#Right now though I am far more angry than I am depressed hence why I had to say something

[introvert-celeste]

It's so insane seeing all these atrocities continuing to take place for months and there are still people who whole-heartedly support Israel.

They will see the thousands of dead and dying Palestinian civilians, their bombed out homes and their leveled city and the IDF commiting the most heinous acts, and all they will think is "Hamas did this" and "but the hostages!" Nothing, absolutely NOTHING, can excuse the deaths of over 12,000 CHILDREN, not even if there were Hamas militants hiding behind each one. The Hamas are merely an excuse that they're using to decimate Palestine and colonize it for themselves. Land and profit are the zionists' end goals, and the governments who support this are the ones who stand to benefit.

Anyway, if hell exists I hope the monsters responsible for the Palestinian genocide go there soon.

[system--down]

Meet The System!

The Host🌹

Akarii

They/Them

*Non-binary

*Pan-Romantic

*Aesexual (Maybe grey? Far as I can say is that I am definitely not into sex or having sex like...at all. ^^" but I am not sex repulsed??)

*Artist

*Likes to use the water color brush in my art but have yet to discover the skills of "Consistancy" and "Clean" in art LOL

*Depressed-- it can hit hard sometimes...

*Friendly though!

*Smoll bean of an adult

*College Student (Working on my Bachelor's degree right now!

Gate Keeper (outer)

Nizz🐈‍⬛

He/Him

*First Responder

*First appeared to the Host at the age of 8 by the name of "Gary"

*Tends to change his name from time to time which is why he keeps " " around whatever name he is using at that time.

*has gone through 2 other names before he became "Niss"

*Likes Cats.

*has file on everyone in the System, any questions, he's the one to ask--

*Is called "Big Brother" in the Scape

*A bit moody and a little grumpy but is actually much softer than he often leads people to believe.

*stands around 5'8 (Not too tall, surprising for a gate keeper)

Triggers

*Co-fronts more often than you think but is generally triggered when the Host is feeling attacked or afraid or hits a severe depression wave. He is protective of the host (much like a "Big Brother" usually would be, hence why he has earned that name in the scape.) he stands around 5'8. He's not a very tall man. He is also much like the file keeper, keeping everyone in the system in line and annalyzes a situation before he figures out who is best to take the wheel when the Host Dissociates, or keep from an unwanted switch by sliding in himself.

Protector (outer)

Valen❤️💔

He/Him

*Made his first fronting attempt when some room mates fucked Akarii over so he decided to fuck them over back...

*Fairly hot tempered.

*Quite vulgar

*Showed himself more through roleplay as "Valentino"

*Pretty funny guy when not angry

*Very Verbal

*Foul mouthed

*Vain

*Stands at exactly 6 feet in the scape.

Triggers

Valen tends to be triggered when the host is under high emotional stress, irritation and anger...or if people talk about him. Chalk it up to his vanity--

Akarii is not very confrontational, where as Valen very much tends to be. For whatever reason he becomes sharply triggered when the ex comes into play...he really does not like that guy. No one in the system does but Valen would very much rip him 10,000 new holes if he were allowed to.

Anjay🕸️

He/Him

*Total Social Bug

*Loves to gossip

*Tells the Host "I Love You" all the time, very often every day multiple times a day....we haven't figured out why but it's nice.

*Loves to shop (especially for clothes

*Often dresses the Host up in pastels, and pinks and cute shit-- if it's pastel? Or pink? You can bet it was an Anjay Pick!

*Loves strawberry (As well as the color pink it seems)

*Is the tallest of the alters standing at 6'2 in the scape.

*Very friendly

*Loves to talk and chat

Triggers

According to some reading, it's possible for an alter to have multiple functions and for more than one alter to have similar functions--

He helps with the social anxiety and taking care of the host affectionately and emotionally. Functions as the BFF/Bestie/Someone to care for the host affectionately and emotionally. He is also the keeper of the music. ❤️

Vaux ⚡

He/Him

*Tends to "Mommy" the host.

*An internal motivator

*Lights a fire under their ass to get things done (such as taking care of themself, cleaning, getting work done.)

*Likes working with the production technology at school and so often fronts during those classes.

*A bit of a nag.

*likes the Monster Java Mean Bean

Triggers

Vaux gets triggered often when the host deals with their toxic mother. As well as during school or work to keep them going or just take over when the host is too tired. He works as a sorta parental figure and motivator. He also very much enjoys technology and multimedia and gets a happy stim anytime they have a production to set up for filming.

Wallace😾

He/Him

*Tends to "Daddy" the host.

*Doesn't really front too often.

*Is usually the one who does the cooking of "real food"

*Grumpy old man

*Hates "that processed shit"

*loves cooking steak

*Not a very social creature

Triggers

Wallace offers the "Fatherly role" in the system. He doesn't really socialize or front often unless he's cooking "real food" for the host.

Vio/Vinny🐰

They/He

*Is an anthro bunny

*Protector of The Host's Gender and Sexual Identity

*Believes in Retail Therapy

*Gets along well with Anjay which is often bad for Akarii's wallet...

*Also doubles an an OC RP Muse

Triggers

Vio is triggered when it comes to The Host's identity in both their Gender preferences and sexuality orientation. He gets a bit snippy if these things get disrespected and ignored.

Bubble🫧

She/Her

*Child

*Doesn't talk much.

*is the reason the host has so many squishmallows and stuffed animals

*Loves anything cute fluffy colorful and pastel.

*Unicorns!

*Her favorite bubble tea is Cotton Candy with rainbow pearls

*Cartoons!

*Coloring!

Triggers

Bubble is the system's little. Gaara is usually the one that keeps her maintained and entertained in the scape. She doesn't talk too often but Anjay will often talk for her. The two of them are particularly close.

Gate Keeper (inner)

Gaara⏳

He/Him

*Fictive

*Portrays similar traits to Gaara from "Naruto"/"Naruto Shippuden" which is the character he derrived from.

*Made a sudden "Awakening" late in the night...

*Valen does not like him very much...at all.

*Not too much of a talker

*Generally docile unless pushed, but does tend to try to keep the peace.

*Likes Desert Roses and Cacti

*Halos (seedless orange fruit similar to a tangerine) make him curious...but he enjoys eating them.

*Brings a little fear to the system given his abilities within the scape which consist of but are not limited to--

--putting up walls to block out other members of the system from knowing what he and the host talk about--

Or for blocking out unwanted memories that affect the host's emotional state or psyche

--Preventing further or sudden and unwanted switching between alters

--Locks out other alters from co-fronting when he's fronting, unless otherwise decided by him that he finds it nessasary or safe and okay to do so.

--Being able to Bring a sudden sort of "calm" over the chaos of the system.

*Keeps the little in check and prevents her from fronting during serious or important situations.

Triggers

Gaara awoke suddenly one night and no one understood how or why. But given time studying him and talking it's been noticed that he seems to front when the host is experiencing an emotionally unstable state of mind. Triggered by emotional situations such as high depression or intense emotional turmoil that affect the Host he takes over and stands guard to protect the host from any further emotional turmoil or damage. He can also create "Sand walls" within the scape that work as blocks to unwanted alter switching and/or blocking out unwanted memories that affect the Host's emotional state or state of mind.

Protector (Inner)

Neji

*He/Him

*Fictive

*Portrays similar traits to Neji Hyuuga from Naruto/Naruto Shippuden which is the character he derived from.

*focuses his protection more on the "inside" rather than the "outside"

Triggers

Neji is very curt and straight to the point. He doesn't pussy foot nor sugar-coat.

If Neji does not like you, he will out right say that he does not like you. And if you annoy him, he will say so. He is not particularly friendly, yet not unfriendjy either-- really, he's just not really all that social except with the host. And even then it's mostly scolding them about the living situation. Triggers that pull him out are generally persistent irritations. But...every once in a while he likes to front particular so he can enjoy a cup of tea...he tends to favor Oolong and earthy blends.

[whyjm]

Why I did not like the Spn finale

This is gonna be a long post..

I cannot get over my thoughts about how it ended and how bad I feel about it. I am so angry, sad and feel so utterly disappointed, I cannot wrap my mind around how this was supposed to be a satisfying tying up emotional archs ending??? Bc it was so far away from satisfying I would laugh if I was not presently crying over it..

There are several things that irked me a lot. Many people have voiced the problems of this show and its ending much more eloquently than I will ever be able to do.. But I gotta get these fucking thoughts and feelings out of my system.

I have been with Spn since the first episode aired. I am a straight woman, I don’t have to fight for representation, I don’t have to worry about coming out and being accepted for who I am, I don’t have the daily struggles of feeling anxious or depressed or suicidal or not being able to be who I am. I am lucky that way!

To me love is love and all love should be equal! And I stand with all who struggle and all who are not free to be who they are. I see you and I love you and I support you fully!!!

To see my friends having to fight, and then on top of that have a show that has meant so much to so many people be butchered and have a negative last message sent out, in its last 36 minutes of its life … It is a hard pill to swallow.

Cas and Dean  

In 15x18 we got to have a beautiful confession from Cas to Dean where Cas tells Dean he loves him and we know this is romantic love bc Cas begins by saying that the one thing I want I know I can’t have and then later I love you. Also Misha confirming it! This scene made me ugly cry so hard bc FINALLY.. (BUT what is missing from it.. the editing is strange.. bc Cas pushes Dean to the right but he falls to the left. Dean has no tears in his eyes while he looks straight at Cas when he talks, but he has tears in his eyes when he looks over his shoulder and see the empty. So what in this scene has been cut away and WHY?) Misha and Jensen did a great job with this and Cas got to find peace in just speaking his truth...  And it was beautiful to watch and after having seen Dean sitting sobbing on the floor the natural and logical continuation of this would have been to in the next episode address this, but in episode 19 no such thing happened. And I wondered where did Dean’s grief go where did his CARE for Cas go?? Dean who has been depressed and suicidal when Cas have died before is all of sudden cold and act like nothing have happened at least nothing that affected him very deeply.. It felt disconnected and strange. And it continued on like that and it felt very strange to NOT address such a HUGH plot point. It’s not enough to have Dean say to Chuck to bring Cas back or to see him wasted out of his mind, or hugging a dog like his emotional wellbeing depends on it.. This is not resolution or addressing it.

All of season 15 has felt like the relationship between Cas and Dean has been in focus and important to the overall arch of the season, and explored and then all of a sudden all traces of it are just ripped away, erased completely.. To have a confession like this go unacknowledged to me is poor writing bc you do not leave this big of a thing hanging in the air without resolution (fine you can argue Cas got resolution but I feel that no Cas did not get resolution either bc his feelings SHOULD have gotten a response no matter what that response was.. Dean did not, we never got to hear or see his version or his thoughts about it.)

I was thinking narratively they HAVE to address this, Deans thoughts and reactions to this gotta be shown. They HAVE to resolve this, acknowledge it. I have been sure a long time they would NEVER have Dean reciprocate Cas love  but keep it in subtext bc they are too fucking chickenshit to do that but at least have Dean talk about Cas….. that I expected him to do.. But it was not done in 19. I got the horrible feeling in my gut that they are not gonna resolve this they are gonna fuck this up, they are gonna go full brothers only and not give a fuck they are gonna push Cas out and show no care. Then we come to the final episode and boy howdy is there a lot to unpack with this episode.

(I had watched the long road home before the finale and when I watched that I KNEW that the end was going to be a letdown I felt it in all of me that I was gonna be disappointed. And I was proven right. And I have so many thoughts all jumbled up around each other that I don’t know in which end to start so sorry if what follows is incoherent and rambly.. )

15x20 - The end  

20 felt like a FILLER episode, right up until Dean’s death scene I was bored and was seriously considering turning my computer of and just not watch. (A finale should be as engaging and emotionally packed like episode 18 was. I refuse to acknowledge 20 as the end.. To me it ended on 19. That wrapped things up. Not completely satisfying but hell of a lot better than the disaster that 20 is.) But then Dean was impaled on that rusty spike thingy and I was watching with attention. I GET why they did Deans death the way they did, even if that is one shitty death for Dean and could have been fixed so he did not die.. I get what they wanted to get out of it: a brothers sad moment that they turned into a irksome thing. I actually cringed about the head thing and the hands and the farming of it all just urgh I got sick to my stomach watching that. What should have been a beautifully sad moment was put together in a romantic coded way and that to me ruined the heartfelt goodbye. Bc you do not touch and hold a dying family member like that. I KNOW I have said goodbye to my fair share of loved ones that I have loved soo deeply, but the thought of touching like that NO no way.. And also they have NEVER done that forehead touch in previous deaths, so to do this now just felt irksome.

They killed Dean a character that has struggled his whole life with being daddy’s blunt little instrument, who has self-worth issues and are suicidal, who has never lived for his own sake but have only ever lived to protect and raise another, he continues to put others before himself though (up until the last couple of seasons where we have seen them both break away from this toxic behavior). Finally he was allowed to LIVE and have a life that was not controlled, not running in a hamster wheel like a fucking puppet on a string. He was Free of all of that. He was free to go after what HE wanted for himself and what Dean wanted was LOVE, in my mind its perfectly clear that Dean loves Cas back bc that is what the story have been telling us.. its right there and the story do not make sense without it. Many others have done a great job at talking about this and describe this way better than me. So I leave further discussion about that topic to them.

Dean was looking for a job.  The angel Dean has loved since purgatory told him that he loved him and then died sacrificing himself to SAVE Dean yet again and then Dean dies a few days later.. How is this doing justice to Dean and what the hell kind of message does this send out to the ones watching?? They are saying it does not matter if you fight, your destiny is written for you and the only relief and comfort you will have will be death. They are saying Meh don’t fight it’s better to die bc it does not matter what you do. This is one of the fucked up messages this godawful ending sent to all those who have identified with Dean and Cas throughout the years.

They also say Cas who has been part of the story for 12 years is not important enough to have there, they IGNORED Cas, a mention in passing does not do justice to a character that has been crucial to the boys lives for 12 years. Dean Screamed in Sam’s face CAS IS FAMILY, Dean was destroyed when Cas died, he was hurt when Cas left bc everyone leaves Dean, Sam missed Cas etc… but still not important enough to show up in heaven in the last episode greeting first Dean and then Sam to heaven.. PFT…

To leave Cas and Misha out of the FINALE of a show that he has been part of for 12 years is so fucking disrespectful to Cas, to Misha and ALL the fans who love and adore both. It also makes no sense since  they all say how beloved Cas and Misha are. and don’t go fucking covid made it impossible bc the last scene with all those people without masks.. No that is just lying liars who lie…Covid my ass! This angers me a lot.

Family do end in ONLY blood apparently…..  

(And maybe lead to a lot of viewers for walker???  hence this very nice shirltess Sam scene............. ) shirtless Sam is always good though so no complaining here.

We see Sam and the dog give Dean a hunters funeral.. NO OTHERS are there?  How is it possible that none of the found family wouldn’t want to be there and show up?? Jack has restored everyone but still only Sam and the dog are there, no Eileen, no Jody and the girls, Donna, Garth, and the list goes on and on. Bc they wanna hammer in harder that supernatural has ever only ever been about two brothers and no one else matters ever.. It does not matter that this has not been true since the earlier seasons. The show of course is about Sam and Dean’s lives and journey through life, and I have loved to follow along on their journey.  BUT it was a long time ago this was the ONLY thing that mattered (bc if it had only been about the brothers the show would NOT have gone on for this long). Along the way they have picked up FOUND Family, and the message of the show has been Family don’t end in blood, Always Keep Fighting. But this last episode reverted back to season 1 and disregarded ALL character growth and storytelling of the past 12 years and went with fuck it ONLY Sam and Dean are important. So the next fucked up message they sent where: There is no Family don’t end in blood.. The only family that matters is blood. And then they have the balls to say Always Keep Fighting.. Are they fucking kidding????

Character development…….. who????  

Sam lives on after Dean dies and we get a montage of his life where he look miserable and is shown to not being able to get over that Dean died. We get a blurry wife and a kid named Dean. In his house there are photos of ONLY himself, Dean and their parents and maybe one of his son? Don’t remember all the details and refuse to watch that episode ever again. But no friends, no family, no happy moments are shown, it looked like a very lonely life. He dies with only his son there.. WHERE are Sam’s friends??? This montage of Sam’s supposed happy life is NOT happy bc he is not able to get over that Dean is dead, he can’t live a  happy life bc Dean is not there - again something that irked me and felt disrespectful to all the growth Sam and Dean have gone through. It was toxic codependency all the way through and that is not satisfying to watch. Especially since the brothers had actually broken that dependency. Sam had broken free, Sam have through the years wanted to get away from Dean and live his life as he wants and then he was happy…We have a moment way back in season 5 maybe? Where Sam runs away and this is shown as one of his happy moments in dark side of the moon.. No Dean in his happy places, Sam having thanksgiving with his girlfriend and her family, Sam alone with a dog. We have Sam and Amelia when Dean was in purgatory. So Sam IN text have been shown being able to be happy without Dean so why could he not do it this time?? Makes no sense! You can grieve but still have a good life.. But they CHOSE to show it like Sam was miserable bc Dean was dead and life was not worth living happily without Dean there..

The brothers have lately interacted like two individual adults, separated from each other, making their own decisions and trusting each other in making them, they wanted different things in life. And seriously WHERE DID EILEEN GO?? Why was Sam not reunited with Eileen that he some eps previous was shown to love, no instead they had blurry wife which feels like such a cop out. Sam did not get to live a happy fulfilling life and why did Sam not deserve to live a happy life with Eileen??? I know they are blaming corona for a lot of things missing in the finale that they intended.. BUT and this is a BIG BUT remember Jensen did not like the ending it did not sit well with him, he had a hard time digesting it, he objected to the ending! He spoke about that dying in battle would not be a satisfying ending - see the video of him talking about this at SDCC 2019. There is so much more to say about this but other people have voiced it so much better than I ever could so I move on to the next issue.

Dean in heaven  

Dean when he first arrives there happens upon Bobby who tells him John and Mary lives down the road and that Rufus and Arheta lives around there too. I hope Bobby’s wife was indoors, and that Jack with the help of Cas fixed heaven.  To this Dean only smirk/smiles.. and then Dean sees baby and goes for a drive ALONE with the words he will be here soon from Bobby again Sam is the only one that ever matter PFT. Dean who found a home in the bunker alongside Sam, Cas and Jack who told John: I have a family and that he was happy with himself and his life…. Spends his time endlessly driving around alone just waiting for Sam to appear.. ALL of Deans growth is thrown out the window.. he is reduced to salad dressing. Deans only purpose is to live for his brother and cannot possibly have what he WANTS for himself not even in death. He drives around for who knows how many years until Sam dies. HOW is this justice to DEAN? How is this a good and satisfying ending for Dean. Dean who wanted to LIVE, Dean who wanted to experience people in new ways, who had let go of Sam and saw Sam as his own person, now in heaven only drives around waiting for Sam to get there having no life or meaning of his own. It pisses me off to no end that they reverted back to toxic codependent Sam is all that is important to Dean shit.. They have broken away from this shit years ago and this is how they choose to end it right back at the beginning..

Now what is the point of telling  a story of growth and love and life if all that that journey amounts to is ending up at the exact point it started on?? You can watch season 1 and 2 and then this finale and it makes sense.. But having watched season 1-15 this ending does great injustice to the characters and the story. Again many others have written way better posts about this that expresses the great disappointment and hurt that is being screamed everywhere right now.

