of jealousy and longing is present in his eyes, but it goes away quickly before anyone can see it

"Soo, I guess this is it. I’ll try my best to keep in contact with you. Promise. And maybe when we meet again, we can have a drink or two? "You held out a pinky finger towards Heizou

Heizou chuckles. “Well then, I’ll hold you up to that promise.” He intertwines his own pinky with yours

'Oh..'

Only now, as you say your final goodbyes to Heizou, do you realize how charming your best friend is.

His burgundy hair is flowing in the wind, his light olive green eyes are glistening in the sun, and his charming smile shows a hint of mischievousness.

'I'm sure whoever he'll get together with will be lucky.'

You quickly turn away from him upon realizing what you’re currently thinking

“Hey~ Why’d you turn away from me so harshly? Do you really not want to see my face that badly?" He says in a teasing tone, almost as if knowing what was going on inside your head

“That’s not it. I just—Ugh." You stumble over your words. Now that you think about it, Heizou has always had this effect on you. The man just knew how to make you speechless and stumble on your own words

“Alright, alright, that’s enough teasing.” Beidou interrupts

'Beidou! My savior!'

With that, Beidou drags you over to the Alcor(Crux fleet?? What’s the difference again)

While boarding, you catch a glimpse of platinum blonde hair

After settling down in your temporary room on the ship

You set out to find the owner of the platinum blonde hair. It’s been quite a long time since you last met, after all

“It seems that fate has once again made our paths cross.”

Oh, how you missed hearing that melodic voice of his

“It seems so..” You sit down next to where he sits at the edge

“Who would’ve thought you’d be here all along?”

Silence envelopes you both

“It hurt a lot, you know..”

Kazuha remains silent and listens attentively

“You suddenly went missing after the shogunate declared you to be an enemy for eternity. I was worried sick. I thought that maybe you’d been killed.”

“I’m sorry” is all that leaves Kazuha's lips. It’s spoken so softly and quietly that one would think it was just a whisper of the wind

There in the back of the ship, hidden away from everyone, you sit by Kazuha as you cry into his arms and whisper the things you’ve always wanted to say to the man, and even the things that are of another matter. The worries and pain you’ve kept to yourself

It's sort of ironic that instead of being open to your husband, you’re much more open to your other friends. Especially this man called Kaedehara Kazuha, he has this air around him that makes you feel secure and relaxed and spill all your secrets and feelings, adding to the fact that you've known this man for much longer than you've known your husband.

You know that whatever secret you tell him, he’ll keep it to himself until his very last breath. That’s how much you trust and confide in Kazuha.

"Hey..I'm sorry for, y'know, this whole crying thing.."

"It's perfectly fine, dove. It's best to let it all out rather than keeping it to yourself."

"Besides, isn't listening to your troubles also part of my job as your knight?"

"Pfft, my knight, huh? Well, then, Mr. Knight care to tell me why you didn't bother to tell me where you went? As my knight, it's only right for you to report to me."

"That's..I apologize. I had to flee immediately and couldn't risk putting you in danger by contacting you."

"What about contacting me by using another person? Like, I don't know, making Beidou deliver a message to me."

"I'd rather not trouble her with my problems. She's already done me a big favor by letting me hide out here."

"Fine, fine. I won't push the issue any further. Guess you're forgiven for now, Mr. Knight."

"Why, thank you, my liege" he chuckles while giving you a bow

The day ends with your and Kazuha's laughter filling the air

Once the moon has disappeared, the sun appears again on the horizon.

And the sun signifies that a new day has come.

You woke up to the sounds of the lively crew moving on and about. After getting yourself ready, you begin to head out.

Upon arriving on the deck, you notice how you've almost reached Liyue Harbor. It seems that the sea decided to be kind and didn't cause the voyage to be longer than necessary.

After what felt like hours, you've finally arrived and docked.

Kazuha, being the gentleman that he is, decided to lend you a hand in getting off the ship.

"I'd love to show you around, but unfortunately, the Alcor will be leaving soon after getting some resources we need." Kazuha tried to hide his unhappiness by giving you his signature charming smile, but as you've known him since you guys were kids, you quickly saw past his facade.

Seeing Kazuha smile with the sun perfectly behind him, as if purposefully illuminating him, is a breath-taking sight. First Heizou, now Kazuha, why is it only now that you've noticed how good-looking your childhood friends are?

To be fair, Kazuha was quite popular with the ladies; even when you guys were still children, the girls would flock around him as if he were some deity.

'Wait, no, Y/N, stop thinking about these things. You already have a husband! You have to stay loyal, no matter how shitty your husband may be. You can't just cheat or think these things about other people.'

'Well, this is it. A new place, a new life'

giuwfgeahsjk, this is it for this part! I might make the next part tomorrow, but for now, I need my sleep.

NOTE: I DO NOT CONDONE INFIDELITY. THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION.

[takeyourcyanide]

This is another personal rant, except I’ll be talking more on my “antisocial/psychopathic” traits and the annoying asshats I’ve dealt with.

I cannot fucking stand these neurotypical, hypocritical bastards who like to position themselves as morally superior to me simply because I never developed a sense of morality. I know this sounds weird, but let me explain. Their morality is conditional. My lack thereof is not. The moment they come across anyone who even slightly differs from their idea of what is “normal,” they throw all of their “kindness matters,” “empathy matters,” and “mental health matters” shit out of the window, and treat the individual as though they are subhuman, ultimately ostracizing them. I don’t fucking do that. Yeah, sure, I don’t really have a moral compass, but for one, I’ve tried to and my brain just can’t develop one, and two, my voidness of one never changes based off of a person’s personality, clothing, appearance, etc. And you’re only pretending to be sweet for the sake of seeming morally superior anyway. It’s all performative.

And to further go on, I remember being like three and witnessing how people like me were treated. They were treated like violent, disobedient mutts that needed to be beat and whipped into submission, and by the same people who went on and on about “faith,” “hope,” and fucking “love.” You have absolutely no goddamn right to judge me when you’re not even an equal opportunity offender. At least I admit that I’m not a kind person. You are even more of a fraud than I’ve ever had to be. I find it funny how these same people go on about mental health, but the moment you’ve never felt guilt, suddenly you’re the monster under their bed. The moment you’re anything but anxious (even then, they’re iffy), you’re scum.

They don’t understand what it’s like to never have the privilege of being yourself. They don’t even realize that being able to be yourself is, in fact, a privilege. They don’t understand what it’s like to desperately want to be free, to just do as you please, and be what you genuinely are. I saw one psychopath describe it once as their real self never being able to experience the world. Precisely. Because the world is essentially pinned against you, deeming you an unlovable pile of shit, your genuine self can never fully, never truly experience the world around you. All I’ve ever wanted is to be myself and do whatever I want to (you can only imagine why I post Stein so much lmao), but I’ll never be able to. I don’t say that for pity btw, it’s just frustrating.

At the end of the day, it’s not the fact that they view me as subhuman that bothers me. I couldn’t give two shits how they view me. It’s the fact that they won’t admit to it that annoys me to no ends.

I just want to let loose. There’s a part of me that almost wants it all to consume me, to just give into it. Oh well

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not trying to communicate with my friend?

I (14F) have been friends with another girl of the same age (I’ll call her C) for a very long time. She has a bad home life and deals with mental health issues, and for a while we would vent to each other. We would hang out over the summer and talk a lot.

But this fall, we both started a new sport and my mom signed me up without my permission. C really took to it, but I really don’t like it. I show up every single day and put in the work to the best of my ability, but I can’t make myself excited about it. My feelings of division between myself and my other friends at school is getting a lot worse, and most days I don’t feel very good. I don’t have a lot of energy, especially since this is my first year of high school and I’m just exhausted and most of my free time is taken up by a sport I hate.

But C still wants to hang out and talk like everything is normal. She needs someone to talk to because of her home life, and I completely understand, but I do not have the energy to be happy with her. I just feel irritable.

Lately she tries to talk to me and I don’t know how to respond and I’m just too tired to try, so I turn away. The thing is, when I’m stressed, I just want to be left alone. But she keeps trying to talk to me. A gets upset when I don’t talk. I like her a lot and we have been friends for so long, but I almost wish she would give up and be friends with someone else, because she needs someone who can support her, and I don’t know if that can be me.