The Actors

I want to add the performance of all actors through the years, the love and care they have poured into their characters are amazing I have loved every bit of that journey. I love Jared, Jensen and Misha, and all the others for their amazing work and that is maybe why it hurts so much it ended in this way!

[thewalkingfanfictions]

Softly, Barely a Whisper -- Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (part one)

Softly, Barely a Whisper — Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (pre apocalypse) (part one)

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three

Description: (Name) moved in with her uncle, the Sheriff of a little town in Northern Georgia, to escape an abusive household. While living with her uncle, she meets Daryl, a redneck with a heart of gold and a life very similar hers. Fluff and angst and awkward shy Daryl Dixon ensue.

⚠Warning⚠: great amounts of bad language, past mentions of abuse, past mentions of rape, there's probably more, this'n's kinda a mess. Don't read if you get triggered easily.

Genre: angsty fluff?? Hurt/comfort?? I've no idea. Is awkward Daryl a genre?

Pairing: teen!Daryl Dixon x teen!fem!abused!reader

A/N: hey, sorry I've been gone for forever, I suck at commitment. I also suck at naming things, hence the title. I wrote another long motherfucker of a "oneshot" and therefore am breaking it into chapters like I did with Impromptu Cuddles, so look out for the other chapters soon enough. Enjoy.

Words without A/N: 3242

<—————————————>

"Sure thing, Daryl. You can use whatever ya'd like, just make sure you put it back afterwards. The doors unlocked and yer more than welcome to go in for a drink or anythin' if ya need it." Bill Coleman, or Sheriff Coleman, as most knew him by, called out as he moved to open the door to his cruiser.

The Sheriff was an interesting character to the youngest Dixon. He had hardened features and a voice like a gravel truck that immediately implied a harsh disposition, his eyes were constantly squinted into a look that resembled judgment, and the vibe he gave off was just generally unpleasant; but, in all reality, Bill Coleman was probably the gentlest man Daryl had ever met. He understood the workings of the Dixon household without ever having to be told, and did what he could to make life any bit easier for the teenager. Whether that be arresting the senior Dixon whenever he found possible, or offering Daryl a place to stay in his home over the weekend. Bill was, all in all, a genuinely kind human being. Something, Daryl found, was rather rare in his life.

But, even though the Sheriff had his trust, and he knew the Sheriff trusted him the same, it still came as a bit of a shock to him to see the officer willingly let him, a Dixon, have open access to his house while no one else was home.

Everyone knew not to trust a Dixon. Nobody in the town was willing to make eye contact with him, let alone trust him to their house and belongings while they were away. Will, his father, had done a fine job of destroying the family name in his drunken escapades, and his brothers addictions did nothing to help. This, combined with the confusion and disbelief that coursed through his system, explained the gawk the boy's eyes held as he stared in awe at Mr. Coleman's retreating figure.

This had to be some kind of trick, right?

"Oh," the Sheriff called. There it was, the part where he'd laugh it off and say "just kidding. Like I'd let a freak like you into my home without supervision."

Once again surprising the young man, his expectation was the farthest thing from what the greying man actually said.

"I fergot ta mention my niece, my sisters kid. She'll be here soon enough, gets off work in a half hour or so. She's been stayin' with me since, ah–" he trailed off a bit, one leg up in the cruiser, the other still planted firmly on the ground as he looked at Daryl over the door's window, looking mildly uncomfortable "–well, she's jus' stayin' with me. She's real sweet, you'll prolly get along with 'er. Jus', eh, just be soft, ya hear? She's a bit skittish, and real shy, too, so don't be too offended if she avoids ya, she don't mean it rude like."

And what on earth could he mean by that? The avoiding that he'd done when describing why she was here, what had happened that he didn't want to talk about? Daryl had a few theories already.

"'Till later, Daryl. Take care, and remember what I told ya, boy." With a wave and a caring (or warning, he could never quite tell with the old man) smile, the grizzled man pulled out of the small driveway and onto the road leading out of the trailer park to go do his civic duty, leaving a still heavily confused, and now slightly concerned, Daryl Dixon standing outside of his garage.

This man, knowing his family's history with bad habits, was not only willing to let the teenager into his home without a watchful eye, but was also perfectly okay knowing he'd be there, alone, with his (skittish and shy) niece?

Maybe the old man is finally losing it, he thought.

Still in shock, the young man turned on his heel, and began the short trek back to the shedd to continue working on the pickup that he had been working on fixing up. Though it was really nothing but a shell sitting on bricks right now, he knew that someday it'd be his pride and joy.

Some uncounted amount of time later, Daryl was finally pulling himself out from under the hood. His throat itched with dryness, and he was covered in sweat from the never-ending harshness of the Georgian sun, but, nonetheless, he couldn't help the little spike of pride that ran through him as he looked down at the beginnings of the new-made guts of his pickup. Allowing himself the luxury of a small smile, he decided he'd finally take the old Sheriff up on his offer, and moved to head into the house to grab something to wet his throat, and maybe even a rag to wipe off his face, if he was feeling risky.

He found, upon entry, that the house was relatively clean. Cleaner than it had been the last time he'd been in there, at least, and only as clean as an old trailer house could really get.

Still, where before there had been newspapers scattered, now there were none, and in place of the cluttered kitchen was a clean countertop and a basket of fresh apples. He didn't dwell on it a whole lot as he moved to the sink to fill up a plastic solo cup, though he did wonder if Bill would mind if he stole an apple. The young Dixon couldn't really remember the last time he'd eaten.

Filling his cup, he was quick to chug it down, the cold a dramatic (but welcome) shock against the harsh dryness of his throat. He let the water run into the sinks basin as he filled the cup up again, again, and then one more time, and only on his fifth return to the water did he realize the difference in sound. A few inches of water was backed up in the bottom of the sink, refusing to go down the drain like it should, and completely changing the sound the water pouring from the faucet made as it headed downwards.

Quickly setting the cup aside and turning off the faucet, he watched the water make its incredibly slow decent into the drain, and decided he needed to pay back Sheriff Coleman's hospitality. It was the least he could do, after all.

Opening the doors that lead to the plumbing beneath the sink, Daryl set himself to work.

~~~~~~~~~~×~~~~~~~~~~

"Good night, (name)!" Mr. Sennet's overly cheery voice called to the young woman as she moved her way through the front doors of the diner.

Calling out a quick goodbye to him as well, she hurriedly climbed into her rig. A shitty little Honda though she was, she still got the young (name) from a to b, and (name) would be forever grateful to her uncle for gifting it to her.

Dusk was just beginning to settle as she took off towards her new residence, and she worried slightly if her uncle would be angry that she was out later than usual. The diner had been busier tonight than normal, and instead of getting off at seven, as per usual, it was now closer to nine.

Taking a calming breath, she reminded herself aloud:

"He's not like they were, he won't be mad at you. He's not like them, he won't be mad."

Though she really did believe it, she still repeated it aloud to herself the entire way back to the house, as if she thought she could will it into existence if she hoped hard enough.

It was silly, she knew, but she didn't really care. After all she'd been through, she thought she deserved a little self reassurance.

The drive to her new home was short lived, though she didn't much mind. She hated to be alone now, it gave her too much time to think, and far too much time to overthink. A regular pastime of hers, it seemed.

It was odd, really. Before, when it was just her and the chromed glass house and the bruising voices, before she was taken away by her uncle, she loved to be alone. She cherished the times of peace she had between the hurt. Now, if she was alone for more than thirty minutes, it was likely she'd be found having a mental breakdown in a bathtub.

But, enough of the depressing stuff.

As the scarred girl pulled into the driveway, she didn't notice the second pair of tracks that accompanied her uncles, as she was far too wrapped up in her head. Something she'd be sure to kick herself for at a later date. She didn't notice the single light that was on in the kitchen, either, nor did she pay mind to the tools that lay neatly around their box as she passed the shedd that functioned as a garage, and she simply put the shell of a pickup truck that sat just outside off as another of her uncles pastimes. Opening and stepping through the front door, she didn't even notice the smudge of mud off the sole of someone's shoe that was left on the carpet.

She did, however, definitely notice the way the hair on the back if her neck stood to attention at the sound of a voice that most definitely wasn't the Sheriffs cursing angrily from the kitchen. Metal clinking to the ground and a tapping on something that echoed like tubing followed behind the exclamation, and (name) felt herself seize up in fear.

"It can't be them," she reminded herself silently, "it isn't them, it can't be."

Swallowing her fear, trying desperately not to let the tears that branded the backs of her eyes build enough to fall, (name) forced herself to move farther into the room, grabbing the aluminum baseball bat that resided behind the door and dropping her bag by a table near the door as she did.

Thinking back to the little bit of self defence that Bill had taught her upon her moving in, she pulled the bat to her side to keep it close enough that no one could easily pull it from her grasp, but could still cause some damage if shoved forwards hard enough.

Sneaking around the corner of the refrigerator that hid the person from view, she took a deep, calming breath before poking her head around to take a peek.

He was young, she could tell, likely not much older than herself. Shaggy, brown-blond hair nearly reached broad shoulders, and even though he was hunched over beneath the kitchen sink, she could still tell he was much larger than her. Muscles flexed under a sleeveless button-down shirt as he twisted a wrench against the plumbing under the basin, grunting lightly as he did.

He didn't seem like he was there to cause trouble, she figured. Who in their right minds broke into a house just to fix their backed up sink? Oh dear, maybe he's not in his right mind? What if they sent him and he's here to kill the girl? What if he was there to bring her back to them somehow? But they were away, they couldn't hurt her, could they? Even from the depths of prison, or the entrapment of the psych ward, the girl didn't really doubt that one of the two could get a word out to have her hurt (killed?) for getting them put away. She was going to die now and she wouldn't even be able to fix the meatloaf that she had planned for tonight's dinner. She felt her body begin to tremble (or perhaps it was already, and she only just then noticed) and her eyes glazed themselves with tears, to her dismay.

Could she swing and knock him unconscious? Could she at least discombobulate the man long enough to escape? Could she really even hurt somebody like that?

Before she could come to a decision, however, the decision came to her.

Away in the living room, a phone rang. The shrill tlrrring! making both bodies jump slightly, and causing the boy bent beneath the kitchen sink to take notice of young (name).

Blue eyes widened as he caught sight of her, baseball bat clutched in hand, and he threw himself backwards and away, slamming his body into the ovens door. Instinctively, his arms moved to guard his face and torso.

"Fuck! Fuckin' hell, girl!" The loud exclamation startled the girl, and she jumped again, shoving against the refrigerator hard enough to make it rattle dangerously.

~~~~~~~~~~×~~~~~~~~~~

Fixing the plumbing turned out to be far more difficult than Daryl had originally assumed. The bits holding the stuff to the things was rusted on, making it difficult to loosen the thingy mabob and clear anything clogging the that thing.

Putting all of his focus into wrenching the bits away from the stuff, Daryl completely failed to notice the other presence in the room with him, and when the phone in the other room shocked him out if his thoughts, he found his mind immediately assuming it was his father standing there with a weapon in hand.

As his back hit the oven and his arms moved to guard his head, he caught full sight of the person, and quickly came to realize his mistake. His heart beat harshly against his ribs, and he couldn't help but exclaim his dislike for the situation.

"Fuck! Fuckin' hell, girl!"

At his shout, the girl flinched away from him so harshly that he thought the refrigerator was going to come crashing down on top of him, and he immediately felt guilty, for some odd reason.

She looked absolutely terrified. (Eye color) eyes big as saucers, glazed with fear and glossy with tears, shaking hands gripped the metal of the baseball bat so hard her skin turned white, and her entire body was shaking like a leaf. Her eyes never left his form as he slowly stood up from the ground, one hand still held out in front of him, whether to ward off an attack, or to show he meant no harm, neither really knew. The girl was down right terrified of him, and he hadn't so much as said a word to deserve it yet.

This had to be the niece the Sheriff was talking about, he decided. The scared look she was giving him as she slowly backed away from him made him feel downright awful, and he knew he needed to do something to show her he meant no harm. So, remembering her uncles words, Daryl worked to make his voice a bit less gruff than usual, and tried to keep the edge out of his tone.

"Uh-uh, I ain't here ta hurtcha, girlie–" she took another quick step back "–I'm a friend of Bill's. I was jus' comin' in ta get a drink, I ain't here ta hurtcha."

There was far more that could be said, he knew, but words never really were his forté, and he wasn't sure how much he could talk before he made her more uncomfortable. However, the little bit that he had said, mostly naming her uncle, he thought, had made her shoulders un-hunch a bit, though she kept her distrusting posture. Smart girl.

Slowly lowering the bat until it pointed at his chest she grabbed it with both hands and hesitantly backed out of the kitchen, beckoning him to follow her. Keeping him safely at the end of the bat, and moved to pick up the still-ringing phone and gingerly press it to her ear, her eyes never leaving him, and the bat never wavering (though it did shiver along with her tremors.)

Her eyes relaxed a bit more at the voice on the other end of the line, and though Daryl couldn't much hear the words that were being said���aside from the mumbled tone—he could still tell it was the sheriffs deep voice that spoke.

"Yeah? Uh-hm, good, I uh, I guess... I did. Of course," as she spoke to the formless voice, Daryl couldn't help the small spike of fear that ran up his spine. What if the Sheriff didn't want him there now that he'd scared the girl? He had warned him, he thought. What if Bill made him go back to his shit-hole house and wouldn't let him come back again? This place was one of the few he had to escape that hell, he didn't want to lose that. What if the officer freaked and called Daryl's dad to come pick him up? He'd have hell to pay if he let that happen. He was sure he'd end up with a few more scars at least if his dad were to find out that someone knew of what went on behind closed doors. The Sheriff, no less. What if he–

His spiraling thoughts were disrupted when he caught the sound of his name coming from the other end of the phone line and immediately tuned back in.

"Uhm, uh, yeah, I–I guess. I mean, yeah, yes, he's still here... Oh, no, he's, uh, he's been nice enough," was she even still talking about the red-necked youth? "Yes, of course it's okay, uncle Bill. Sure-sure thing, yeah, that's okay with me. I was thinking about making meatloaf tonight, anyway, that usually makes enough for more than just you an' me."

Wait, what?

The girl had lowered the weapon, though she still kept a tight grip in it, and gave him a shy, almost apologetic smile, before finally letting her eyes dart away. Daryl stayed frozen in his spot. What was even happening?

"–oh," she suddenly looked dejected at whatever had been said on the other side. Scared, almost. "Yeah, no, no, that's-that's okay, uncle Bill, sure thing. It's okay, promise," she suddenly donned a small smile, and though he knew imediately that it was fake, he still found himself startlingly light-of-breath at the sight.

"Yeah, of course, see you tomorrow, uncle, stay safe." Tomorrow? What? Why was all this so confusing to the youngest Dixon? Why was the disappearance of her smile making him feel so hollow?

The sudden change in the expression that the smaller figure wore was dramatically startling to Daryl. Going from sad and scared and sorry and a bit regretful to blushing and wincing and all together uncomfortable in the blink of an eye, the girl shriekingly exclaimed:

"Uncle Bill! No! Ew, gross! Don–Don't say things like that, ya nasty!" Daryl couldn't help but find her blush and stutter quite endearing.

Even from the few paces away that he was, he could still hear the loud laugh that erupted from the other side of the phone.

"Alrigh–alright, uncle Bill," the girls face was still flushed intensely, "I'm hanging up on you now... Yeah, yes, okay—thanks for that." She winced again at whatever he'd said, and she somehow flushed even harder. In a softer voice, now, "I'll see you tomorrow, then. Stay safe." Her last words were barely a whisper.

Slowly pulling the phone away from her ear, the girl placed it gently on the receiver before turning to glance at Daryl, though he took note that she never once fully looked at him again.

"I'm, uhm, I'm sorry," she whispered, grimacing softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ו×~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[mental-health-advice]

MASSIVE CW ABOUT SU*CIDE

I have a friend of 6 years. I love her dearly to pieces. she helped me through my high school depression saved me from committing suicide. because of covid i came back to my childhood town, and i was going to leave back to my city in may but something happened. recently she came to me saying she was suicidal. this broke my heart but i began to try my best to help, i called her everyday, tried to make her laugh, made her food, made sure she was drinking water, i hung out with her a few times & i began to see the light in her eyes a little bit. every time we hung out i would go home & cry because i have a deep rooted fear of death related to my ptsd so i was freaking out in the inside i was trying to be strong for her. trying to be her light but behind closed doors i was broken because these aren’t things i could magically fix for her. a week later we plan a picnic on a very emotional anniversary of mine to help me cope but it was a way of me making sure she ate too. point being is that i was already emotional the day, i know in no way was this an excuse but she started talking about how she felt. i panicked i had a full blown panic attack thinking about her dead. she asked me what was wrong & i blew up. i was holding her hand begging her to fight this, begging her to get therapy (she said she doesn’t like that it’s in person i said it doesn’t matter she needs to try) it all came out of my mouth, i regretted it as soon as it came out. i said that if she doesn’t want to fight for herself she could fight for me. i would miss her too much, i’m fighting for her. if she were to i will never forgive her. i told her if she was a ghost she would see how much it would affect me and the many people who love her so dearly . i told her the day she dies i die too a part of me does, i said weren’t you the one who said you’d tell me that i’m beautiful to the day we die & that’s not any time soon? i said i didnt mind taking care of her i would do anything to help and i’m trying my best to help but i can’t pretend i’m okay. i held her hand so tightly and said i was trying to push strength into her. i told her she needed to tell me when she got to that low point because i would come running to her door, i told her i don’t care i’ll listen to everything thats on her mind. i begged her to tell me what she wanted and she said everything i’m doing was more than enough. she proceeds to tell me im the only one who knows. i hugged her and kissed her and left home. she tells me everything i give her aka love and attention is everything she doesn’t want she just wants to be alone. i profusely apologized about my breakdown and said i was being selfish and dismissive and self centered. i just thought maybe if she knew my side she’d want to fight extra hard or something? my friend said that it’s things people need to hear that they’re not alone. so i haven’t talked to her in a month. in the past month i have experienced the worst pain of my life so far i have gone to hell and i have not came back. i’m so angry at myself, my body is a wreck i haven’t taken my meds as a self punishment ive lost 7 pounds because i haven’t ate becaus i throw everything up. i’m so guilty and i feel so selfish even though 7 people (including one who lost a brother to suicide) agree with me that i didnt do anything inherently awful. i don’t know why she expected me to be cool with this. to fold my hands and be like sure how ahead of course not! her and i have always been so involved in each other’s problems so it was expected i wouldn’t take it so easy that’s how ive always been so hand on with helping and providing support. i feel like in that moment i know i wasnt providing support. i had one job one job only to listen and even then i fucked up. i know it sounds like i managed go turn a situation to be about me i’m angry too. been a month ,i messaged her apologizing begging her to say something anything i’ll do anything to make it up to her i promised i would never flip out again. nothing. am i fucked? what should i do next? what woukd you do in my situation. thank you sm

Hey there Rose,

It sounds like you did everything you could for your friend from the very beginning. You went out of your way to help support her and continued to do so for as long as you possibly could!

It’s so hard when we are helping to support a friend through suicidal thoughts/ impulses, it can be so very draining on us and even if we are in a good headspace ourselves at the time. It must also have been triggering for you at times with your past struggles with suicide. I know that you probably felt like you had to really help support your friend as she had for you throughout high school but it’s so important to remember that we as friends can only do so much and even though she was there for you in your time of need, you don’t owe her anything. I know that this may seem harsh but it’s the truth. She was there for you as she was in a place in her life where she felt like she could help to support you. With this being said though, because you are supporting your friend it’s so important that you look after yourself too, that you don’t let her life and struggles with suicide consume you and become the center of your world. I know how easy it is to let this happen too, I’ve done it myself, and hence why I know how important self-care is.