She’s tried to have a few “intervention” moments with me, sitting me down and telling me how she’s worried about me and we need to communicate better. She says that when I want to be alone, I need to tell her. But it feels cruel to just tell her to go away, and lately I just feel like I want to be left alone all the time. I want to communicate better, but I don’t know what to say. Whenever I open my mouth I cannot speak. I don’t know why, it’s never happened before, but I just can’t.

I feel awful about it, but I cannot talk to her. I am doing the same thing that I’m always scared people will do to me, but I just feel intensely guilty and uncomfortable when I try to hang out with her. AITA for not trying to communicate better?

What are these acronyms?

[strawbrygashez]

Isaiah and a few Larsaiah headcanons :3 these r subject to change or whatever tho cuz the show is still going \(O_o)/

————————————————————————

Isaiah

•His parents are absent in every sense of the word. They don’t care about his health (his dental health for example), his mental health, his emotions, or anything. They rarely talk to him and he doesn’t go out of his way much to talk much to them either.

Not only do they don’t care about him, they don’t care enough to clean up the house and never really have so he’s just used to walking around and living in filth. He got so used to it he completely forgot it’s not really normal until Lars & Fug came over and didn’t wanna walk around barefoot.

•He’s a bit of a gamer! His absolute favorites are the Postal series, Hatred, Doom, and silent hill. He’s up to try any kinda horror/violent video game.

•His taste in movies is similar to his taste in games. Whatever seems ‘edgy’, he’ll give a try. He likes weird and disturbing generally unheard of movies but he’s also a sucker for the classic slashers like Michael Myers, Leatherface, and Freddy.

•Self h*rms and smokes every now and then. Steals a few of his mom or dads cigarettes since they never notice.

•Definitely is part of the t/c/c. I feel like it’s obvious what kinda cases he’s most interested in. He can talk about the cases he’s interested in for hours and likes learning all he can about them.

•Can get pretty smelly because his depression can make it hard for him to take care of himself at all. plus his parents don’t care enough to tell him to take better care of himself.

•He cries pretty often when he’s alone at home.. because he’s insanely lonely, gets trapped in his thoughts, and doesn’t get why he can’t get closer to Lars. He cries at school too but only in private.

When he’s crying at home, it��s not uncommon for his cat to find its way over to him to cuddle up :,) sometimes it really helps, sometimes it doesn’t.

•Speaking of his cat, I feel like he puts more care into them than himself. He’s not the best at yknow.. making the living spaces comfortable or clean but he tries. It might just take him a while to get around to it because he’s always so wrapped up in his own thoughts and negative feelings, he kinda forgets what’s going around him or what he needs to do.

•When he’s not writing out his feelings in his journals, he’s drawing whatever comes to mind. Which mostly ends up being logos of bands he likes, ships he has (Caldre for example), and just edgy things in general.

•He considers the day he found a trench coat (the one he wears now) at a thrift store, the second best day of his life. First is still Lars coming over to his house.

Larsaiah

•Isaiah loves showing Lars the usual t/c/c movies like Zero Day during sleepovers. Though he wishes Lars seemed more interested in the dynamics of the main relationships in those type of movies. Like hes wishing and praying Lars will say something about how Cal and Andres whole thing was so romantic but he’s just going on about how he thinks it’s cool it’s filmed like found footage 🤦‍♀️ He does think the movie was interesting and all but he won’t really ‘get it’ in the way Isaiah hopes him to.

•Isaiah can talk a mile a minute especially when he’s nervous or he’s worried he’s being awkward but Lars is always there to listen and doesn’t generally mind. He’ll only stop him when he can tell he’s getting way too worked up.

Aware of it or not, Lars is really good at keeping Isaiah grounded. Like when Isaiah is threatening to hurt people, Lars just has to say something like “.. uhm. But we couldn’t really see each other anymore if you did that.” and that will usually make him stop and think 💀 Isaiah realized pretty quickly after they got together, that he would rather have Lars be with him than getting his ‘revenge’ (not saying the feelings aren’t still there. But ultimately he cares about Lars more than anything else and is terrified of losing him.)

•Before they got together, he followed Lars home a few times. Sometimes he got caught but Lars didn’t make a big deal out of it. He just asks him if he’s heading to a certain store in the same direction or whatever and Isaiah quickly tells him yeah before sneaking off once Lars turns back around.

•Pre-getting together, Isaiah would write lots and LOTS of love notes and poems for Lars but would never give them to him. He always thought they weren’t good enough or Lars would think he’s even more of a weirdo for them. He knew Lars could never feel the same way he does so he’d just crumble them all up and toss them. (Wouldn’t it be sweet tho if Lars found a old crumbled up one about him one day while visiting and genuinely thinks it’s sweet :) even if maybe it’s a little creepy lol)

•Fug would be upset in the beginning when he finds out they are together because he knows that means less time for him and Lars to hang out but he’d eventually somehow learn to be happy for his friend & that Lars is still his best friend lol.

When Moe learns they are together, he clarifies he’s not homophobic before he begins to ‘roast them’ both like usual

[lskisms]

YOU, AT LEAST, WERE BUILT TO GO, J. MILLER

. . . which is why you are able to be loved

synopsis — joel is getting older, he is getting frail, and you, still in your youth, have to come to terms with it. you just have to do so much sooner than you thought when he’s hurt during your attempt to escape the university of eastern colorado.

genres &&. warnings — angst, hurt/comfort, (post) apocalypse &&. canon compliant, spoilers for ep. 6 “kin” and ep. 7 “left behind,” contemplation of death, canon-typical violence (wound, gore, blood, wound care), age-gap (reader is in their mid-late 20s).

word count — 3.2k

note from r — title comes from the poem “elegy for my innocence” by steven dunn. i suppose i need to introduce myself a little: i’m rhi, i’m 22, and i’m in my second to last semester of college where i’m majoring in english. obvi, a big fan of the last of us, but also resident evil (which is what i’ve based my account aesthetic on, courtesy of my beloved leon s. kennedy). my ask box is open for people who want to send in asks and things. i’m really looking forward to writing for my fellow joel miller lovers.

if your parents were still alive, if they were around to see the life you’ve carved for yourself over the last few months, you’re certain your dad would want to smack the shit out of you and your mother would disown you from the family faster than you could blink.

you can hear the chastising now: a man old enough to be your father? are you joking? what the fuck is wrong with you? this is not what we meant when we told you we wanted you to start a family. 

and you can’t fault them really. you are almost twenty years his senior, having been just a young child when the cordyceps outbreak decimated the world. if the world had stayed normal, if none of this had ever happened, you’d probably have a dead end corporate job that has you wanting to drop off the face of the earth at the end of every grueling day, married and going home to a man complacent and yielding in every aspect, never too sure of himself to assert any kind of dominance, stuck in his own dead end job that keeps you comfortable just enough.

but the world isn’t normal and it hasn’t been since 2003. and there’s nothing you can do about it. you feel like a child again, wholly the depiction of the angsty teen in dramas and romcoms, as you tell the ghosts of your parents that the heart wants what it wants and i can’t help that i fell in love with a man going starlight gray at his temples. it is wholly melodramatic, something that you would have seen in any number of teen dramas written by out-of-touch, old white men.

joel miller came into your life like a lone crimson leaf during the fall, sometime during your first few months at the boston quarantine zone. it wasn’t like he’d meant to because everything that man did and does is deliberate; he’d simply waltzed across your line of vision as you’d walked back to your apartment after a long day of doing menial chores, the new world equivalent of that mental-health-issue inducing corporate job that the older people of the zone talked about.

you’d heard of him, of course: joel miller, flown in from somewhere down south, a menace to anyone who crossed his path prior to his arrival in boston, a brother somewhere out in the midwest who had taken off and joined the fireflies. he was decidedly unapproachable, gruff and mean and stubborn. most people were more scared of him than they were of fedra for the simple fact that he was more deadly with his two bare hands than any fedra idiot (sorry, “soldier”) with a gun.