I know that you are upset with yourself for ‘blowing up’ at your friend when you had that picnic with her but it sounds like things just got too much for you and that things were building up inside of you until you exploded, like a volcano. Please don’t beat yourself up over this, you did your very best to hold on for as long as you did and I’m sure your friend was really appreciative of you for that. Going home and feeling so upset and worried for her though is not helpful or healthy at all for you. You need to have other enjoyments in life, other things that you can focus on other than your friend if that makes sense? And I think that this is partly why you reacted as you did when you were at that picnic with your friend, you just couldn’t handle things anymore which is quite understandable I think given how much stress and pressure you were under at the time.

Given everything that happened, I do not think you have messed up at all and that you should give yourself a bit of a break! We are only human after all and like all humans we can only deal with and cope with so much until it all becomes overwhelming and explodes up in our face. Does that makes sense? And I know, I know how much easier it is to say this when you’re on the outside looking in, but please don’t be so hard on yourself. You are a loving, caring, beautiful person and yes, it hurts that you haven’t heard from your friend for such a long period of time, but maybe this is just what she needs right now?

For example, maybe it’s given her the push she needed to get some professional help and start therapy? Maybe it’s taught her to stand a bit more on her own two feet or helped her to realise that in life it isn’t healthy to just depend on one person when you are struggling so much and so it’s best to surround yourself with a group of people so they can all help you together, share helpful ideas, support one another, things like that. There’s also the possibility that she feels really bad and guilty for all she has put you through and she feels like she needs to give you a break and some time off from the stress and all the pressure that was thrust upon you.

I do not think it is fair on you that she has cut contact and hasn’t replied to you at all but it’s important to know that this is her issue not yours. You have not done anything wrong and only did the very best you could have done given the situation, but please know that you can only help someone so much and sometimes it’s up to the other person (your friend) to let you in and to help themselves a bit too.

So given your situation that you are currently in, I don’t think that there is much you can do right now. I know how hard it is to just sit in limbo with everything but what else can you do until your friend decides on what she needs and contacts you when she’s ready to. So maybe in the meantime be extra kind to yourself, look after you, do some things that you love and enjoy doing and more importantly reach out to people yourself when/ if you feel the need to!

I really do hope that this has helped a bit and please do keep us updated if you want and let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you and hope that you’re going well!

Take care,

Lauren

[xxpadfootxx]

🐾When Doves Cry🐾

Summary: Against her better judgement, Ochako saves the one Izuku loves... no matter how unexpected the results turn out to be.

~~~

Ochako hated this feeling. She knew it was wrong and selfish, and she wanted nothing more than to dispel it from her system, refresh herself, and ignore the sight in front of her. She knew it was jealousy that raked at her heart as her eyes settled on Izuku and Melissa chatting away happily a few tables away from them, but she refused to acknowledge it, forcing herself to look back at her plate and shovel food into her mouth. She wanted to be happy for them, wanted to be able to be around them without wanting to vomit, but her heart forced her to feel this way. She grunted and shoved more food down her throat, trying to distract herself. The food was delicious but she could barely taste it as her eyes disobeyed her brain and looked towards the pair again, her heart clenching when she saw Izuku tilt his head back and laugh heartily at something Melissa said. It sickened her how much she wanted to be in Melissa’s place, wanting to hold Izuku, make him laugh, cuddle him, kiss him. Her cheeks flushed and she turned back to her dinner, fighting back the tears that threatened to appear.

“How pathetic,” Ochako muttered to herself, angry at the tears that pushed against her eyelids, angry at the coiling feeling in her stomach, angry at the beast that roared in fury at the sight of Melissa and Izuku together, angry at everything. A hand on her shoulder jolted her from her swirling thoughts, making her jump.

“Hey, are you alright? You’ve been spacing out for a while.”

Ochako looked up to see her best friend, Tsu, standing beside her, holding her own tray of food in her free hand.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry!” Ochako said, injecting false cheerfulness into her voice and forcing a smile to her face. It was obvious that her friend saw through the excuse and the smile, but the frog girl said nothing as she settled into the seat beside Ochako.

The pair ate in silence for a while, Tsu’s presence finally starting to calm the turmoil in Ochako’s gut. Something about the gentle, cool-headed frog girl was just so calming, and it helped distract Ochako for the first time all evening.

“Is it because of Midoriya?” Tsu asked suddenly, causing Ochako to choke slightly on her bite of food. Coughing and pounding her chest, Ochako swallowed her food painfully and turned to look at her friend incredulously.

“What are you talking about?” Ochako asked, trying to act as if she had no idea what Tsu was talking about.

“Don’t play dumb, Ochako, you’ve been looking so depressed lately and I want to know what’s wrong. Hence why I asked. So, is it Midoriya?”

Ochako sighed. She knew she wouldn’t be able to dodge her way out of this one, Tsu was way too observant and patient to let any excuse get by her. Glancing at her friend, Ochako nodded, her face flushed. Tsu sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Ochako.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, it’s nobody’s fault but mine. If I wanted him, I should’ve said something. Instead, I hid my feelings away and refused to say anything like the coward I am. Now, he has someone who was able to take that step. I should be happy for them, I want to be happy for them, and I know I will eventually come to terms with it. For now, though, I just feel sad. That’s all. I’ll be back to normal in a few days,” Ochako said, flashing Tsu a sad smile.

An airy giggle made both girls turn to see Melissa, with a bright blush on her face, leaning over to whisper something into Izuku’s ear. The green-haired boy leaned away from her, his face also rivaling that of a tomato, his hand coming up to lightly slap her arm. Melissa giggled again as Izuku averted his gaze, a sheepish smile plastered on his face. The sight made Ochako’s heart squeeze almost painfully.

Melissa and Izuku were together. It was painfully obvious, and everyone knew about their new relationship. Everybody saw the look in their eyes as they looked at each other, and the times when they would hold each other’s hands under the table. Everyone would watch with wide eyes as they whispered sweet nothings in each other’s ears and followed each other back to their rooms in the evenings.

It made Ochako sick to her stomach but there was nothing she could do. She had missed her chance to be with the love of her life. Standing abruptly, Ochako said goodbye to Tsu and took her tray to be disposed of. Shoving down her feelings with an almost angry sense of determination, Ochako left the cafeteria without looking back.

~~~

“SHIT!” Ochako yelled as she looked up to where a villain with a growth quirk was smashing his fist through buildings left and right. Ochako thanked whatever gods there were that she was in her hero costume, having gone out to train right before the villain appeared. People began to scream and run as debris fell like rain from the sky, pummeling the streets and destroying the smaller buildings below the skyscrapers.

This was bad. Under normal circumstances, villains were a bad thing in general, but here on I-Island, where the population was smaller and the area of land was limited, a villain appearance became even worse. These people had nowhere to go, and it was obvious that people were beginning to panic over that fact, their eyes wide and their paces frantic as they searched for a path to safety.

Ochako did not hesitate to jump into the action, her legs carrying her to the building right beside the villain. Ducking to avoid the falling debris, Ochako activated her quirk on herself and shot into the air, floating upwards until she was able to reach the top of the crumbling structure. The villain was focused on the destruction he was causing, his face scrunched up in wicked glee as he rammed his fist into the building once more.

Ochako closed her eyes for a moment as she hid behind a large slab of debris, trying to think of a plan. Opening her eyes again, she scanned the area, looking for some way to subdue him. That’s when her eyes settled on the huge, open ceiling stadium the island often used for science festivals. Her eyes widening, she formed a plan in her mind. If she could get him to the stadium, the other heroes would be in a better position to help, and the steel arches that rose up on the side of the stadium might just trap his legs, keeping him from causing any more damage.

Jumping out from her hiding spot, Ochako pressed her fingers to the debris she had just been hiding behind and charged at the villain, the debris following her as she ran. The villain turned to look at her but wasn’t quite quick enough before the slab of broken building slammed into him, hitting him square in the face. The villain stumbled back with a pained roar, his large hand coming up to paw gingerly at his broken nose. When his eyes turned to Ochako, they spelled out death in the worst way possible.

Ochako wasted no time using her quirk on herself to jump from building to building, continuing to fling debris and spew insults at him as she ran. The villain focused solely on her, his eyes flashing dangerously as he sped up, following her as she streaked for the stadium. The villain was hot on her heels, hand reaching out to snatch her when suddenly the villain was thrown backward. The large beast of a man landed firmly on his butt, creating a small crater in the street. Ochako snapped her head around just in time to see a flash of green as Izuku launched at the villain, who was attempting to stand back up. Izuku’s next move forced the man back down onto the street. The villain growled in frustration as he placed his hands on the street and jumped up onto the balls of his feet.

“Deku!” Ochako yelled as Izuku went to knock him down again, only to have to dodge as the villain swiped at him with both huge hands. Izuku used his quirk to jump far away from the villain’s reach before looking at Ochako. The floaty hero in training beckoned him over as the villain began to push himself back onto his humongous feet.

“Help me lead him to the stadium, we can subdue him there,” Ochako said as soon as Izuku reached her. Her best friend nodded enthusiastically, a wide smile on his face, and his eyes sparkling as he regarded her plan. It was a simple plan but one that would work exceedingly well for this unique situation. Leaping away from her again, Izuku aimed a powered punch at the villain’s face rather than his gut, the gear on his arms from Melissa keeping him from breaking his arms on impact. The attack struck true as the villain’s head was snapped to the side while his body remained standing upright.

Ochako sent another block of debris his way, relishing in the villain’s roar of pain as a car got lodged in his eye. The combination of attacks from the two young heroes set something off in the villain then, his aura turning murderous as he suddenly sprinted at the both of them. Ochako let out a surprised squeak and leaped away from where the villain reached for her, jumping onto the next building roof. She could feel herself getting tired but she kept up her series of distracting attacks and dodging the villain’s attempts to catch her. Izuku was doing the same thing, using his power quirk to keep out of the villain’s reach while simultaneously hitting the villain over and over again.

“YOU GUYS ARE DEAD!” The villain roared, surprising both Izuku and Ochako with his booming voice. Continuing on, the pair worked seamlessly in unison to bring the villain closer and closer to his trap.

The villain reached out and grabbed a chunk of a nearby building before hurling it at the two young heroes. Ochako felt the very corner of it hit her leg and felt something snap painfully but she managed to keep from falling off the building she was on. Her pained yelp brought Izuku over to her but she waved him off, pointing subtly to the stadium and mouthing to keep going. Izuku looked worried and hesitant but moved ahead, aiming another hit on the villain. Ochako kept moving, forcing down the bile that rose in her throat at the pain, and used her quirk to keep as much weight off of her injured leg as possible. She felt nauseous from both her quirk and her injury but she managed to stay focused, blocking out the world around her as she focused on avoiding each attack from behind her.

A loud, terrified squeal jolted Ochako out of her focus, her eyes darting down to where the villain was reaching for someone in the street. Her eyes widened as she took in the wavy blonde hair and shining blue eyes she had come to loathe in the recent days, her heart quickening as she watched the villain open his fingers, ready to grab at her small frame. Izuku had not yet noticed what the villain was doing, too preoccupied with the villain’s other hand, which was continuing to swipe at him as he flew around. Ochako knew her feelings were less than positive when it came to Melissa Shield, but she also knew she was a nice person and that those feelings only existed due to her jealousy.

“MELISSA LOOK OUT!” Ochako screamed, ignoring the pain that rocketed up her leg as she launched off of the building and right for the villain’s hand. She felt the villain’s fingers close around her body instead of Melissa’s and let out a pained scream as he clenched his digits around her body.

Raising his hand up, the villain threw Ochako from his grip, watching with unsuppressed glee as her body collided with the side of a building with a sickening crunch. She almost immediately blacked out, the distant sound of someone screaming her name just barely registering in her brain as she lost consciousness.

~~~

Ochako felt like she had just gone through a tornado. Everything hurt, her body, her arms, her legs, her face, everything throbbed. She groaned softly and would’ve laughed at how weak and pathetic it sounded if it weren’t for the pain she was in.

“Come on, open your eyes!” A voice said from somewhere above her. She had no idea who the voice belonged to but they sounded kind. She groaned again and felt her eyelids twitch as she subconsciously tried to open her eyes. She wanted to sleep for the rest of her life at the moment but she could still feel herself coming out of it regardless, little white spot starting to peek through the darkness surrounding her.

“Come on, ‘Chako!”

She finally managed to crack open her eyes but immediately shut them again at the bright light that assaulted them.

“Can someone turn off the damn sun?” Ochako muttered as she attempted once again to open her eyes.

This time, the light was less harsh as her sensitive eyes got used to it. She blinked a few times and realized that she had been taken to some sort of hospital, the white walls and sleek tile flooring making the light shine ever brighter. The smell of medical supplies stung her nose and she had to refrain from scrunching up her face in disgust.

“Oh thank god!” The same voice from earlier said, dripping with relief. Ochako looked over to the side to see Izuku sitting in a chair by her bedside, tears shining on his cheeks and his hair an absolute mess. He was clutching her hand in his, his fingers shaking against her soft skin. “Oh thank god, Ochako, I-I thought I l-lost you!”

Ochako stared at him in shock and glanced down at their intertwined hands. She was disgusted with how much her heart soared at the sight, her eyes narrowing slightly as she coached herself to behave.

Izuku glanced at her face before looking down at their joined hands. Noticing her expression, Izuku quickly released her hand and raised it to rub the back of his neck nervously.

“S-Sorry,” Izuku said, completely unaware of the cold feeling that washed over Ochako as soon as he let go of her. “I was just scared I’d lose you, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Shaking herself from her daze, Ochako waved him off with a bright smile.

“You have nothing to apologize for, absolutely nothing Deku,” She said. “I was just a little surprised is all.”

Izuku’s shoulders slumped as he relaxed, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Yeah, I can see why that would seem really unexpected.”

Ochako was just about to say something when a loud voice echoed through the other side of her hospital room door, making both Ochako and Izuku look around at the door.

“Where is she!?”

“She’s in room 136,” a deep voice they did not recognize responded.

They both heard the sound of hurried footsteps and not too long after, the door to Ochako’s room burst open, revealing a red-faced Melissa, her eyes shining with tears and her hair hanging around her shoulders in a tangled mess. Before Ochako could react, Melissa threw herself at the floaty girl, her arms linking behind her neck and burying her face in Ochako’s shoulder. Ochako’s mouth hung open in shock and it took her a moment of hesitation before she gingerly wrapped her arms around the sobbing blonde.

“Thank you, t-thank you, thank you!!!” Melissa bawled. “Y-You saved me! You didn’t have to do that but you did and you almost died because of me. I will always be in your debt, thank you so much!”

Melissa leaned back, her eyes shining as she stared at Ochako. Ochako was completely shocked but managed to give her a shaky smile.

“It was my pleasure, I couldn’t just stand there and watch you get killed, not when I was there to do something and help people. You don’t owe me anything, but I did appreciate the hug,” Ochako said softly.

Melissa let out another soft sob and encompassed her in a gentler hug this time.

“Thank you,” Melissa mumbled again before climbing off of Ochako and standing back up, using her hands to smooth out her rumpled dress.

“What happened to the villain?” Ochako asked.

“Oh! Izuku went down and picked you up after you saved me, but at that point, other heroes had shown up. He told them your plan so they continued it. The metal arches of the stadium trapped him and he was subdued and arrested by the authorities. He won’t be seeing the light of day any time soon,” Melissa said.

“Hey, Melissa? Could you give me a minute alone with ‘Chako?” Izuku asked suddenly.

Ochako snapped her gaze to Izuku and saw that he was avoiding her gaze, his eyes fixed on his girlfriend.

Melissa smiled and nodded, wiping away her tears as she sniffled.

“O-Of course, take all the time you need.”

Melissa then moved over to Izuku and cupped his ear, leaning in to whisper something to him. Even when she was injured and exhausted, Ochako felt a boiling rage at the sight of the two of them. She was so disgusted with herself as her jealous feelings came rearing up stronger than ever. Her mood only worsened as Izuku blushed a brilliant shade of red and glared half-heartedly at Melissa, who laughed in a sing-song voice. Heading out the door, Melissa threw Izuku a wink just before she shut the door with a click.

The room was silent. Izuku stood awkwardly for a while and Ochako shifted uncomfortably in her bed, the tension almost palpable in the air.

“So… what did you want to talk to me about?” Ochako asked quietly.

“Why did you do it?”

“Huh?” Ochako asked, not expecting the question.

“Why did you put yourself at the risk of death to save Melissa? I mean, I’m grateful, but why?”

“Because I’m a hero, Deku, I’m not going to bypass someone in need.”

“I know, but I feel like there is something more behind it. You didn’t deflect the attack, you took the attack, why?”

“Because I-”

“Please,” Izuku said softly. “Don’t lie to me.”

Ochako sucked in a breath at his tone. Swallowing thickly and averting her gaze, she nodded.

“Alright, sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just want to know.”

“I just… I just didn’t want you to lose someone you love,” Ochako said.

“HUH?” Izuku said, his head snapping up.

“I just… I don’t know, I haven’t seen you act this happy before, being with Melissa has definitely changed your mood for the better and I didn’t want you to lose that. You told me you were bullied a lot as a kid but now you have someone to hold you, make you laugh, kiss you, love you, and I didn’t want you to lose this new piece of your life. I know I got injured but it was worth it if it means you get to stay happy.”

Ochako then closed her eyes, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t read too deeply into her words. She loved Izuku but she did not want to ruin his current relationship by stupidly admitting her love for him. The silence seemed to stretch forever as she waited impatiently for him to respond.

“Oh my god…,” Izuku whispered.

Ochako chanced a peek at him and saw him lean back in his chair, his hand covering his eyes, a deep sigh escaping him. Ochako fought the tears back as she closed her eyes again. She had ruined everything. He knew and he hated her. He was disgusted with her. He wanted to end their friendship and never see her again. Ochako couldn’t stop the tidal wave of thoughts that flooded her brain like some sort of infectious disease, attacking her heart over and over again as she pictured every terrible scenario of the future with him.

“I’m such a damn moron!”

Izuku’s sudden exclamation made her eyes snap open and meet his gaze which she hadn’t known was intently locked on her.

“Gods, Ochako I am so sorry,” Izuku groaned. “You’ve got it all wrong and it’s all my fault.”

“What do you mean?”

Izuku met her gaze and smiled nervously.

“Melissa and I aren’t together.”

“What?” Ochako asked. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“I am not dating Melissa Shield,” Izuku said, taking a deep breath. “The only person I love is you, and I almost lost you.”

Ochako’s whole body suddenly felt as if it had been jolted by lightning. Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped slightly as his words sank in.

The only person I love is you.

The only person I love is you.

The only person I love is you.

“W-What?” Ochako whispered.

Izuku shuffled nervously in his seat and broke her gaze.

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I needed to tell you how I feel. I almost lost you, and that made me realize that if I didn’t tell you, I would regret it for the rest of my life.”

Izuku then reached forward and gently took hold of her hand. Ochako looked down at their intertwined hands and this time didn’t hate herself for the feeling of joy that bubbled up in her chest, the beast that had been tormenting her with jealousy, roaring in triumph. A few stray tears slid down her cheeks and her heart nearly burst out of her chest when Izuku leaned forward and gently wiped the tears from her face with the pad of his thumb.

“I didn’t screw this up, did I?” Izuku asked nervously.

Ochako shook her head, her bangs swaying in front of her face.

“You didn’t ruin anything, I think you did fine.”

Swallowing thickly, Izuku glanced down at her lips and then back up to her eyes, wordlessly asking for permission. Ochako nodded enthusiastically and leaned forward to meet him in the middle for the kiss she had dreamed of having for so long. Ochako sighed contentedly as his soft lips met hers and leaned into his touch when he reached up to cup her cheek. Her own arms snaked over his shoulders and linked behind his neck, running her fingers through the hair on the base of his neck.

Izuku groaned at the feeling of her fingers running through his hair, his heart thumping so wildly he idly wondered if everyone in the hospital could hear it. She felt so good against him, her taste instantly addicting and her wonderful smell making him sigh in bliss. He loved her so much, had loved her for so long, he couldn’t believe he had accidentally prohibited his chances of being with the love of his life by being around the sweet blonde so much. The pair finally broke apart, a thin line of saliva still connecting them before diminishing as Izuku moved down to rest his forehead against hers. The two were panting slightly, trying to catch their breaths from the electrifying, albeit clumsy first kiss.

“Wow…” Ochako mumbled against him causing Izuku to chuckle. Ochako melted against him as the vibrations of his laugh rumbled against her figure from where she leaned against his chest. Making sure to be mindful of her injuries, Izuku pulled her closer and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

“I love you, Ochako Uraraka,” Izuku said, making her breath hitch slightly despite already hearing those words from earlier. “Would you be my girlfriend? Please?”

“Of course!” Ochako almost squealed in response. “I love you too Izuku Midoriya.”

Izuku chuckled and pulled her tighter against him, his face snuggling closer to her soft skin. Suddenly, Ochako pulled back a bit, a concentrated look on her face.

“Wait, if you weren’t with Melissa, why were you spending so much time with her? I’m totally fine with you having female friends, I’m not that kind of girlfriend, but you were always holding hands, and whispering to each other, and going to each other’s rooms at night,” Ochako asked, pulling back a bit more to get a good look at his face. Izuku chuckled and blushed.

“Oh, that,” Izuku said, rubbing the back of his neck again. “So, I actually spent so much time with her because when she was meeting with me to talk about new gear for my quirk in battle, I accidentally let it slip that I liked you. I was super embarrassed at first but then she told me I needed to confess to you. I didn’t know how, I didn’t even know where to begin, so she said she would help me. Every day at lunch she would whisper to me things that I could say to you, which was oftentimes why I ended up a blushing mess. She would hold my hand so I would know what to do when comforting you. She also did it with her pinky up to get me used to the feeling of holding your hand without having your quirk activate on me. She even gave me these,” Izuku said holding up a small glass box he pulled from his pocket containing two clear things that looked like contact lenses.

“She made them for you, they go over your pinky fingers so you won’t float anything without having to keep your pinky up all the time. She came to my room in the evening to discuss plans for how to confess to you, but she always left before curfew. Nothing ever happened between us. She was just kind enough to help my dumb ass,” Izuku joked causing Ochako to smile. “The last thing she said to me before walking out that door a few minutes ago was ‘Now’s your chance, go get her, tiger.’” Izuku said, his blush coming back in full force to stain his cheeks.

Ochako laughed heartily at that, her heart lifting and her biased jealousy of the blonde fading away completely. She was going to have to thank Melissa another time but for now, she had other things she needed to do first. Reaching for him, Ochako sealed their lips again, relishing in the surprised squeak that came from his mouth as she pulled him as close to her as possible. When they parted again, her eyes were filled with love and light for the boy in front of her.

“I love you, ‘Zuku, thank you for everything.”

“I love you too, ‘Chako, so much.”

As much as she wanted to continue snuggling with him, Ochako was tired, the pain of her injuries dragging her stamina back down after her temporary energy high. Laying her back down, Izuku gently pressed a kiss to her forehead and tucked her in, a bright smile on his face.

“Sleep well, Ochako, I’ll always be here to protect you.”

Ochako fell asleep then, a wide smile teasing her lips, her mind filling with loving images of the two of them, her heart warming as she felt Izuku settle beside her to watch over her just like he promised.

[sunarintoes]

Dear Whoever: [Oikawa]

Synopsis: two broken strangers hold a mutual understanding of each other as they silently complete jigsaw puzzles together every Wednesday afternoon.

WC: 4K

TW: mental health issues, reader sucks at math, swearing, angst (but a lot of fluff) please do not read if you feel uncomfortable by these themes. Also: this fic has nothing to do with volleyball and is set in a clinic for mental health

Note: this is in no way meant to romanticise mental health issues, it is simply a story of a person (reader) who is struggling with their mental health and eventually gets better through the silent support of a friend she makes (Oikawa)

18/6/2020

Dear diary?

Is that how I'm supposed to start these entries off? I'm not sure. Well, uh...today I went to see a psychologist for the first time. Her name is Mary and she gave me this book, told me to try it out and write in it as much as possible. I feel awkward though. I don't think I'll use this.

Until next time,

Yn

30/6/2020

So uh… hi?

My therapist told me to write here even if I'm not sad? So if something memorable happens. I don't know honestly. This is way too awkward. Maybe I'll get used to this. Maybe not?

Cya,

Yn

18/7/2020

I stayed true to my words, I really haven't written here that much. I'm doing good and I don't think there's anything wrong with me! I'm not sure why I'm being forced to go to therapy. I feel how I feel and it doesn't matter! I know there are people worse off than me and I don’t have the right to feel sad - I have a good family, good friends, go to a nice school and I have money (or well, my parents do). So why should I feel sad? And I just have a resting bitch face. It's not called being ‘depressed’ or whatever.

Asides from all that, the only reason I haven't kicked up a huge fuss about being forced to be interrogated is the fact that every Wednesday - the day I visit my psychologist, there's always the same cute boy sitting in the same seat opposite me, not to mention the same somber expression he wears.

I'm not sure why, but I feel oddly connected to him. As if our minds are connected and in tune. I feel like I know him and he knows me. I've been reading too many books. Lol! There's no way we have that connection. Besides, I've only seen him about 4 times. Yeah, I'm definitely making this up in my sad, lonesome head.

Farewell for now,

Yn

21/7/2020

Dear diary,

I saw him again. I still don't know his name. But today he looked up at me and smiled a bit, I tried to smile back but I probably just looked angry. Not that I have a problem smiling or that I'm angry or upset. I'm just stuck on default - stuck with a heavy frown on my face.

Sincerely

Yn

29/7/2020

It's a shame, really; I've spent so long trying so hard to get better. And I do want to get better, but it’s not easy. If I'm being honest, I thought I was getting better but when the quarantine hit I began to bottle things up again. Not seeing my feelings, having them buried deep beneath - locked away in the deepest pits of my heart… well, it was soothing in a sense. That way they did not exist, they were forgotten. I didn't have to deal with them. But I forgot the most important thing of all, ‘with good comes bad’ they say, I wish I had listened - to myself and to those around me, that bottling up feelings is really the worst thing to do. Because the longer you ignore them, the stronger they grow and the darker they get. I'm an idiot; really. I was a coward, too scared of my untamed, ugly feelings to face them head on, too scared to ask for support to help me face them. So here I am now, wallowing in the depths of my despair with an increasingly depressing inner monologue, typing this out in tune with it. I'm really bashing myself up, bottling up is the most harmful way to inflict violence upon one’s self, and I'm really feeling it. My brain hurts from narrating my problems and inner thoughts - it’s working overtime as a sort of coping mechanism. But what hurts the most - what burns the most, is my ever dry throat and teary eyes. Having to swallow the ever present lump that happens to make itself comfortable right at the back of my throat seems to really suck the moisture out of my mouth, hence my dry throat. My eyes really sting, the tears come and go, and boy, let me tell you - it takes so much strength to fight them. To stop them from rolling down as they would wish to. Feeling the tears well up and then forced to go away really burns. I'm not sure why; I do know that despite not having cried even once, my eyes burn as if I havent stopped crying since last week.

As dramatic as this is, this is how I feel. Quite underwhelming considering I've been harboring such strong, hating and dangerous feelings to myself since march. Though, this is my first time letting these frustrations out. I'm glad I've finally realised the burdens I carry. There's not much I can do.

See you next time,

Yn

2/8/2020

Hi,

Didn't expect to write that much in here but shit has been going down this week. Today my math teacher kept me in to tell me that I failed my math test, she told me that it was irresponsible of me to get as low as I got. The whole time she scolded me, I felt uncomfortable and like I could cry - I was close too, the tears were forming in my eyes. She asked me if I was planning on dropping maths, she basically suggested for me to drop maths. Oh! She also told me that I had to stop drawing in my book and that it was preventing me from learning because apparently ‘if you draw that just proves to me that you have no idea what's going on and you don't want to ask questions.’ and I'll give her that, I don’t - to both things.

The seats are so close it makes me anxious, I don't want everyone around me to know that I don't understand math! And besides, I seriously do not understand it so she'd have to sit with me the entire lesson to explain everything… I think there's something wrong with me.

Until next time,

Yn

3/8/2020

Hey, me again.

It’s still slightly weird to vent into a little diary but I'm getting there I guess. I'm so frustrated! Today has been the worst fucking day that I've ever experienced. For starters, I did double math for periods one and two, and then we got our tests back and I failed :) yep 23%!

I'm just soooo happy. If I'm being honest I don't care anymore. Maths is hard and no matter how much I study I fail at it. There's no point in me even trying now. I give up. What's worse is we had a substitute teacher and when she handed out the papers she gave my paper to some other girl in the class - who then of course, proceeded to have a fit about how bad the test is and that the tests were definitely mixed up. Well, they were but did she really have to explain to the whole class about how bad the score is? It was embarrassing to have to put my hand up and get the paper - my test, handed to me. It felt like everyone’s eyes were burning holes into my body. Right then and there I had a panic attack - I had already felt on edge since yesterday but the test conforming results plus the fact that everyone knew how badly I scored tipped me over the edge. I felt the tears well up but I pushed them back - refusing to show everyone how weak and pathetic I am.

I excused myself to the bathroom and cried a little before texting my friends and telling them that I was about to have a meltdown. Unfortunately they weren't online and didn't respond, I had to go back to class anyway.

When the break came, I left to go back to the bathroom - my tears were still clouding my vision and I couldn't get rid of them. I think I may be superstitious but while I was walking I was stuck behind the girls who saw my test - they were talking about their tests. I didn't really care but then one of them said ‘how much do you need to pass?’ and the others just laughed, so she continued and said ‘seriously! Is 24 percent a pass?’ this made the other girls laugh even harder, it felt like a slap to the face. Like they were indirectly mocking me. The same girl then said ‘surely 25 percent’ which again, was met with laughter.

It really hurt. Even if I was just overreacting. Surely not. They had to be talking about me. Why else would they talk about low test grades when they are literally on to top of the class.

I just want to disappear.

Sincerely,

Yn

8/8/2020

I dropped my Ipad today - twice if I may add. I cried when it hit the floor, the protective screen shattering into small, sharp pieces. The ‘up’ volume button is stuck and can no longer be used, neither can the ‘on/off’ button. Guess I can only use the home button to turn it on and wait for it to go to sleep if I don't want to use it. I'm kinda fed up with life. I want to be taken away. I don't care how far I go. I just want to leave.

Not soKindly,

Yn

14/8/2020

Dear Diary,

Today has been alright, I made mini cookies which helped put a smile on my face. Ever since the first time I exploded in this diary, I've felt a humongous weight lift off of my shoulders. Picture this, a single person holding up 50 tonnes of bricks and then telling themself and everyone around them ‘I’m fine! I can do this! I don't need help!’ but then one day, the person feels even more bricks pile up which becomes overloaded and they can't keep it up anymore. So they begin to crumble under all the pressure and the weight until they just explode! After their explosion a new person appears out of nowhere and helps them hold the stack of bricks. It is not that lighter, but it's the extra support - the extra pair of hands helping keep the first person stand straight, that really means something. I'm not sure if that makes sense but it’s how I can describe how I feel. Still feels heavy in my chest, but this time it just feels a bit lighter - like the world isn't entirely against me.

From,

Yn

30/8/2020

Dear Diary

When I went to the clinic earlier this week, something unexpected happened. The cute boy - who i like to call my ‘Therapy Buddy’ pointed over to the small table where a bunch of unfinished puzzles lay. I was confused at first but still walked over there. We sat down opposite each other and offered small smiles to one another. And without saying anything we finished off the jigsaw puzzles until we had to part ways.

For the first time in a while, I felt calm - as if my nerves were soothed. Maybe I should upgrade his name to ‘Miracle Buddy’ because I am 100% sure the reason I felt at peace was his doing - his presence.

Until next time,

Yn

7/9/2020

Dear Diary,

Therapy Buddy and I completed the jigsaw puzzles again today; no words were exchanged. I think he’s cute. I don't have a crush on him. I literally don't know him. I just like being in his presence. And besides, we've only done this twice. Who's to say we'll do it next week?

Cya,

Yn

15/9/2020

Whats up bitch Diary

Haha. Therapy Buddy is definitely smart. He was so quick to complete a 200 piece puzzle! I barely helped… he's cute when he concentrates as well. Oh yeah, we did end up doing them today. I noticed he also carries a diary with him. Maybe he writes in it like I do? Who knows. I hope he's written about me… I mean he probably hasn't but who knows, am I right?

Sincerely

Yn

21/9/2020

Hey Diary,

I'm really struggling going to school, I find it hard to concentrate in math class. Actually yeah, I like going to school but it's when I step into the math class, when I go in I feel my chest tighten and my throat dry. I have spoken with my parents a lot. They said I can drop maths if I want to. I'm still not sure what I want to do in the future but I have a faint idea: a psychologist or an artist. I need maths for psychology I think. I'm not sure. I think I'll just stick with it and hope next year goes better.