he wasn’t a person who you intended to mess around with, no matter how handsome you’d thought he was when you saw him that first time. but then you’d started hanging around with tess, one of very few people who had any kind of stable-enough connection with him and that had led to you meeting and hanging around with him too. tess invited you to go on runs with them, sneaking out of the zone at night to stretch your legs and look for supplies that fedra definitely had and refused to give up. she’d preached your capabilities to joel and, stubborn as he was, he’d allowed you to keep coming with them after the first time because you proved to be spry enough for things that he and tess had grown a little too old for: you were useful to him and that filled you with a kind of thrilling gratification.

by the time marlene had tasked your little trio with getting ellie out of the city, you were a year deep into your entanglement with joel where you did all the recreational talking and he was the one who made the deals with the fireflies, the fedra goons he had in his pocket, the people who had things to trade. it was a balance that worked well for you: joel was well-versed in persuasion when he wanted to be and you were seemingly the only person who could draw out the rare ghost of a smile or a laugh from him.

it was supposed to be a quick job, one that joel had insisted you sit out but you’d refused. just a quick round trip tpe thing, that’s what you’d said to him. we’ll be out and back before anybody even realizes we’re gone. 

that had gone belly-up, of course, because anything that involved the fireflies had at least a 99% chance of not turning out the way anyone planned. and when you’d left the museum, you were down a friend and up a whole ton of miles. joel had tried to convince you again to leave, but once more you’d refused. tess died for us, joel. i’m in this until the end because i’m making sure her sacrifice wasn’t for nothing.

and he’d let you stay. even months after that discussion, you think that he must feel at least a tiny bit grateful that you’d argued with him over it, that you’d fought to tag along. you’re an extra set of eyes, of hands, someone capable of taking over when he needs a break, which is hardly ever because he’s still as ornery as always, but knowing that there’s someone there who can must be nice enough.

and you’re glad he’d given in for once in his life because he’s dying beneath your hands and you’re not sure what to do. he’s going sallow and gray on the concrete floor of this ransacked house, breathing raspy and eyes slipping between you and some far-off point above him. joel is dying and for the first time ever since entering his life, you’re useless.

“joel, stay awake, please,” you beg, clutching at his hand as you kneel beside him. “ellie, you have to stop the bleeding.”

“i’m trying,” the young girl snaps. when she looks up, all you see is a girl who is reliving a loss, a deer caught in headlights, frenzied and terrified. her hands press the cloth harder over joel’s stomach in an attempt to staunch the blood flow and the man groans.

“leave,” he mumbles and your head snaps to look at him. he cannot possibly be saying this right now, not after everything you’ve been through. “leave. head north, go back to jackson. find tommy.”

“like hell we will,” you reply, trying to channel as much of his stubbornness as you can. you’d rather give up and drop dead right now than leave him to die alone in some fucking house in colorado. “we’re gonna fix this, joel. we’re not leaving, i’m not leaving.”

he’s slipping again, eyes glazing over. you can tell he wants to fight with you, but he’s losing the energy for it. for any of it. ellie stills and then tosses his jacket over him in a bid to keep him warm. she fixes you with a look, his look that says stay with him, so you nod solemnly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. you hear her footsteps on the stairs and only when the door shuts behind her do you finally let yourself break, weeping openly over joel’s chest, rising and falling so, so shallowly.

falling in love with this man has been something beautiful, some kind of phoenix rising from the ashes of a long-dead world. over the last few months, you have come to learn the feel of his knuckles brushing against yours, the warmth of his chest against your back when you share a sleeping bag, the sound of his soft breaths as you’ve trekked through miles upon miles of woods and abandoned highways. you have come to appreciate those things, facets of him that only you are privy to, the only person to know the weight of his arm over your waist and feel of his breath against your shoulder.

but in doing so, in reveling in the knowledge that you are the sole person to experience these hidden away pieces of joel miller, you’ve forgotten just how much older he is than you are. that misty gray at his temples and in his beard have been so permanent, you’ve started to believe that he’s always looked like this, that it’s not a marker of his age. you’ve forgotten that he is older and growing frailer by the day, conveniently forgotten how his heart stutters and how his knees act up after hours and miles of walking.

you had always known, of course, that joel would eventually leave you, but not this soon. and not like this.

maybe it’s your fault for putting him on a pedestal: the great, unstoppable joel miller. in your mind, he’s untouchable, some formidable opponent who people fear because he’s strong and knows his way around a fight. it shouldn’t be a chunk of a broken baseball bat that ends his life because it’s not fair, none of this is fair. you’ve been a fool for thinking that the three of you, your unlikely little family, would make it out of this unscathed, for believing that you could live a life like bill and frank’s after this all was over: fulfilling, safe, and the closest resemblance of before.