From,

Yn

29/9/2020

I look forward to going to the clinic. It no longer feels like an interrogation now that I walk in with an open mind. I'm still not getting much better with maths so I asked to be dropped down a level and now that i'm in a new classroom, a new environment, i feel less nervous. Maybe i’ll be able to get at least something done.

Kindly,

Yn

12/10/2020

This is a disaster, the other week when Therapy Buddy and I were sitting together - in comfortable silence might I add, we mixed our diaries! I can't believe this. I didn't realise until I got home! I had no ways of contacting him either. I hope he didn't read through it. If he did, I'm in trouble, I'm not doing good. I feel sick in my stomach and my throat is constricting. Ok I'm going to go, I'm having a panic attack just remembering.

Until next time

Yn

13/10/2020

Hey Diary!

In the midst of panic yesterday, I missed an important detail. Therapy Buddy left his name and phone number in my book. He must have opened up to write in it only to realise it wasn't his book. I hope. I'm a bit scared to text him. He has a pretty name - Oikawa Toru.

If I'm going to be honest, I read a little of his diary! I couldn't help it, I just wanted to write my feelings but I opened up on his latest entry, I read it and I shouldn't have. I feel a bit guilty but now, more than ever, I feel closer to him. He's feeling a similar way to me.

Yeah, I think I'll go for it. I think I'll text him.

Sincerely,

Yn

20/10/2020

What's up Diary!?

I'm glad I texted Toru! Since then we've been texting non stop but we've made a promise - to not speak to each other in person until we’re both doing better. That's fine with me. I just know my voice would betray me if I decided to chat him up in person. I've found a sense of comfort with Toru, he's no longer just my Therapy Buddy (although that's his contact name), he's now my friend who I can seek comfort in, and he seeks comfort in me too. I hate to say it, but I think I may have a small crush on him. This is a pain in the ass, I really hope I don't. He's just my friend. He's just my friend. He's just my friend. He's just my friend. But he’s really cute

Kind regards,

Yn

25/10/2020

Hey diary,

I'm feeling a lot mentally better, I wish I had realised sooner that going to therapy was helpful. Having someone who just listens to you and doesn't give their input unless you want it is soothing. I'm not as anxious to go to math class, of course I'm still trying but I've adopted the mindset: what's done is done, all I can do is look forward.

I have good news about Toru. Today he said to me ‘when I’m ready I want to love you and for you to love me.’ I know I don’t love him but I’m not an idiot, I know I have some more-than-friends feelings towards him.

From,

Yn

27/11/2020

Dear Diary,

Things have been really looking up for me. Im feeling a lot happier and the weight in my chest is a lot lighter. I almost feel free. I've been thinking of career paths a lot lately. I think I want to be a psychologist. If it weren't for Mary, who knows where I would be now. Thanks to her I've been able to feel better and do better. I want to be like her. I want to be able to help people through their problems - whether it be a minor inconvenience or a major one, because I know how it feels. I understand what it feels like to have the whole world against you - as if every force and person in the universe were working unanimously together to bring me down, ‘but I survived and so can you.’ That's what I will tell them. And also ‘We can get through this together,’ and let's not forget ‘this will be challenging so we both have to put in 100 percent to getting better!’

Sincerely

Yn

12/12/2020

Hey diary,

I am full of joy.

Today Toru texted me and asked me if i wanted to spend New Years Eve with him! I said yes and were going to go to the park to have a picnic and watch the fireworks! I'm so excited. I hope he is too! I just cannot wait.

Oh yeah! I can't believe i haven't written it in until now! I've just been so happy and excited and wow but the two of us went out to a cafe and he bought me a drink - we still haven't exchanged words and spent the whole time sitting next together while texting.

In that moment I felt so happy, I knew that this is the guy I want to be with. I have a crush on him and wow... I it feels good to get that off my chest and out into the open,,, I wonder if he’s ready? It doesn’t matter, I’ll wait as long as I have to because Toru is special and I don’t want to lose him.

It is New Years Eve and I have made plans to catch up with Toru, he's going to pick me up at my house and together we’ll walk to the nature park where we’ll spend the night having a picnic and being in each other’s presence. In my small bag I have snacks and drinks packed, along with some board games - why not? After all, I'm planning on confessing to him tonight and I thought doing it while engaging in one of the things that brought us together was the way to go.

There is a timid knock on the door and I quickly run to answer it.

As soon as I open the door I’m met with a cardboard poster with the words ‘Happy New Years Eve, Yn!!’ written in big, large letters. I smile as I look at it, Toru definitely was not an artistic person but the thought was sweet and made my heart swell. I pull out my phone and text him a thank you before receiving one back from him; ‘you look extra beautiful… Yn.’

I read the text a few times before my brain finally gets the message, a large smile creeps up onto my face and I hear him try to stifle a laugh.

I turn away from Toru and yell out ‘bye bye! I'll see you tonight!!’

When I turn back I see Toru reaching out his hand; as if he were asking me to hold it.

Toru’s hand is pretty, our fingers are linked together and they rest comfortably. Nothing feels forced, it all feels natural. I look up at him and wonder if he feels the same, as if he knew what I was thinking when he squeezes my hand. Yeah, we definitely have some strange connection.

We spend the whole journey to the park texting, and as much as I love texting him and hearing him quietly chuckle during conversations it no longer feels like enough. I want more. As greedy and selfish as that sounds. I know I said I would wait for him - as long as it would take, but I'm getting impatient. Tonight i'm going to speak to him… I hope he does as well.

The park is beautiful, the flowers are trees surrounding the border and trap out the outside world. It almost feels like I'm in a magical fairy realm - or something like that.

We found a spot near a garden bed and I noticed the arrangement of flowers fairly quickly. I find it funny, the flowers almost represent everything i feel for Toru - maybe our meeting was indeed, fate and maybe this was fate telling me to confess.

I pull out a 5000 piece jigsaw and text ‘wanna play?’ which Toru of course agrees.

I have had fun, all night we’ve spent playing various games and eating snacks. We still haven't spoken and that's getting me down. I can't help the intrusive thoughts - ‘does he not like me?’ ‘he's not ready’ ‘you're just a friend.’ I try to push them out of my head but before I crumble I find a new thought: ‘maybe he's just too shy to make the first move.’

That is, it was up to me and it was the perfect time to confess - ten minutes until the new year. I quickly got up and made an impromptu bouquet of the flowers that resided next to us.

Shaking, I turned towards him. “Hey… i’m Ln Yn and this is for you…” I handed him the bouquet and tried my best to ignore the look on his face - I couldn't tell if it was shock out of happiness or anger, “you asked to know the meanings right?” I move closer to him and point out a flower, “well, see that flower? It's a light purple lilac that resembles young love… and this one here, it's called a belledonne which means silence, this one’s a begonia - representing dark thoughts, oh and this one! It's a pink camellia which symbolises longing - particularly longing for a romantic relationship with the receiver, and this daisy right here means innocence and hope. And lastly, the hibiscus represents delicate beauty.’ I swallowed a lump in my throat as I looked up at him, I didn't realise how close I got to him - our lips were mere centimeters away.

‘Hey… I'm Oikawa Toru and I like you too. Why don't we give a relationship a try?’

I smile. I smile so large I feel my cheeks hurt. This, this is the happiest i've ever been. ‘I’d like that.’ Toru smiles with me, he’s beautiful, even with the dak thoughts plaguing his mind.

‘I like your voice’ we say to each other before laughing.

‘Wow.. we really said that at the same time huh?’ he laughs. Instead of responding I grab a hold of his hand once more and squeeze it. ‘It’s kinda annoying, I wanted to confess first…’

‘Not my fault. Bet it wouldn't have been as romantic as what I did.’

‘So telling me the meanings of flowers is romantic?’

I gasp as he doubles over in laughter and without realising we fell into an easy conversation - much like one we would have over text. Everything with Toru felt natural.

The fireworks go off signalling the beginning of the new year, Toru leans in closer and his eyes don't leave mine.

‘Hey,’ he says softly, ‘can I kiss you?’ I gulp and nod, within seconds his lips were delicately pressed against mine, they were soft and smooth - even if they were slightly chapped. They felt natural against my lips. The kiss was short and sweet. Deciding that it wasn't enough to satisfy me, I went back in after we pulled apart and we both smiled into the kiss - our lips passionately moving together, like two jigsaw pieces that were made for each other.

When we pull back, Toru drags me into his chest and says, ‘I'm ready to love you.’

Taglist: @ladyrenart

Hushudhidwhuwihahuaf ïm im sorry this is horrible and I definitely don’t plan on using this style of writing anytime soon! I promise the rest of the series will be written nicely !

[vintagedaydreams]

True Love Never Runs Smoothly Part 4 (Marcus)

@littlebabybatthings​ @amwolowicz​ @waxingmoonstone​

 Here is Part Four for the Marcus story arc! I do sincerely apologize for the delay.

The usual warnings apply - mention of suicide, some cussing, etc.

Enjoy!!

(The Carlisle version of Part Four will be up once it’s complete!)

You finally emerged from your room, your grumbling stomach pushing you to venture out in search of food.

You glanced around warily, still shaken by your dream. Damn brain. As if this wasn’t a bad enough situation – now you were dreaming loving, comforting dreams about who knows who.

Surely you didn’t deserve any of this, right? It wasn’t like you were a horrible person or anything!

“(Y/N),” a voice suddenly greeted from behind you and you yelped, spinning around.

Bella and Edward stood in the corridor, Bella looking at your worriedly, Edward half amused.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat, “hey guys.”

“(Y/N),” Bella said softly. “Are…are you okay?”

You grimaced, thinking back to the dream and how absolutely done you were with this whole situation.

“I’m okay…enough,” you finally sighed.

“How are you feeling?” she pressed, her and Edward both moving closer to you.

Hurt, confused, nervous, anxious, depressed, angry, lonely—“Hungry,” you finally muttered.

Bella opened her mouth to say something, but Edward cut in with, “Come with us. I’m taking Bella to the kitchens to get her something to eat as well.”

Your mind flashed back to the confrontation with Carlisle last time you tried to get food from there and Edward added quietly, “No one will be there, (Y/N). Just the three of us.”

You nodded, sweeping out a hand halfheartedly. “Lead the way, tour guide.”

Edward gave a small smile and you all started down the castle corridor. The doors to a room you assumed was the kitchen had just come into view when Edward suddenly spoke up, “Bella and I are not Bond Mates.”

You jerked your head over to look at the two of them, thrown by the sudden conversation starter. “What?”

“It’s true,” Bella said with a small smile, picking up the conversation after a glance at Edward. “Marcus has the ability to see relationship bonds and can tell what kind they are. Not every vampire has a Bond Mate – hence why they’re so sacred. But those that don’t are still capable of finding love. Very deep, strong love.”

“Like you and Edward,” you said softly.

“Yes. Like me and Edward.”

“When did you become an expert in vampire bonds, then?” you asked after a moment as you all ducked into the kitchen.

“She’s been asking a lot of questions and gathering intel since we’ve both decided to disown my family until they get their act together,” Edward answered smoothly before Bella could.

A deafening silence rang out through the kitchen.

“You…what?” you finally managed to get your mouth to work.

“Well, we were going to tell you with a little more finesse,” Bella replied, “but this works, I guess. I’m not sure what Carlisle is playing at, but everyone in the family has treated you horribly. And that’s not right. Rosalie wasn’t even this horrible to me when Edward started up with me and he has less of an excuse for falling for a human.

I mean, with Edward and I not being Bond Mates, I can kind of understand that Carlisle and Esme love each other, okay sure. But Carlisle lived with the Volturi for decades. I find it hard to believe that he not once was told he had a Bond Mate, especially with how sacred they are in the Vampire world. And even if he did love only Esme, and would only love Esme no matter what, that does not excuse the way that he’s been treating you. I’ve lost a lot of respect for the ‘human loving’ vampire that he claims to be. He’s one of the worst of the lot, especially since the family takes their cues from him. If he would just man up and get to know you, or at least tell them to quit being complete and utter assholes, he might have a smidgen of my respect still.”

You were wide eyed by the end of Bella’s rant. You looked from her somewhat red faced and breathless form to where Edward had quietly started to get breakfast items gathered on the counter.

“She’s not wrong,” the bronze haired vampire said with a gentle look to you. You felt your eyes instantly fill with tears and mentally cursed at him. So much for no more tears. You should have been dehydrated by now.

“I don’t…I mean why…How are…”

“(Y/N),” Bella said firmly, taking charge once again and leading you over to sit at the table in the middle of the room. “You are my friend. You helped me so much when Edward left. You are more important to me than a family who can so easily turn on someone who should be one of their own. Quit questioning it. Edward and I are here for you. And we always will be. Besides,” she said with a wicked grin, “I have some ideas for how we can get them back. And a few of them include Marcus.”

You choked on your next breath and Edward lightly scolded Bella from where he was cooking on stove.

Bella took it all in stride, waiting until Edward was finished before saying, “Half of these were your ideas, Edward. Besides, you were the one who dropped the ‘we’ve disowned the family’ bombshell suddenly. Don’t act all coy now.”

You looked back and forth from Edward to Bella as they bantered back and forth, feeling yourself settle and a small smile take over your face.

At least this was still the same.

Edward served both you and Bella breakfast and thankfully, he steered the conversation to random things – what the castle looked like, the gardens, how he and Bella were actually being accepted wholeheartedly into the Volturi, the library, the shops and stores that he and Bella had explored after sunset – instead of anything to do with Carlisle and family.

And you were so grateful, you couldn’t even put it into words. So instead you just sent warm fuzzy thoughts to the mind reader, hoping he’d get the picture.

The soft look he gave you said that he did.

It wasn’t until you three were walking down the corridor from the kitchen that Bella brought up Marcus.

Your somewhat horrified look at her question, “So what do you think of Marcus?”, made her laugh lightly.

“The Queens think you would be a perfect match,” the brunette continued with a sly smile and you choked on air.

“What?” You had thought that Athenodora had been just trying to prove a point, not actually being serious!

Bella cast a glance at Edward who sighed and nodded. “It is true, (Y/N),” he said with a slight smile. “Queen Athenodora did brush up against me and her thoughts were all centered on finding happiness for Marcus. And you featured prominently in all of them.”

You gaped at Edward, mind running a mile a minute. Didn’t you have enough on your plate with Carlisle without trying to think about the…attentions of any other vampire? And if you weren’t good enough for your Bond Mate for crying out loud, the most sacred and revered bond in the entire vampire world, what made any of them think you were good enough for one of the Kings?

A low growl broke through your thoughts and you had a very brief flashback of that night in the throne room, before Edward was speaking to you.

“You are more than enough, (Y/N). My sire is an idiot.”

“Eddie,” you started lowly, shocked that he had called Carlisle his sire and not his father, but Edward continued on as if you hadn’t spoken at all.

“Bella and I have talked about this a lot, (Y/N). She is right. We are not Bond Mates, but love each other very much. Carlisle may love Esme and may not want another, but he could have – should have – handled it better. Much better. The fact this his Bond Mate, that you, were contemplating suicide and had felt so abused and cut off from the family that was supposed to at least treat you with respect due a Bond Mate that you felt suicide your only option… It is unforgivable. Whatever excuses he may have, it does not excuse his treatment of you. I am only sorry that I did not do something about it sooner than now.”

Your eyes filled with tears once again, but you valiantly held them back. Nope. No more crying. Though you were touched by both Edward and Bella’s words. It was comforting to know that you weren’t in this alone. Not anymore.

“Thank you,” you managed to croak, hoping again that your warm fuzzy thoughts could adequately express what your vocal cords could not at the moment.

“Anytime, (Y/N),” Edward said softly and Bella came around to wrap you in a gentle hug.

“We’ll always be there for you, (Y/N),” she murmured before pulling away and giving a small smile.

“Now! Enough of this or I’ll start crying too. Back to the Plan – so how do you feel about a late lunch in the garden today?”

You looked at Bella quizzically. “I’m sorry?” You were sure that she was going to ask again about your thoughts on Marcus. Not on tea time in the garden.

“Yeah, I think it would do you some good to be out in the fresh air. No other Cullens – or Hales – will be around, (Y/N), promise.”

You looked from Bella to Edward and back again before giving a hesitant nod. Maybe some time outside your rooms would be good for you.

“Okay. It does sound nice. What time?”

“Oh, later in the day. Sometime after 2pm probably. But I thought we could go exploring a bit until then. The castle really is beautiful. And I think you’d enjoy the library. There’s even a piano in there.”

You gave a small but genuine smile. You never learned piano yourself, but absolutely loved listening to it.

“I’ll make sure you have some music to listen to,” Edward said with a slight smile.

You reached out and wrapped your arms around Edward, feeling yourself settle a bit when cold arms wrapped around you in return. After the tremulous past few weeks, it was nice to feel grounded again.

“Come on,” Edward said after a few moments, “the library’s this way.” --

The library was absolutely stunning. High vaulted ceilings, ridiculously tall bookshelves practically bursting with books, comfortable looking chairs and couches scattered around and along the far wall, perpendicular to the fire place, a stunning piano, framed by large glorious windows.

“I may never leave this place,” you murmured in awe, wandering slowly from bookcase to bookcase and reverently touching every other spine.

A low chuckle sounded behind you and you absently flipped Edward off, tilting your head sideways to read the spine of the book in front of you.

An incredulous laugh escaped your lips.

“Seriously? They have the book Dracula?”

“Caius picked that up on one of his travels,” came a cultured voice from behind you and you spun to see Aro in the doorway. He gave a courteous nod to both Edward and Bella before moving across the room to stand next to you. “He thought it would be a good collector’s item. All things considered.”

You gave a somewhat delicate snort. “Makes sense. I mean…all things considered.”

Aro chuckled lowly offering you a hand and gesturing to the settee behind you. “Come, have a seat. Perhaps Edward may play something while we catch up? It has been awhile since we last spoke.”

You hesitated for a moment, thinking of all the quips and remarks about you and Marcus. What would Aro think when he saw them? Marcus was his brother, his fellow king, one of the few vampires who could claim to know Aro. And now, here you were, unfit for your Bond Mate, but being thought of to pair with the soft-spoken King?

Edward gave a soft growl as he passed you and Aro on his way to the piano. You blushed lightly at the questioning look Aro sent you before you bit the bullet and placed your hand in his.

Cold fingers wrapped gently around your own and after a moment, Aro gave a soft sound, mouth turned down into a displeased frown.

You winced. You knew it. Of course, a vampire thousands of years old and a ruler of an entire race would not be a good match for you. Or rather, you wouldn’t be a good match for him.

“I had rather thought we talked of this already, (Y/N),” Aro said suddenly as he gently steered you towards the couch, opposite the chair Bella was occupying.

You looked over at Aro questioningly and he gave you a measured look. “I do believe we spoke about your worth already and the grave misstep of Carlisle and his family. I will have none of these downtrodden thoughts.”

You blushed again, even redder than before, not meeting either Aro’s or Bella’s eyes.

A soft tune started on the piano and you sent Edward a mental thank you once again.

“My sister and my wife have been telling me about the conversation they had with you,” Aro began quietly after a moment and you startled to feel your hand still wrapped gently in his own. Your eyes shot up to Bella as she got up and moved over to stand by Edward on the other side of the room at the piano thoughtfully giving you and Aro some privacy. Well, from her ears. Edward could still hear every word, though he was pretending he couldn’t.

A light tug on your hand turned your attention to the vampire leader seated next to you and you realized what he’d just said.

The conversation the Queens had with you. In your room. About Marcus and his state of happiness.

Oh dear.

“I must admit, the idea has merit,” Aro continued and your eyes shot to his in shock. Even Sulpicia, Aro’s wife wasn’t thrilled about the idea when Athenodora brought it up in your room. In fact, Athenodora had to reassure her that no one, especially the kings, could hear anything they said about it.

But now it had merit?

“My brother has been alone for a very long time, (Y/N).” Cold fingers finally released yours with a final pat. “We have all watched him slowly fade century by century. It is neither something that we want for him, nor something that he wants for himself. But I must admit, we have all been at somewhat of a loss. Oh, he’s tried to court a few women over the centuries, but no one ever really piqued his interest or stood up to our rigorous standards. Until you.”

You knew you were gaping unattractively at Aro. You knew it.

You just couldn’t help it.

“I…what?” you finally managed. They hadn’t even known you for more than a few days; how would they know that you would be good for anyone, let alone a vampire that had been alone for centuries? And why would Marcus think you were interesting? You’d literally done nothing but cry and cuss out vampires since you got here.

“Why me?” you finally asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Why not you?” Aro countered and you threw him an exasperated look. Which he countered with a raised brow. “I truly am at a loss for your low opinion of yourself – and I have seen your memories. You are a remarkable woman, (Y/N). I do wish you would believe those of us that are around you and can see you clearly. But I know Marcus and he’ll enjoy the challenge of restoring your self worth where it belongs.”

Before you could utter anything, Bella suddenly called from the other side of the room, “We were planning on a picnic in the garden later.”

“How splendid!” Aro grinned, turning half way on the couch to look behind him at Bella and Edward at the piano. “It should be fine weather this afternoon. Well! I shall leave you three here to peruse the books. Please feel free to read anything here; there is quite the selection. (Y/N), might I suggest the bookshelf nearest the fireplace to the left? I think you may enjoy a few of those titles there the most.”

Standing gracefully, Aro gave a regal bow before exiting and leaving you staring after him. Somewhat concerned with exactly what books Aro thought to point out to you, you headed to the suggested bookshelf and glanced at the titles.

A large grin broke over your face at the sight of your favorite genre and you happily picked a book before heading back to the couch.

Reading would definitely take your mind off of everything. With a contented sigh, you flopped onto the incredibly comfortable couch and immersed yourself in the pages, lulled by the still playing piano.

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

12 Angry Men: A Product of the Times

Despite what shows like Leave it to Beaver and Father Knows Best would have you believe, the 1950s in America were not a ‘simpler’ time.

The soldiers came home from World War II, the economy expanded, and the nation’s population grew and thrived, all seeming like absolute wins in our nation’s history.  The suburbs grew, and the ideal nuclear families began popping up.  Everyone dressed to the nines, the War was over, and so was the Depression that preceded it.  America was prosperous again.

At the same time, the Korean War began.  McCarthyism kicked off a terrified hysteria about the invasion of Communism.  Sputnik was launched, the Cold War was off and running, and Americans lived in fear behind their white picket fences.  Men went back to work, women went back to the home.  Rock and roll was born, and the young people, now called teenagers, started rebelling against the conformity of their parents.  Racial tensions began rising.  Oppressed people across America began looking to the future for change.

This was the world when 12 Angry Men made its debut in theaters.

Why am I telling you all of this?

Simple.

In order to truly understand and analyze any work of fiction, we must first contextualize it.  To do that, we have to know what the culture was like at the time.

Why?

As I’ve mentioned many times on this blog, no piece of media is an island.  Everything we watch, read, or listen to is a direct product of the culture it was created in.  The creators were influenced by things around them, be they other pieces of media or simply events and attitudes of the time, and as a result, the film, television show, or book is a reflection of the culture, be it critical of it or embracing of it.

Such is the case with 12 Angry Men.

The premise of a jury made up entirely of middle-to-late aged, middle-class white men passing a decision on a Puerto Rican boy from the slums seems, by its very nature, firmly set in the era of the 1950s.  The attitudes of multiple jurors seems to emphasize this fact with plenty of prejudice against the defendant for his background, ethnic and otherwise, his age, and even his relationship with his father.  12 Angry Men is definitely a film that is discernibly made in an era that is behind us.  To some, that would be enough to seal its doom with the ultimate stamp of disapproval any ‘old’ movie can get: the verdict of ‘Dated’.

As those of us who indulge in older films are more than aware of, sometimes, older movies just don’t hold up quite so well.  When that happens, oftentimes the film is referred to as ‘dated’.  Oftentimes, the things that people consider ‘outdated’ are things that can’t be helped: slang, clothing, hairstyles, special effects, technology, or even styles of storytelling that were popular at the time of the film’s release.

Therein lies the problem.

By that logic, that definition of the term dated, every single piece of media ever made is ‘dated’ and therefore, nothing is ‘timeless’.  This is bad news for every creator of art who desires to make something that will outlast them.  If everything is connected to the culture, the times it was created in, then nothing is worth watching outside of the era it was created in.  This would lead to many classic films, television shows, and books becoming long-forgotten.  Even now, there are many who don’t like watching things made before the date of their birth, claiming they are ‘cringey’ and ‘dated’.

Again, by that definition, they’re right.

Here, though, we have a different definition.

The term ‘dated’, the idea of being directly connected to the era and culture of a piece of media’s creation, is easy to forgive when the ‘datedness’ extends to a mullet, a mixtape, or a money-shot that looks a little cheesy by modern standards.  However, that form of dated is not the problem.

‘Dated’ is really only used in a negative context when the movie or show it is describing is not as enjoyable to modern audiences as it was when it was released, suggesting that the passage of time has done more to damage the film than credit it.  This definition of the term ‘dated’ exonerates films that have not lost the enjoyability of their core story in the years that have followed.

Being ‘dated’ is far more damaging when it is attached to outdated ideas.  It is there that we have our problem.

An outdated idea can damage a film ten times more than any pop-culture reference therein.  These are the films based around inherently problematic elements, that never address (and in some cases seem to promote) ideas that we now know are problems.  It is this definition of ‘dated’ that we need to apply in order to tell how well 12 Angry Men has held up.

Looking past the clothes and the hair is the glaring problem of the all-white, all-male jury.  Definitely an effective reminder that this film was made in the 1950s, for sure, but that could be as much a reminder of the times as it was an effect of them, for as the film tells us, there’s quite a lot of bigotry going on in 1950s America.

The only character in the film who is not explicitly Caucasian is the unnamed defendant, the Puerto Rican boy from the slums.  It is his fate in the hands of the twelve men, and unfortunately, to some, his fate doesn’t seem to matter.  Juror #10 notably holds the opinion that he is one of ‘them’, displaying superiority and prejudice that cannot be overlooked as ‘harmless’.  During his rant on the subject at the end, he is ignored, abandoned, shut down by his fellow jurors, who are more fair-minded.  As Juror #9 (Curiously, the oldest of the bunch) points out early in the film:

“Only an ignorant man can believe that…Do you think you were born with a monopoly on the truth?”

An important idea in this film is that of open-mindedness, of fairness to our fellow men.  The movie stands as a jarring mirror to some of the bigoted ideas held by many in the 1950s, in more ways than one.  While the film definitely has a biting opinion of those who look down on people from other backgrounds (ethnic or otherwise), there’s also an interesting look at the youth of the 1950s in the film.

The defendant is a young man, basically a boy, accused of killing his father after a fight.  In the first age of teenage rebellion, Juror #3 speaks the words of parents who feel wronged by their children, while simultaneously carrying the guilt of spurning them to rebellion in the first place.  The idea of making your sons into ‘men’ at age nine is treated as being a problem, driving a wedge between both father and son, a possibly irreparable one.

These themes alone would seem to date the film right away, with the heavy emphasis on ideas that were prevalent at the time, if it weren’t for the context with which the ideas are viewed.

Rather than glorify either idea, or present them as being acceptable in the culture, both of these elements are viewed critically by the narrative and the characters within it.  The film, while not exonerating the rebellion of the children, acknowledges the part that parents play in it, and outright views racial prejudice with disdain.  Not only was this a demonstration of progressive thinking, it’s also still relevant today.

In fact, there isn’t a whole lot about this movie that isn’t relevant today.  The idea of ensuring that our justice system works is one that will likely never go out of style, and the critical mirror the film holds up to some of the ideas of 1957 holds up very well in an era where some haven’t moved too far beyond the same thinking.  The film, and the ideas it was based around, still resonate with audiences who see it today, managing to leave an impression over sixty years since it’s original release.

On the other hand, there is a total lack of female characters entirely, (hence the title), leading to some remakes to add a female judge (to keep the name) or change it to 12 Angry Jurors or in some cases, 12 Angry Men and Women (In other cases, the title has been changed to 12 Angry Women.)  This would seem to be the response directed at the one issue the film never addresses, that is, the lack of female representation.  If anything, the lack of it makes the critical reflection all the sharper, the world of the 1950s being dominated by men in general.  The absence of female presence is telling, leaving the twelve men as the focus, all with ideas that (for the most part) are familiar with one another, if not shared by each other.

In short?

12 Angry Men loses some of its enjoyability only if one has no concept of our society’s history and current climate.  It was relevant in 1957, and it remains relevant today, in a culture not so far removed as we might think.  As we continue to progress, 12 Angry Men will stand forever as a landmark and a reminder, no less moving now than it was over sixty years ago.

Thanks so much for reading!  Remember the ask box is always open if you have any suggestions, questions, comments, or just want to say hi, and I hope to see you in the next article.

[derangedhyena-zoids]

So now that I have a chance to write this in an orderly manner:

In my land of things, Hiltz is a Complete Monster. 

I only work with two* Complete Monsters in any of my stories, and the other one is technically abandoned, so. I don't have a lot of real estate for the explorations that come with these kinds of characters just because they tend to fucking bend space around them and make the whole story darker just because they're in it. Not every story I have is down for this, nor am I. so.

(*there is another character in KB  that is kind of this, but [it's complicated, and] their innate lack of emotional depth makes them not really... the same. being indifferent to abuse vs being oblivious to it is a big divider imo)

Despite the backstory comic I just made, I'm not trying make him sympathetic. That piece is just a tiny, specific, show-relevant slice of backstory that I've had in-mind for a LONG while because it was sorely missing. It exists just as much to "explain" him as it does point out that there were steep ethical issues involved with humans obliviously dredging up the past. Plus plants a flag in what relevance I think Hiltz actually had to the death of Raven's parents. I've always wanted someone to make something for that span of time and to my knowledge no one has. So.

My Hiltz backstory IN ZOIDIAN TIMES would very quickly paint him in a different light, and that's more-or-less why he essentially does a backflip and accelerates past the Moral Event Horizon fast in my canon because he was already there, just wasn't whole and hale enough to recall it. Also keep in mind that he's narrating the backstory piece (by necessity) so of course he's presented well.

He was part of a group that was already on an outright genocidal crusade against other Zoidians (and Zoids, and Organoids) who weren't "strong" enough and therefore deserved to die for the betterment of the species. That group got heavily into the power of the primal (you know, the four F's... except for them it was more like 3) because of the viciously positive feedback loop it set up. Their unyielding brutality was incompatible with the... you know, DECENT society other groups were trying to maintain. Hence big war, big apocalypse.

The events that led up to the Death Saurer/Death Scorpion took a long, excruciating time, over which the group Hiltz was part of chewed through the fabric of society like a cancer. Part of what made things really bad was the creeping conversion to the "winning" side's way of thinking. The assault on their society was both outright (active attacks on peaceful settlements) and insidious (attempts to convert, planting people in key positions/institutions, etc).

Once Hiltz got his wits about him in CC-times and realized what had happened, he felt obligated to do something to erase humanity - which was many times worse than even the most "inferior" Zoidian. The issues being, during his early time among humans he lost a fair amount of his mental stability because they did not treat him well (read: vivisected, and unintentionally they basically starved him), and he was kept in isolation. This damage was compounded by the lack of having Ambient around - Zoidians don't do well without their Organoids, and especially in that group they'd become over-reliant on them.  

So... Hiltz started out pretty penalized on the sanity front. (The only reason he just didn't up and die was because he was so strong-willed)

Then he realized the futility of his entire, prior belief system, life and efforts up to that point given that Zoidians were basically a dead race (hence his wide nihilistic streak) ... then let himself be tempted by One... then was basically, inadvertently mentally stabbed to death by Ambient carrying around the shard of One... then (in his mind) was betrayed by Ryss. And, you know, the whole Death Stinger power trip thing didn't help. There was very little good about him to begin with, but by GF there just Wasn't Any. He was completely ax-crazy.

But let me back up a little bit. 

Let's consider that tetchy canon timeline.

Per the math, Ryss being found in the Imperial village with Nicholai happened 3 years prior to when Hiltz retrieved Ambient & Raven's parents were killed. The Republican army attacked that village and took young Ryss, but given that Prozen had all the information about that village and its associated events restricted/classified, I'm going to make a relatively safe assumption that he had Imperial forces shitkick the Republican ones shortly thereafter and they took possession of Ryss.  

Ryss wasn't treated as badly as Hiltz was, but she wasn't treated especially well either. She had Specula so fared much better overall, but... she had Specula and people kept trying to mess with/take Specula away and THAT wasn't great. However, the Imperial Army - aggressively subverting expectations - was far more conservative in their Zoidian research so never did anything too drastic. Ryss was also incredibly hostile because she was afraid. She barely knew the language, and the range of traumatizing human behaviors she’d seen didn't help much.

Hiltz lived in that small colony during this timeframe, oblivious. Several years later though, after recovering his memory, he sought out the opposing faction, because fuck the Republicans and he needed resources to do anything. He figured he could talk, teleport, and brute force his way around - and he was right, and very soon was acquainted with Prozen.

And here's where I'm going to put up some 'sensitive subject' caution tape.

Shortly after that is when he learned they had a young ancient Zoidian girl in their custody. Obviously this was INCREDIBLY relevant to Hiltz's interests - remember, at that point he wasn't aware of any other living Zoidians, and from what he learned from the Scholar had become concerned that most that would've otherwise survived, had been killed.

So Hiltz is introduced to Ryss, who's matured a little but she's still the Zoidian equivalent of a preteen.

Remember: Hiltz is from the Big On Genocide group and to anyone who knows what's up, it's written all over him. Ryss is from a smaller clan that was specifically targeted by Hiltz's group so of course she's torn between being absolutely terrified and being glad that someone who speaks her language and understands Organoids exists at all.

Hiltz explained the situation as he understood it, and worked to gain Ryss's trust by basically denouncing his association with his group. He put an end to her being held against her will, and they stayed together from then on. But let's be real. Hiltz wanted to fuck her six ways from Sunday. And she was VERY aware of this. And he knew she was very aware of this. So on and so forth. (read: at this point in time Ryss found she could easily exert control over exactly one person and did so. Much to Hiltz’s chagrin.) 

However, not only were there functional issues with this (eg Specula wasn't fully sexually mature, which tl;drs into "Ryss wasn't yet either" - and obviously part of Hiltz's interest was reproduction), Hiltz also did have the sense to not... you know, rape a child. He did genuinely want Ryss to trust him, work with him, and - hey, you know, maybe even -want- to be his mate? Pickings were slim after all, but there wasn't any reason they couldn't make the best of a bad situation. (maybe he might have tried “not constantly thinking of her as a lesser” but okay)

So everyone grew up some more and hooray, Guardian Force.

Thing is, Hiltz was an angry, mentally-unstable person with a slow but vicious temper, and though Ryss rarely caught sight of that, his wanton violence was a bit scary. Ryss also began to sympathize more with humans over time, which Hiltz couldn't stand. Ryss especially sympathized with Raven, who she initially was just intrigued by, but then she kiiiind of fell for him.        

[insert that short comic, Collapse.]

I have no intention, never have had any intention, of portraying Hiltz positively. In my canon he's a disgusting, broken, shambling mess with offensively high Charisma and I thematically like the idea of his atrocious scattering of a lineage having to deal with all the problems that'd come with (also, hi: the whole thing with anyone of Zoidian blood feeling compelled to Zoids and especially Organoids? Is a sort of allegory for addiction, which... yanno, runs in families)

k? k.

Oh and Ambient is an aggressively problematic pile of shit also. He's just as vicious as Hiltz. Aren't we excited to have him show up in NC? HAHAH FUCK.

Organoids are their own entities, though. He's not just some strange extension of Hiltz's personality. He's his own "person" - one who's been a delighted participant in -many, many- atrocious acts. He's arrogant and prideful, he's got a dark sense of humor and is loyal to a fault. He just doesn't have a handle on the problems One has caused him, and it's gnawed at him for years. (and unlike the older canon version, he's not completely lost his mind or anything - but depressed wallowing in a pit of failure and hate for years isn't really healthy.)

He's also held on to grudges for dear life, because otherwise the vastness of existence w/o partners for a hugely social creature was untenable.

Basically, I think there may be some hope for him to be turned around as a character. Hiltz - nope, never.

[dustydreamsanddirtyscars]

13x20 “Unfinished Business” Mirror Mirror on the Wall, May We Get a Doppelgänger Story After All? - A Dean Heavy “Review” of 13x20 “Unfinished Business”

As the title of this meta/spec already states this episode analysis for lack of a better word will focus on Dean most since him and his arc have always been what interested me most about SPN and lately kind of truly has become the only reason I still watch the show. I will however later on in this piece also talk about the other characters and bits of the episode that stood out to me. But forefront with this piece definitely definitely is Dean.

And to talk a bit more about him and his role within the latest episode I decided to go with the bit captured as the gifset above, because to me Dean’s drinking this episode served as a visual cue not just for the entirety of his mindset within the episode, but more general too and how it may contribute to what lies ahead for him.

We have seen Dean’s drinking become a bit more frequent again the past few episodes, but it has been quite a while if memory serves right that we have seen Dean drink from the flask as earlier in the episode.

In fact, I think the last time Dean had drunk from it on screen was at the beginning of the season during the “therapy session”. To me that actually nicely closes a cycle, because to me it seems that Dean’s depression and absolute readiness to lay his head to rest is at an all time high again after it had subsided slightly after Cas returned. Nothing drove Dean’s tiredness and his wish for things to just be “over soon” home like the ending scene.

If this episode cemented one thing for me, it is that Dean is tired, he is done and he knows that something is coming for him. And not just due to Billie’s ominous words. To me it seems Dean knows more than he lets on and that he has a plan, because to me the whole framing of Dean this episode especially called back to S5 when Dean was about to say yes to Michael. Now, I don’t suggest that that is happening now (could also be Dean’s wound from the AU indeed is causing more issues or he made some other deal or just knows he’ll sacrifice himself no matter what, because he is tired and yes, tired Dean seemed all episode, tired and done), but it certainly could fit with other parts of the episode that served as major Dean mirrors imo this episode.

One of the big Dean mirrors imo was Kevin Tran (btw I think this episode marked Osric’s best SPN performance to date - really he deserves some standing ovations for this). Because while Dean on the surface looks more “put together” and he hides it behind a mask and stance of “annoyance” and “gruffness”, to me the way we see Kevin here is actually how it looks within Dean as well. And Kevin’s entire speech about never having believed in anything until the end of the world happened and everyone around him started to die. And then God chosing him and he not even being able to fathom what that means and how he had hoped that Michael would save the world, but ended up doing the opposite. All of that to me aligns very well with Dean’s own story too. We know that Dean has always struggled with having faith or believing that “good things do happen” and just like Kevin him and his brother experienced that everyone around them dies. And then just in S11 God again chose Dean, told him the world would be save in his and his brother’s hands (even if he left), because Dean is the firewall between light and darkness and Dean too wondered “what the hell that would even mean”. So yeah, to me their struggles here line up perfectly and to me it might hint at Dean making a deal (maybe with Michael or with someone/something else) in which he would offer himself up (compare that also to Jack’s “What’s the point if I can’t keep them safe?”) for the safety of his loved ones and the world. And especially this piece of dialogue here where Kevin is framed as a christ figure with the cross in the back felt ominously close to how the season may end...

That even if the Winchesters may win some at the end, they may lose more [as a brief side note here: tbh I was so angry about Dabb having the audacity to now use this rework of what should have been Crowley’s last words and that were so important to Mark Sheppard and cut them in the end only to bring them back now in reversal, because really to me it shows a lot about what kind of people the people are that are currently running the show, I find it disgusting, but anywho...]

And even though I still don’t think Michael!Dean is truly what will end up being the case I have to admit if they wanted to with the Kevin parallel (And as captured above the amount of halo shots with Dean this episode, the above is just one of many would fit to that - the shot actually also reminded of this one

in 9x21 “King of the Damned” where Dean also “sidelined” Sam to keep him save. So while last episode didn’t give me any feelings on Dean being back to MoC!Dean ways, this decision of his felt ominous and foreboding - I personally think in the end Dean will either yield the archangel blade or the Lance of Michael or will die/be wounded by one of those) this episode to me they laid enough groundwork to assume that maybe Dean has already “made contact” with Michael and agreed to something and offering himself up. Because it may not be about dying as Kevin told Jack, but about breaking a person enough for them to give themselves up due to the guilt they may feel (”You don’t know the things I have done” is a line that Demon!Dean for example used just like Kevin) and the lack of options they see for themselves to go on. And while Kevin dies here not for the greater good, but because he is at the end of his rope, I could see something similar happen with Dean only that it would be more of an action for the greater good (and btw the toy soldier in the AU to me also called back perfectly not just to the one stuck in the ashtray of the Impala, but to Dean himself, who was always reffered to as “a good little soldier”, a “blunt instrument” - really the writing in this regard and how it diminishes Dean as a person, but treats him like an object goes a long way back and fits to the whole vessel theme).

So Kevin’s death here rather rings some alarm bells of how bad it is going to get in the last 3 episodes. [as another brief side note here, I felt it rather unnescessary of them to show Jack’s wings here, because well, we have already known he has them for a while, this just seemed a little “hello causal viewer just so you KNOW” and well, I dislike things of that kind so... Plus: Can’t also say I love that they now also turned Mary’s words to Dean into a new thing here with an angel now watching over Mary (more on her a bit later as well). Seriosuly, yawnnnn, I don’t need that. It isn’t sweet or touching but just ughhh to me, but then again I am just not a fan of Dabb’s showrunning, so...]   And the other Dean mirrors in the episode didn’t make that feeling go away at all, but rather strengthened that bad stuff lies ahead. Because to me the other huge Dean mirror was Gabriel/Loki.