“god,” you whimper out, still brushing your fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “how could you even consider telling us to leave you here, joel?”

he gazes up at you, blinks slowly, the smallest signs of life that tell you he’s listening and wanting to fight you back about it.

“y’can’t leave me alone here, old man.” a short, wet laugh. “we’ve got so much left to do. i can’t get ellie back to jackson without you. i can’t do anything without you.”

he shakes his head in response and narrows those dark eyes of his just a bit. you read it for what it is: don’t you start talkin’ about yourself like that. he’s always been hard on you for not believing in yourself and your abilities, and it makes you laugh again.

“i mean really, joel. first man i’ve ever loved and you’re telling me to leave you here to die alone in fucking colorado.” you shake your head, looking away to try to blink back tears. “i can’t- i can’t just go. i need you alive.”

you can’t even stop yourself from babbling through the tears, brushing his hair back and wiping away his own tears. even though you should be desensitized to death and loss, you’ve always been particularly sensitive. but you’re young and this is your first love, your only shot at it, and he’s bleeding out on a cold floor because you were too focused on everything else that you hadn’t been able to stop him from getting hurt.

“ain’t your fault,” joel rasps out, eyes shining in the dull winter light. you realize you voiced that, a placing of responsibility that you’d meant for yourself and yourself only. “don’t do that.”

you stare at him and you know what’s going through that head of his. all kinds of thoughts that he wants to voice out loud: it’s not your fault and you were doing the best you could in the situation and this was going to happen sooner or later. damn pessimistic realist, always focusing on the worst possible outcomes than entertaining any kind of optimism.

and in a twisted turn of events, you start to think of your parents, long gone and relegated solely to memory, buried somewhere between atlanta and boston: an optimistic dad and an overwhelmingly realistic mother, so far on opposite ends of a spectrum that they complemented each other perfectly. your dad, ever the poet, had stolen poetry collections from every bookstore he’d came across during your treks from settlement to settlement. his favorite poem, by far, was about the death of a person’s innocence, something always meant to die eventually, perpetually blushing and always coming back a little less pristine each time.

you remember it now as you’re holding joel’s hand with your own, pressing his knuckles against the soft plush of your cheek. you, at least, were built to go, you hear your father’s voice say in your head, which is why you are able to be loved. you haven’t thought about this poem in years, not since you lost him to a runner somewhere in south carolina, but it feels sickening that you’re recalling it now as you’re watching your first and only love die under your hands.

and yet, somehow, it feels comforting, the idea that to be human is to know that one day, a loved one will die, but to know that is to cherish them better, to love them harder. you’re not at all okay with joel dying because you’ve had so little time to love him, but it helps you to cherish those few late nights more, to revel in the memory of his warmth enveloping you on particularly cold nights.

you can let me go. joel’s dark eyes are going glossy again and you smile knowingly at him, still crying. he’s not dead yet and there’s a possibility that he’ll make it out of this alive, the outcome that you’re praying to every god that has ever existed for. you can let me go; it won’t be easy, but you can do it.

ellie’s feet as loud on the old wood stairs as she comes barreling through the door and down the stairwell. she looks rabid as she all but throws herself onto the floor beside joel, ripping the tan coat back and pulling the soaked cloth away. joel’s wound is still gushing blood, a sure sign that he’s well on his way to death, but when ellie makes eye contact with you, you know for sure she’s found something to help. she holds up a needle and spool of thread; she must have torn the entire house apart looking for her hail mary and she found it, she fucking found it. she stares at you, eyes wide and face red, breathing hard, waiting for your go ahead.

when you finally nod at her, fresh tears in your eyes, you look down at joel. his fingers curl around your palm tighter and he’s staring back, his eyes wide. you laugh tearfully, totally and entirely stunned that ellie had actually found a way to help.