I had talked about the aspect of doppelgängers and the two halves of each person a lot before during the MoC arc and especially in relation to Dean’s arc in comparison to Charlie and Dark!Charlie and it seems to me that entire thread the show revisited with Gabriel going after his “alter ego” Loki. We basically got another doppelgänger story here in which someone has to face a side of “himself” he may not like as Gabriel told Dean about in this moment.

and well, I personally have always headcanoned and hoped the show would go this route with Dean after the mark was removed, because to me Dean was left “in pieces” after that and still isn’t whole again (which is why I always liked the idea of story where Dean puts himself back together again in a similar fashion as Sam did in S6 as I talked about also in one the last asks I replied to). Now, what to me made the Gabriel/Loki thing a possible Dean mirror or rather piece of foreshadowing is (and yeah it might be a bit farfetched, but hey this is spec and it is mean to just throw ideas around) how one could argue Michael or Lucifer are “doppelgängers” of the Winchesters, because they serve as counterparts as vessels so to speak. Looking at Gabriel’s “witness protection”-stunt and the way he points at Dean here. Of course it is meant as “you are right”, but to me this episode just heavily suggested that maybe we’ll get some sort of Dean in “witness protection” as well of some sort. Because why the hell put so much time into exploring this whole deal with Gabriel so late in the season if not to use it in some fashion (okay, of course it could be they don’t do anything further with it lol it is Dabb after all, and so far it also seems the wound was the same thing - both would be a shame if not further used imo)?

So to me there exists potential in a possible doppelgänger!Dean arc at the end of the season, because, well... didn’t anybody else think Loki’s clothing seemed awfully fitting to those we saw from BTS pics of Jensen?

Just era wise... It’s very little to go on, but I could imagine some sort of scenario in which Dean does something really dangerous in order to save the world so that he would need such “protection” (Hell, who says that Dean didn’t strike a deal with the trickster if not Michael or some other powerful being?) and hence the Non!Dean pictures? Even the trickster’s entire conversation with Dean and how he granted Gabriel this protection (if walking away from his family to me would absolutely align and fit with Dean “preparing” Sam for him to not be around for much longer and maybe not due to death, but something else) would fit into Dean’s arc.

In this regard I also found Gabriel’s tale about how he met Loki rather interesting as to me it felt also a fitting parallel to Michael in the cage. Gabriel said he had stumbled upon Loki bound in a cave while hiking the fjords while a snake spewed venom into Loki’s eyes. If you ask me you could also read this as Michael trapped in the cage where he was driven insane by Lucifer (commonly depicted as also the snake). So what if Dean saved Michael from the cage somehow just like Gabriel saved Loki? What if he owed Dean one and they made a deal? In any case to me this whole set up of facing up against yourself or “someone who wears your face”, your alter ego, dark side, shadow self, however you want to call it, could also nicely lead into a Michael against Michael scenario with all of the text and subtext in this episode...

And last but not least in relation to Dean’s talk with the trickster, something that stood out to me again was the topic of “John Winchster”.

It’s not the first time he came up this season and I have always said that Dean would need another “good bye” to truly let his father’s ghost rest (though what are the chances for that to happen with Heaven going out of business - though I suppose they’ll use Jack to power up Heaven again - unless the allusions and revisit of Crowley’s words were meant to put Jack as new Ruler of Hell, which I doubt).

So... I said this before, but I truly think that by the end of this season we will get a JDM scene of some sort - even if it just lasts for 10 seconds. Maybe it’ll be tied to Dean dying/close to dying or being in the veil or tied to Mary possibly dying and seeing him again or just simply due to all ghosts/souls crashing to Earth with Heaven falling lol. Which brings me to the other bits and characters of the episode that I want to briefly write about, I’ll do that behind the cut. But I have to say it seems whatever will happen with Dean, I get the feeling it will be heavy - sad thing is they could have built all of it up better over the whole season - maybe then I actually would have liked at least some of it lol, but yeah... I hope against hope for good things for Dean!Girls. What are the odds though...

Anyway, on to the rest with a few cliffnotes on other parts of the episode I liked/disliked/that stood out to me:

First and foremost I need to briefly mention Mary here and her whole regret/pain/guilt thing. I mean, it’s nice to know she finally realized she made mistakes, but sadly the show ruined her character so much for me that these scenes here where she was all “motherly” just enraged me, because really after this here

I wanted to scream: You didn’t lose any boys, you fucking abandoned them for a whole season!!! So yeah, not a fan of the Mary scenes at all, they felt cheap to me.

Something else I also greatly disliked was the tone shift in the episode between the worlds. I get that they wanted to be a bit Tarantino with everything Gabriel, but really to me this stuff doesn’t work. Not anymore. It just feels like SPN is a parody of itself at those times. And it’s a shame because I actually really loved Richard Speight’s acting as Loki/Gabriel. His anger, etc. was spot on. Though really, him suffering for 8 years... Please, compare that to Dean and 40 years in Hell or Sam with almost 120 years in the cage. Suck it up, Gabriel! ;P

And last but not least for a shot I really liked lol, because, well, Sam and Dean are literally Gabriel’s wings uhm wingmen here. ;)

Other than that I liked the episode. But probably only because of the focus I read into it in regards to Dean which may not end up being anything at all lol. But yeah, Jensen’s acting/my worry about Dean surely carried me through this episode.

[gwydionae]

How to Break Paultin Seppa in One Storm or Less

(...this is ridiculously long. It is an actual, literal essay. If anyone somehow reads all of this then cheers! Critique and discussion welcome - I am running on so little sleep right now, I’m only kinda sure this all makes sense. XD)

"I honestly have no idea what guides you or spurs you." - Evelyn to Paultin, ep 93

I find Paultin to be a very intriguing character. He is a man who chooses his words carefully and prefers to show his true colors through his actions. But episode 93 brought out a side we really hadn’t seen before, and suddenly those carefully chosen words were a lot more revealing than they’ve ever been for those willing to really think about them and compare them to some of his more recent actions. In the past, he had a very self-centered attitude. It’s not that he didn’t care about anyone else at all, but his own self worth was simply far more important. But over the course of the campaign, that has been changing, and that couldn’t have been more evident than in episode 93. So just what is guiding our drunken bard’s actions of late, how has Evelyn not noticed, and why should all of this be a point of concern?

Quote A: "It wasn't about [the mandolin]. It's about something now... I'm not even sure if... that's even the right decision anymore." - Paultin to Evelyn, ep 93

The above quote is very cryptic. Paultin is vague, clearly not wanting to bare his soul completely, and instead of answering Evelyn’s question about what it means, he avoids it in favor of offering up a confession about how he finds he can’t bring himself to leave the Crew. This is something Evelyn is glad to hear, and thus she is distracted and the point gets dropped. But I think the answer can be found in the episode itself, and it ties directly into his current mindset and motivations.

There is a specific confession that he makes to Evelyn that I’m going to use as the foundation of most everything I’m going to bring up, and that is where he tells Evelyn at the end of the episode that he "felt like [he] was ready to get rid of the last reminiscing pains of [his] past and embrace what felt like a new family." His use of the word “family” here is what is most important. He has barely used the term “friends” to describe the Crew up to this point, and suddenly we hear him use a much more intimate descriptor. To consider a group of people you have no blood relations to as your “family” would imply a very close bond. He may not be able to put his finger on why, but these are people he wants to be around, and his actions of late do reflect that.

The obvious example is the sacrificing of the mandolin. He tells us exactly why he thought it was time to part with it in plain language, something he doesn’t do often. But it makes sense that he would spell this out specifically as Evelyn seemed really hung up on it. She couldn’t see it for what it really was: a way for him to continue on with his new family. Yes, it was a way of cutting ties with his past, but as he said in Quote A, it wasn’t about the mandolin and what it represented. It was about keeping all of them safe, because you can’t keep traveling with people if you’re all dead. That is his current motivation: keeping him and his party safe.

But then what does the second half of Quote A mean? He gave up his mandolin to protect everyone, but now he is regretting it. Why? The obvious assumption is that he’s upset because it was wasted, an unnecessary sacrifice since Diath and Strix ultimately offered up the bomb anyway. But I think it goes beyond that, and a very specific incident during the storm highlights this perfectly.

When Strix first goes overboard and Paultin is the only one free from his bonds on the ship, he instantly uses Locate Creature on her as if he had a plan. But when he hears she is about 500 feet away and underwater, Nate freezes. If I had to guess, I’d think he was maybe planning to use Animate Object on the rope to reach down and grab her, but that’s way too far for that. So he scans over his list of abilities and spells… and he comes up with nothing. He can’t think of a way that Paultin can save Strix given the circumstances. And so he has Evelyn break out of her ropes. Why?

Because she can fly.

Paultin can’t get to Strix as he is now, but just hours earlier he had a mandolin that he could use to cast Fly on himself. But he gave that up. And now instead of being able to protect a member of his new family, he has to endanger Evelyn as well. If his motivation is to keep everyone safe, this goes directly against that. But what about when he tells her he’s “not one to throw [his] life away?” Am I maybe overthinking this and he simply doesn’t want to risk his own life?

I believe there is solid evidence to support that this is not the case. In episode 86, when only he and Diath were left alive or conscious, he took it upon himself to fly up and face the balhannoth alone. In 87, when they stumbled across who they thought was Acerarak, he charged ahead of Diath and Strix, even offering to shadow him with Mislead while the others waited behind until he had a better idea of what was going on. In 90, he turns invisible when guards come down on them, but rather than using it to escape, he breaks it once he is aware of the situation in order to try and talk with their accuser to get his party members free and ultimately gets himself captured as well.

There is even a situation just prior to Strix falling overboard in 93 that, when viewed through Paultin’s relatively newfound protector instincts, comes across much differently than what actually happened in game. When she got free of her ropes to cast Counterspell, Nate wanted to use Animate Object. The assumption was that he was going to do it to free himself, but what if his plan was to use it on Strix’s ropes? This would keep her tethered and safe while still allowing her to cast a spell he thought could save all of them. It would also explain his reluctance toward using Dimension Door, a lower level spell and one he has a lot more familiarity with. And note that when he did use Dimension Door, he transported himself directly next to her, and when the wave came, Nate was upset because he was “going to do something,” and I don’t think it was a celebratory high five. I think he wanted to, now that his hands were free, tie them both down. It’s why he popped up directly next to her, so he could save them both at the same time. This is all speculation on my part, but considering that we now know he thinks of them as family and wants to protect them even if he has to risk his own safety, it makes sense.

So getting back to Quote A, I think we have found our answer: he was questioning whether sacrificing the mandolin was the right decision because even though it could have saved them at the time, that meant he didn’t have it when he needed it. If he had held on to it, he could have left Evelyn tied up on the ship while he flew out to find and save Strix. One less person would have been put in harm’s way, and as we know, Evelyn was the one who ultimately took the biggest beating and even fell unconscious. She was saved, but what if those merfolk hadn’t shown up? No doubt Evelyn rather excitedly recounted her tale to all of them once they were safe; just think about how this news would affect Paultin, knowing that he was the one who put her in that situation because he had ditched his mandolin mere hours earlier.

The one who had told her to stop rushing into things and dying all the time had sent her “into the fire” to die because he had gotten rid of the tool that could have prevented it.

It’s honestly no wonder Paultin seemed so depressed by the end of the episode. He had talked a big game, acted like he had all the answers, and then by jumping to conclusions - Counterspelling the giants - and being “self-righteous” - not trusting Evelyn to handle the dragon turtle and discarding his mandolin - he had nearly gotten them all killed. He is not solely to blame, of course, but the juxtaposition of what he had just scolded everyone else for and his own actions is not something I think went unnoticed by him.

Quote B: “Why are you even here to begin with?” - Evelyn to Paultin, ep 93

And this is where Evelyn directly comes into play. Her asking Quote B to Paultin, while very harsh, is not entirely unwarranted. If you think about the examples I gave that prove that Paultin’s current motivations are keeping everyone safe, these either occur after this question was asked (their talk at the end of 93) or while Evelyn was dead (86, 87, and 90) or simply due to her not being privy to Paultin’s thought process (during the storm in 93). Think of a lot of the interactions she has had with Paultin recently, though.

In episode 92, he claims that he wants to give up the mandolin because he doesn’t want to die, and he offers it in a very agitated and angry way. It doesn’t seem like it’s something he wants to do. Earlier in that same episode, when he found her after being attacked in the bathhouse, he didn’t even bother to ask what happened or if she was ok, just bluntly telling her to make it outside as soon as she could. In 84 after being freed from the ring’s control, he completely ignored her, and the first words he says to any of his party are an accusing “what did you do” to Strix. And in 73, she asks him why he decided to come with them in the first place, and he says that it was “a coin toss” and that “unknown seemed more interesting than boring.” Add on top of that his disappearing acts in 69 and 65 and “Grung high” during the Yabanug fight in 68 (due to Nate’s absence, but still notable) when the Crew could have really used his help, and Evelyn does have a lot of evidence pointing toward Paultin not really caring about anyone but himself. And you don’t need to travel with a party that gets you killed if that’s what you care about, hence her question.

There is one big problem with Quote B, though, and that’s the discussion Evelyn had with Paultin in the Shadowfell in episode 85. During the conversation, Paultin openly admitted that he never “really felt like a contributing fourth,” but when he saw the Ring of Winter, his thoughts were, “That’s it! That’s how I can contribute. That’s how I can become the fourth piece.” In the end he realizes he had made a mistake, but the point is that he openly admitted to wanting to help the Crew. A truly selfish person wouldn’t do that. They would have wanted the ring for its power and not felt guilty about it nearly backfiring on him. But instead he not only openly admits he was wrong, he apologizes and says that he wants to make it up to them. For Paultin who keeps feelings and emotions so close to his chest, this is akin to holding up a bright, neon sign that flashes “I CARE ABOUT ALL OF YOU.”

But Evelyn doesn’t pick up on any of this. She is too focused on her own problem to read between the lines and realize that he is admitting that he cares about the rest of the party. To be fair, Paultin had brushed off what he had overheard her praying about right before this, and it was clearly weighing on her. My speculation would be that it was a topic he simply wasn’t ready to discuss openly yet, but that still doesn’t mean that Evelyn would be ok just ignoring it. So I don’t blame her for being so single-minded in this instance. But the point is that Paultin had already given her - and her alone - solid, verbal evidence that he is sticking around because he cares, and still she is the one to ask him Quote B. He knows that Evelyn listened, but she hadn’t actually heard a word he said.

After Diath apologizes for not listening to him during the bomb incident in episode 92, Paultin says “you listen to me” to Simon, but it’s possible he could be thinking of instances such as the above mentioned scene with Evelyn as well. Whether that’s true or not, it’s clear he wants to be heard and taken seriously. But even after his harsh warning about jumping into things at the beginning of 93, when the storm hits, Strix still instantly puts herself in harm’s way by Misty Stepping out of her ropes. All you have to do is watch and listen to Nate’s reaction to this - a long, loud sigh - to know what he’s thinking: she didn’t hear a word he said earlier about not being reckless. Nothing has changed. Still no one is listening.

But then he messes up. His plan is flawed and puts everyone in danger as was discussed above. And how does he react to this? By not saying a word for six days. Why should they listen to him when he makes the same mistakes he calls them out on, after all. Combine that with Paultin’s motivation of wanting to keep everyone safe, the fact that he scolded everyone else and then fell prey to his own words, and Evelyn - the only one he had opened up to about why he wanted the Ring of Winter - questioning why he was still with them, and it’s not hard to see why he’s choosing to stay silent by the end of 93.

But there is still one more thing weighing him down, and it’s directly addressed in Quote C:

Quote C: "The problem is, none of you are survivors. And it's getting - it's so much. It's getting to be way too much." - Paultin to the Crew, ep 93

What, exactly, does he mean when he says they aren’t “survivors?” Strix has proven that she could survive by herself for fifty years, so it can’t be “survivors” in the sense of “someone who can survive on their own.” But think about what he says before and after this:

“...I’m really just getting so sick of everyone just being, like, ‘No, me! No, me! Let me do it!’ It’s like - this is why every other day we borderline die.”

“There’s other ways to solve problems than just, like, ‘Oh, let me jump into the fire!’”

“You say, like, “Oh, I care about ma friends [...]” and yet you’re still just like, ‘Oh, well, ya know, I’ll still just go and get myself killed.’”

This is what Paultin means by them not being “survivors” - they don’t care about themselves. Diath, Strix, and Evelyn all want to keep everyone else safe, but they aren’t selfish enough to care about what happens to them, to care if they themselves survive. This is what he means when he tells Evelyn to “stop thinking about yourself by thinking about yourself.” He is saying that she should stop thinking so much about what she wants and think a bit more about her own well-being. This is his very cryptic way of giving her a similar message to what Zaress gave her in the afterlife: it’s ok to be a little selfish. He’s not referring to things like wanting power like he did with the ring, he is simply saying that they shouldn’t be so quick to throw their lives away.

Paultin wants to keep his party safe, including himself. He has proven this. This is his current motivation. But the rest of the Crew are different. They are only concerned with keeping everyone in the party aside from themselves safe. And as evidenced by his emotional blow up over the issue in 93, this is what is ultimately starting to push Paultin to his breaking point. While three of his friends are working to keep three people safe, he is the only one protecting all four. And that is a big job with a lot of responsibility - responsibility he, frankly, is not fully equipped to bear, and I think he knows this. He is trying so hard, but as we saw during the storm, doing that by himself proved only that he knows no other way to do that than by mimicking the ones around him whose self-destructive behavior he disapproves of so much. And it leaves him questioning his actions (“Maybe I should have just held onto [the mandolin].”), his motives (“I'm not even sure if... that's even the right decision anymore.”), and his future (“I can’t bring myself to leave, and I don’t know how to feel about that.”).

This is what he means by “it’s getting to be way too much.” The pressure and anxiety was already getting to him before the storm, and everything that happened in 93 only made it worse. He admitted before the storm that their constant self-sacrificing was “a toxicity [he didn’t] want in [his] life,” and the events during said storm only proved that he couldn’t handle it nor, apparently, change their mind about the issue. If he was being pushed to an uncharacteristic emotional reaction before the storm, just think of how hard all of this must have hit him afterwards.

Everyone risking their lives recklessly. His words constantly falling on deaf ears. Not listening to his own advice and putting everyone in danger as a result.

Completely failing in every way, in his every attempt, to do what he cares about most: protect his new family.

This is his current motivation. This is what has been driving him for a while now. And in one day, everything - short of dying - that could beat that down from all possible angles and leave him broken and defeated did so. Everything is likely beyond “too much” at this point, and if he weren’t currently stuck on a boat, I think there’s every possibility that someone like Paultin who isn’t used to caring about anyone but himself could step away. For someone like him, the easiest way to make it not hurt so much is to remove that “toxicity” from his life. With most things, he copes by drinking until he is numb to such feelings, and as he’s “drinking more than usual,” that is obviously the route he is currently trying to go to deal with everything. But if that doesn’t seem to be working for him and nothing else changes in regards to the issue before they reach Waterdeep, it is entirely possible the Crew could find themselves one person short. Maybe this is why it takes Paultin so long to respond when at the very end of their conversation Evelyn says that she’s glad he hasn’t left yet. Maybe he knows that such an option is more on the table than it’s been in a very long time.

Now, this is, first and foremost, a D&D show put on for entertainment. We have seen in the past that both Chris and the cast are willing to bend a few things to make sure that the cast member’s characters don’t stay separated for very long - Anna’s recent separation ties with Nate’s stint in Ravenloft in season 1 at about five episodes for each before they are reunited - so there is a very real possibility that no matter what happens, Paultin’s not going anywhere, and if he does, it wouldn’t be for long. But speaking strictly from a character perspective, Paultin leaving a group that he’s constantly watching be reckless and die without being able to help them overcome that wouldn’t surprise me. I love that his concern for his friends - his family - is what is currently guiding him. Now I can only hope that the rest of the characters come to realize that and see the negative effect their unnecessarily self-sacrificing actions are having on one of their own before it’s too late.

[abimckeag-blog]

In Detail, part one

now that I’ve identified the bulk of the experiences I’ve had throughout my life, I feel it’s only fair to explain how I’ve delt with them and what caused them to begin with.

I can’t always identify the roots of my issues, but I can normally come pretty close to knowing what triggered any self destructive behavior or negative mindset.

In this post I want to discuss my struggle with suicidal thoughts.

I know this is a topic that doesn’t get discussed as freely and often as it should.

according to an article written in May of 2017, over 9 million people in America alone consider killing themselves every year.

and to me, that number seems small.

I know several people who have also struggled with thoughts of suicide and unfortunately I knew several people who lost their battles.