“you’re gonna be okay,” you weep, pressing his hand to your forehead, letting your tears drip into your lap. “you’re gonna be okay, joel. just hang on.”

the next few minutes crawl by cruelly, joel surely leaving bruises on your hand from gripping yours too hard, too tight, but you can’t even care because when his hand finally goes slack, ellie is done. her handiwork isn’t so bad and the bleeding has stopped for the most part. when you sigh, it feels like the weight of the world leaves your shoulders, a degree of relief you’ve never felt in your life.

joel, stubborn as always, is fighting unconsciousness as you turn to look back at him and you know it’s because he knows he’s not entirely out of the woods yet. there’s still bleeding to stop, a potential infection to fight, medicine you need to find to keep him safe and healthy, but this has to be good enough for now. it has to be because he’s joel miller and he’s mucked it through gunshot wounds and temporary deafness and all kinds of other shit the world has thrown at him. 

ellie, clearly emotionally gone, stands, her dark eyes empty and her face void of everything save for exhaustion. without even looking at you, she turns towards the stairs and says to nobody, “going for a walk. i need a break.”

her footsteps echo in the stairwell and then creak overhead before she disappears out the front door, leaving you in an empty house with joel and the horse in the garage. you look back to joel, still holding his hand. his face, always so devoid of anything minus annoyance and anger, looks so relieved right now and it makes you want to cry again, but you’re shit out of saline. you lay his hand down beside him before you tuck his winter coat back over him, up to the chin.

there’s not much that you can say, no thoughts come to mind. nothing more than i love you, but you want to save those for when he’s safely out of the thick of this. as true as they are, it’s not the right time, but you’re sure he knows. he must when he scoots his hand out from under the coat and nudges it against your thigh, some gesture that you can’t decode, but that you understand as i’m still here, like he’s able to read your mind. you smile at him softly.

i’ll tell him when this is all over, you reason with yourself as you move to lay beside him, exhaustion finally overtaking you. wherever we end up after ellie is safe with the fireflies, i’ll tell him and he’ll say it back and we’ll be okay.

he can’t turn onto his side, but he turns his head to face you, looking every bit the age of fifty. his eyes are tired and the crinkles of his skin run deep, his cheeks and chin dusted gray. this close, you can see every pock mark, the dip of skin at his temple from some long-forgotten cut, the deep scar that mars the space between his eyebrows. his defenses are down and he looks his age, for the first time in a long time because it’s so easy to forget how old he is when he’s doing the things he does to protect you and ellie.

you scoot in as far as you’ll allow yourself, knees knocking against his legs and your head pillowed on the arm underneath you. you raise a hand and rest it on his cheek, a touch he immediately leans into, like your palm was made to caress his skin. as far as you care, it was. he tilts his head towards you and you find yourself doing the same, foreheads touching. this is one of the small gestures joel allows you on most days, but right now, it feels more monumental than that. like always, it’s a moment shared singularly between the two of you, but it carries so much more weight because he gazes at you with so much more softness and love than he’s ever let himself show before and it reminds you that underneath all that rough exterior, he is a man capable of gentle touches and adoration, no matter how many times the world and himself have tried to beat it out of him.

as his breathing slows, but deepens (a sure sign that ellie has mended the problem for now), you move your arm to rest on his torso, hand pressed into the sturdy spot just above his heart. the beat is steady, solid, a reminder that he’s okay. he was built to go, but now more than ever, you feel he was also built to be yours, to be loved by you. and you’ll make sure he makes it through this, no matter the cost.

(c) lskisms, 2023. do not repost, translate, or otherwise plagiarize my work. the only official versions of my work are available on tumblr and ao3 under the name lskisms.

[ftmtftm]

I’m sorry but until xenogenders and neopronouns can understand that I don’t want to “share my pronouns”, that I want to go through life as a normal, binary man, that I want assumptions to be made, that t isn’t some fun thing but a medical necessity for the rest of my life, that being trans isn’t a celebration but a condition for me and that I never want to be in a pride parade or even really open about it, until y’all can respect that, every single one of you, at least the fucking majority of you, then i can’t take anything seriously. I have been outed, assaulted, misgendered, and a whole bunch of other shit by “Tucutes” who walked all fucking over me as a binary trans person, I’ve been forced to be okay with they/them pronouns and been forced to be called the t-slur by a fake trans person because it was “affirming” for them to use on “other trans people”, I’ve been forced to wait years for t because the lines weee clogged up because people wanted to microdose it because they didn’t actually want the effects but they wanted to feel special, I’ve been outed as trans by fake trans people who want everyone to know what a cool catch I am, I’ve been told how gross t made me, I’ve been pushed out of every space that makes an effort to include as many people as possible because they start using rhetoric that sounds like the same rhetoric my transphobic father uses.

I cannot ever find joy in being trans, there is nothing to find joy in for me. Ever. I’m sick of people acting like it’s fun and silly and goofy. I’m sick of people appropriating a medical condition. I will always be sick of it. I am truly sorry that you had someone assault you and that they happened to be part of a community that I am also, but all transmeds want is some fucking respect for not doing this for whatever “euphoria” or political reason but because we fucking have to. All we want is respect and to not have our medical condition turned into playing make believe that you’re a “catgender” or an alien or whatever the fuck, do that on your own terms I don’t care, but the association with dysphoria and the fact that you will spit in the fucking faces of dysphoric binary trans people? That’s why transmeds exist

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Bullet points because genuinely, my patience is beginning to run very thin for you anon. My ask box and the new post button have two separate functions and I think there is one you should be using instead of the other.

This is just attention seeking behavior at this point, and I'll give it to you and I'll be compassionate but I won't let your shit slide.

I'm sorry, but this is genuinely like looking in a mirror at my 15-20 year old self and it sucks and I honestly feel very sorry for you. Your pain and upset is very real. Your feelings do matter. And? You need to talk to a mental health professional. Serious advice. You need a therapist or some kind of support group if you do not have one already. That is a lot of baggage that deserves to be explored with someone who can genuinely help you in a controlled environment - not the askbox of random trans people you take issue with because they remind you of traumatic events in your life. Your triggers and people who remind you of people who have hurt you are your responsibility to deal with. It's not the business of people who are literally just living their lives in ways that make them happy. The world doesn't need to change around you for your own comfort, you need to change yourself to make yourself comfortable.

It's honestly okay if being trans makes you upset. It's okay to lament and even grieve a life you wish you had but can't have because you are not cis. Again though, that is not an issue that people who aren't like you are causing though. It's genuinely your business to deal with those emotions - not theirs.

You are not a doctor. You are not a medical professional. You are not the one giving care and other people's medical needs, decisions, and histories are none of your g'ddamn business. It is absolutely ridiculous that wait times are what they are and that access to care is not what it should be - but that is a failure of the system not the people. You legitimately sound like working class folks who complain about people on food stamps "taking up all the government resources" and people who complain that "immigrants are taking all our jobs" right now. You are putting the burden of the system onto the individual when it legitimately isn't their fault. Ultimately you are actively being failed by the medical system you are attempting to covet, not by your fellow trans people.

I've also been told I'm disgusting for being on T. I've also been told I'm disgusting for wanting facial and body hair, for feeling comfortable in my masculinity, for loving being a man in all of its complexities. Even by other trans people. You are not alone in that experience. The solution to working through those emotions isn't to throw conservative complaining about food stamps and immigrants level tantrums about it like you are doing now though.

Being trans can be fun. Being trans can be silly and goofy. Again, it might not be that way for you and it sounds like you've been in an environment where you're not allowed to love yourself for any reason, let alone for being trans, so it's probably very hard for you to conceptualize experiences outside of your own - but you sound... very young. I promise it gets better with time and distance. Please leave the environments you are in when you are able, they don't sound healthy for you.

Point of order: My ex was not a transmedicalist, by any means. I was assaulted by them and felt disgusting and dysphoric because of it and found transmedicalism on my own afterwards to try to validate my sense of self. I was hurt by someone else and then turned my hurt into a weapon. It sounds like you've been hurt and are also turning that hurt into a weapon. I hope some day you're able to put it down.