I hope that if you are struggling right now you can draw inspiration from my story to seek out help, you should never have to deal with this alone.

before I continue I’m going to leave the number to the suicide hotline here, in case anyone can’t remember the name of that one Logic song, and because it’s a great outlet right at your fingertips, please take advantage of it if you feel the need.

1-800-273-8255, there’s an online chat option if you feel like a phone call would be uncomfortable, remember it’s anonymous, and NO ONE is ever going to judge you for taking care of yourself.

now onto my story.

until I was, around 9 I had no idea what suicide was, I didn’t realize that was an option.

I had a fairly standard childhood, I don’t remember that much to be honest.

I know my parents loved me and my siblings, but I also know they weren’t around much.

both of my parents worked full time and on call as anesthesiologists at the hospital in North Platte and we had a nanny to watch us during the day.

the bulk of my childhood memories revolve around time spent with babysitters and nannies and being forced to go to piano lessons and volleyball practice and dance lessons and the typical childhood stuff.

when I was young I didn’t want to partake in a lot of the stuff my parents signed me up for which I think is normal for young kids, I really wish I could go back in time and tell my younger self to suck it up and accept the blessings they were giving me.

but as a little 7 year old being forced to play soccer when all I wanted to do was build forts in my backyard, I couldn’t see how privileged I was to be given these opportunities.

to me, it seemed like the only time I saw my parents was when they were taking me to and from these things and even then my nanny took me to the bulk of the activities, so you’d think I’d enjoy going out and playing sports cause I got to see my parents, but that wasn’t the case.

I wanted to quit them so that we’d have time to stay at home and play hide and seek and just normal kid stuff.

as a little kid though you have no way of conveying that’s what you’re thinking, instead, all you can do is throw a fit and come off as a total brat.

so growing up with your parents not around is kind of rough and I think that really set me up for some not so great life experiences.

I never learned how to communicate with my parents, I never talked with them about important things like religion, boys, puberty, etc.

they sure tried to talk to me about it, but I never reciprocated that connection, I thought if I kept all my issues to myself then I’d seem stronger and more put together.

now all this detail about my childhood, which honestly was a great childhood, I am truly blessed, I know there are so many people out there with stories so so so much worse than mine, anyways, this just explains how I never learned to communicate or find a healthy outlet for my emotions because I only wanted to talk to my parents about all the cool stuff I did that day and not serious issues.

suicide had never crossed my mind until I was probably 11 or 12, I was a really early bloomer and my hormones basically turned me into a tyrant.

I was constantly mad at everything and I found that rebelling against my parents was going to be my new outlet.

I died my hair, I smeared black eyeliner on, I bought black lipstick, I wore all black clothes (still do, but it’s fashion), I listened to loud, angry music, I painted my nails black, I quit going to church, or when I did I was mad about it, I turned into the stereotype you’re already probably picturing.

but the thing is, I wasn’t just changing my outward appearance and physical state, my mental state was deteriorating.

it takes so much energy to be mad all the time and it was exhausting me.

I felt terrible about myself, I turned to starving myself and cutting myself and then eventually binge eating hoping it would somehow make me feel better.

I had a voice in the back of my head telling me it would all go away if I just ended it.

on several occasions I remember raiding our medicine cabinet hoping to find something I knew I could overdose on.

I remember holding a handful of ibuprofen up to my mouth hoping that if I swallowed it I would just disappear, but God was watching me.

he’d been with me this whole time no matter how many times I denied him.

something told me it wouldn’t be worth it, I told myself it wouldn’t work, I’d just end up getting my stomach pumped, and then everything would be worse afterwards.

I didn’t do it.

moving to a new town certainly saved my life in some aspects, for those that don’t know, I moved right before my eighth grade year, I transferred from a lutheran school to a public middle school.

it was quite the shock, it definitely was beneficial but also detrimental for my mental health.

I continued to struggle with the thoughts of suicide all throughout high school.

my junior year of high school was when everything peaked.

I’d made a dumb mistake that summer before without thinking about the consequences.

I lost a lot of friends and those that were once my friends were now the closest thing to bullies I’d ever experienced.

it made me sick to wake up in the morning knowing I’d have to go to school and see them everyday.

the things that were said to me were unbelievably cruel.

I remember driving around late at night just debating if I should drive my car into a light pole or a ditch, I remember considering driving head on into the oncoming traffic on many occasions.

but everytime I almost made the worst decision of my life, God intervened.

now I have never been an extremely religious person, I was raised in the church, my mom has always been on the worship team wherever we were, and my father is an extremely spiritual man, but it never translated to me until this summer.

so during this whole time, I never once sat down and prayed and asked God for advice, yet he somehow still got me through everything.

eventually, junior year ended, and there I was.

still standing.

I met a boy and I fell in love and we were together for my entire senior year, and then in late December, my self esteem dropped.

my mental health was beginning to deteriorate and thoughts of suicide rushed through my brain.

I tried to explain to him what was happening to me, but I couldn’t find the right words and he had issues going on in his life he needed to cope with, and eventually after struggling with thoughts of killing myself for 5 months, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I had a full mental breakdown in May and after months of living in a broken relationship, torn apart by my inability to love myself, we ended things.

it destroyed me for a few weeks, but I invested myself so heavily in my job and I changed gyms and started hanging out with friends whenever I could, I just sort of ignored it.

it was when nobody was around and I was home doing nothing that feelings of immense depression overtook me.

I struggled with the worst season of binge eating I’ve ever experienced this summer.

I wouldn’t get out of bed until 1pm on a good day, I’d stay out till 5am, and then repeat the cycle.

then I had my awakening, God was still watching me, he was hoping I’d find him on my own, but that wasn’t the case.

he sent one of my best friends to save me.

I spilled out everything, every bad thought, every raw emotion I’d been holding inside, and I felt free.

they told me about God’s grace and mercy and his never ending forgiveness.

they said “if God can forgive you, why can’t you forgive yourself?”.

I started to look in the mirror and instead of hating the person I’d become, I started appreciating myself for overcoming what I’ve been through.

instead of hating my body, I appreciated it for all the amazing things it’s capable of.

instead of living in regret for past decisions, I let them go.

I stopped dwelling.

but here I am today, laying on my bedroom floor, and I’ll admit that yesterday I wasn’t happy with myself, and the day before that, and the day before that, and even right now I know I’m not 100% content with myself.

and that’s okay.

I still struggle with thoughts of suicide, I have been for 7 years.

I will never be perfect.

I may never stop having dark thoughts, but I will never give in.

I know I have a purpose, I know I have worth, I know I am not useless.

and neither are you.

none of us are.

we are all beautifully and wonderfully made and God loves us so much, it’s completely unfathomable.

if you are struggling today and you need someone to talk, feel free to talk to me, I am here for anyone, but before you talk to me,

I want you to pray.

ask for guidance, ask for forgiveness, and know that you are loved, no matter how far you think you stray from the Lord, he is always right there beside you, just waiting for you to call on him.

now I know there’s a lot I didn’t cover in this, even though it’s very long, but I will continue posting these, hence why this is only part one.

each one discussing different issues I have dealt with and I’m sure some of you are experiencing.

I really hope this helped you, even if it didn’t, I hope you can understand for just a second that God loves you, he always has, and always will.

[nicskoyoga]

That girl needs therapy...

I’m excited to embark on a new journey, with a therapist I’m expecting to spend quite a lot of time with. Because I really want to? I guess so, yeah. Sick to death of experiencing my own let-downs. :(

Who cares? No-one REALLY 

... not enough to get up off their arse and find out exactly what needs to be done. 

Only those who’ve had to walk the path themselves can empathize completely. And actually I don’t know if I know anyone who has been through it all, and would be available to hold my hand. Why? Cos that’s not their vocation, and they’re not my mother, lover or dearest friend. 

Gratitude without showing it

So completely grateful for the advice I’ve been given though....

Don’t get me wrong. It’s just so difficult to take advice though isn’t it? 

Some people just learn in different ways. Some of us have to have our hand held, and...

Why? Because we’re a different kind of addict to our problems. 

We’re the kind that hasn’t got the get-go to behold true deep reliable faith in ourselves. We gotta see it, have it agreed, and confirmed 1million times over, cos...

We’re too damn stuck to be able unspell ourselves from our own stupid miseries.

Heck I’m still I’m happy I’m me though!!! Wouldn’t wanna be the lot of ya, ha ha ha ha. 

That’s probably my worst personality trait failing showing bright and true as it is there for ya for free, go on, hate on me. But ... I do believe I think I’m better, and yet I know I’m bloody useless too. And you’re amazing and better than me in too many shameful ways (yawn. but yet AWFUL!!!!) 

So yeah... I know stuff. I’ve experienced changes. I could do with just a little bit more

Now... I know I’m getting all ahead of myself; already getting so super excited that I may be able to really enjoy my life deeply soon when,

I’ve had literally 1 session of therapy so obviously the help hasn’t yet begun really.... And yet, 

I do believe a change is on the horizon.

This year has been pretty damn challenging in terms of managing (or not) my mental health problems. BUT it’s getting easier, I feel less sick, literally feel like good food is edible again. I have less headaches and anxiety attacks and my depressive states are gradually reducing.

Why do I tell this story?

Imagining that few to no people will read me. Because it’s me truthfully now. It’s what I am happy to help explain, and share. 

God I try to let people know,

but it’s so damn depressing I don’t want to burden, 

I just want to explain a little... 

so they can understand;

why I am unable to tell them what is good with my life 

and why I don’t want to join in anymore, 

why I don’t want to actively live my life... 

Because things aren’t in place in my life, 

and every time I try to get on track, I get a knockback again before long, in the shape of stupid, F**king, ever-reappearing mental health shite.

Can you tell I’m a little bit angry about it? 

I’m hugely ashamed about it, 

...that I keep letting myself and others down, but not quite enough to pull my finger out, hey. Yep ... loser, and knows it. The ramblings of a suicidal you’d think? Nope I can’t even be bothered to think my life is worth ending, I’d rather suffer in knowing it’s wasted.

I used to, and still kind of do believe that 

therapy is only really worthy of those who are suicidal. (WRONG)

Any of you who have ever encountered the questions by a health professional asking you if you are suicidal or have ever had suicical thoughts may know what I mean. 

I mean... why are you asking me like it’s a determinator of how awful my life is, are you telling me to

get to that point before I’m ready to get help? Heck what the hell! 

Obviously I know it’s about a duty of care. But my god, there’s gotta be some truth in giving those who are waiving the white flag at the grim reaper a red flag up to the top of the “that girl needs therapy” list

Money health talks

Do you know I managed to fail a health assessment for Employment Support Allowance, I was going to challenge it, yet I read the report and the statements were true. 

And yet here I am 6 months later. Same situ, off job seekers.  Struggling to keep working. I may as well take another bloody corporate job, at least I get better pay and better hours, cos my extra time and space right now doesn’t appear to be doing the trick

Sack me again, let me drain the corporations and get closer to that more important suicidal feelin’, yeah!!?

That trick I thought I had up my sleeve of becoming a yoga teacher would help me end of. 

NOPE. Girl still needs therapy. 

Of course I don’t have a clear strategy, I’ve been too poorly to address the essentials. Shame on me. 

So where’s my support? My family find ways to help me hugely but it’s not easy, it’s not without discomfort and it’s certainly doesn’t feel like taking liberties living in luxury.  It’s not possible for me to drain my parents retirement on which they’re living.

 The system isn’t supporting me, and I am struggling to support myself. It’s sick. 

So now a motivation for me to earn money is for me to afford my therapy. How nuts is that. 

I choose a better present and a future as my priority. I’m offered to pay less but as a professional in a similar field I don’t wish to exploit this generosity. It’s empowering to know it’s possible, yet whilst I set my priorities on my basic needs and this, 

How  dare I lower her rates to charity level, that’s not on. Not unless I’ve succumbed to the addictions of life, materialism, capitalism, being unable to be in solitude or celebrate at low - zero expense

... then that’s my problem as far as I am concerned and should it happen, then I’ll be happy to say I’m sorry I am asking to take advantage of your generosity.

Money talks

My belief is that our economic balance is total trash, 

Equality in life is at the essence of my beliefs,

Hence why I fall victim to believing that you are entitled to earn what your clients earn, if they value you, they will share the value of their time with you for the value of your time. 

What they fail to see more often than not, is that the value of my time is not the time in which they have me in a room, or the spare minutes around or messages exchanged. Working as a yoga instructor, or fitness instructor is so poorly valued, 

We spend so much time if we are doing a good proper job in keeping things afloat. 

IE let’s example a building contractor. Why do you pay them so much? Well of course they have to go and 

source the materials and put a premium on them no doubt, 

and they have to do the plans 

and my god may they have to market themselves? 

Or pay for tools (no I don’t just need mats) 

Let’s talk about my laptop which I wouldn’t have got honestly unless for work, 

for the phone which is on it’s arse which needs replacing to enable me to pitch for more work, 

what about the photo and video editing software, mic, camera etc that would all help me to keep going along this track so I can create content and stuff. 

God I’ve even got to pay for word processor these days, 

my insurances. 

Do you know what I’d 100% ditch my car if it wasn’t for work so 

How much do you spend on your car cos you’re income allows? 

RANT OVER(ish) ... at the fear of sounding like a self-entitled arsehole, ha. But you see where I am going with this. These are not just set up costs, they’re business costs which will need attention over time, for an exchange of services = business 

Even if it’s not a tangible asset, it’s a lifestyle choice like a car that actually you might walk away with lifelong lifestyle value against rather than depreciating bullshit.

There is business costs you wouldn’t consider, and you have lifestyle expectations that you demand of your employment, so because you think that it’s a choice or privilege for someone to pursue their vocation and it’s their responsibility or problem, and nothing of your concern that they have not found the way to achieve their income or funding without asking for reasonable rates of pay that reflect your own salaried hourly rate.  Where do you expect business funding to come from? - Those who advantage from the business!

That’s why it’s so hard

Because, 

Conflicting with this I also believe that yoga should not have this prestige image, or something of aspirational, it should be accessible to the masses ... god it’s within us so let me teach you how to practice yourself for free

My words are coming to an end. Terrible ramblings, I don’t have the patience right now to produce some quality content to share, hence why I don’t mind no-one it reading now. But maybe in time to come it may be seen and understood as a backstory. Shedding whatever lights I felt at the time, maybe changed, hopefully understood in the future with less conflict.

I would like to end this by offering my deepest apologies for my untruths, lies, letdowns, and would like to offer my deepest gratitude to those who read, who help, and who have the heart to care without judgement that this girl who needs therapy may always but has faith she will be absolutely amazing soon.

Almost THE END

And the last depressive note, just because hey, I am, and why not after being vocal on it. 

Sleeping tablets.. I’ve had over my dose tonight, again. and look at the energy exuding from me. 

Tomorrow no doubt I’ll be wiped and find my day tiresome needing naps or if I was in a office I’d be sitting pretending to do some mundane tasks extremely slowly (very rewarding). 

So well done, thanks for the help there NHS / Benefits system. Sort the shit out. 

Time out. 

And next up... when is it ok to start telling people I am letting them down because I am too depressed and anxious? 

.............................................THE END

[artificialqueens]

But I’m A Cheerleader! - Chapter 25 (Aja x Farrah) - Millie

A/N: hey guys, I don’t want to be depressing, but I’m gonna be depressing. I absolutely love this fic with all my heart, and I love seeing everyone’s happy reactions, but lately it’s been getting hard to write so that’s why updates have been a bit all over the place. I feel like I need to take a step back and relax a little so there won’t be updates every week, probably just every 2 maybe 3 weeks; I’d rather give you guys a good quality chapter that took a while than the ones I’ve been doing lately that feel like I’m just churning it out like a robot. Another factor of that is that school has me stressed, and I’m going through some personal stuff. I hope you can all understand and I hope you enjoy the chapter :)

Farrah stormed into the changing rooms where everyone else was, stomping into the Bombers’ side to see everyone huddled together discussing what had just happened. Her presence stopped the conversation, and once she’d spotted Valentina, Farrah didn’t hesitate in cornering her.

“You did this!” Farrah snarled, pointing an accusing finger at her face once she was backed against the wall. It was hard to be intimidating when you were 5'3", crying, and in a cheerleading uniform, so Farrah had to resort to volume. “You sent that video to everyone in the goddamn school. And you made up that rumour, too!” It dawned on her that she’d have to apologise to Aja for blaming that on her, but her intense rage pushed that to the back of her mind.

Valentina had fear in her eyes, but that didn’t stop her from biting back. “So what if I did?” she snapped. “Aja is a Glamazon, and-” At this point, the Glamazons had walked into their side of the changing room to see what the commotion was. They always loved a fight, especially one they could get behind.

“Oh, don’t start,” Trinity said from the right adjacent wall. “No one cares! We’re friends with the Glamazons now, and whatever you were about to call Aja, you’re probably that yourself.”

Valentina’s eyes widened at her. “Excuse-”

“You were supposed to be my friend,” Farrah added. “You were supposed to support me.”

“I didn’t have to. I didn’t have to like Aja. And neither did you, you little traitor.”

Farrah could feel the steam rising out of her ears. “Maybe I am a traitor,” she growled. “But at least I’m not a bitchy. Little. Freshman.” She jabbed her in the chest with her pointer finger between each word.

“Oh, whatever,” Val said. “Yes, I filmed that video; yes, I made up that rumour. Who cares?”

“Err, a lot of people,” Farrah replied, “including me and Aja. And I’ve gone and accused her of backstabbing our team, which could’ve completely ruined everything between us.” Valentina bit her lip and smirked. “But that’s exactly what you wanted.”

Farrah scowled at her and shoved her into the wall before storming out of the changing rooms, walking straight past Miss Visage and Cynthia who were headed back to the hall. She walked out of the front doors of the school, the sky just as light as before but the air chillier; these were the moments where she resented her skimpy cheerleader uniform. She sat down on one of the benches and put her head in her hands, scrunching up fistfuls of hair.

She sat like that for a while, quickly beginning to shiver, but she was too stubborn to go back inside. In this moment, Farrah just wanted to be alone, and for someone so needy, that was a bad thing. She couldn’t stay in the changing rooms with that horrid freshman and everyone else staring at her - it would be far too awkward, and it was probably a lucky escape after she’d pushed Val. But then again, she didn’t want to go back to Aja, either. In fact, she didn’t really know where they stood right now. The guilt of that accusation was eating her up, and it was clear that Aja was furious about it. Farrah was worried about her, too - who knew what the extent of her injuries could be? Knowing Valentina, she was probably the one responsible for throwing her that hard.

About ten minutes later, an ambulance pulled up on the school grounds, and several paramedics hopped out with medical kits. One of them approached Farrah, probably noticing her distress.

“Excuse me, did you witness the accident?” he asked, bending down slightly so he was at her level.

Farrah looked up and nodded. “I can show you to it,” she said, pushing herself up off the bench and walking back towards the front doors of her school. The paramedics picked up the pace and started to jog, probably not knowing how good or bad the situation was, so Farrah joined them.

Upon entering the hall again, Farrah saw Aja in the same position as before, and she couldn’t stop a couple of tears from slipping out. She knew to keep her distance while Aja was being assessed, so she didn’t go too close to her. And she didn’t want to overstep a line, considering how things were. Sure, she’d let her stroke her hair and hug her, but she was probably in intense pain as the paramedics were trying to prop her up - it hurt Farrah just to look at it.

It was more painful to just sit and watch all of this happen. None of the cheerleaders had any notable medical knowledge to ease the tension, so Farrah was just stuck trying to read expressions that had been trained over the years to be, well, unreadable. At least fifteen minutes passed slowly and quietly with only the voices of the paramedics to fill the silence, each one more uncomfortable than the previous.

“It looks like there’s bruising on the coccyx and shoulder blades, and a little on the spine,” one of them concluded. “And it’s starting to swell. You’re lucky you didn’t hit your head.”

“Will I be able to do cheerleading, still?” Aja asked.

“You need to have some bedrest, miss. The damage isn’t serious, but physical exercise could lead to it getting worse.”

Aja put her head in her hands. If she were alone, or only with Farrah, she’d be uncontrollably crying right now.

-

Alexis supported Aja as they walked out of the school towards the ambulance. The paramedics had offered her a ride back home, but Aja wasn’t stupid, and knew the costs of just a single trip. All they had to do was make sure she could walk (hence what they were doing now) and then her mom would pick her up. Farrah trailed behind them, following them until they reached the bench she was sitting on earlier.

“Aja, can I talk to you for a second?” Farrah asked.

Aja looked over at Alexis, who just raised her eyebrow at Farrah.

“Alone.”

“Sure,” Aja said.

Alexis got up, giving the blonde a look that said you better not fuck around and walked away to leave them in peace.

Farrah sat down in her place; Aja looked straight ahead, her jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry,” Farrah said. “Valentina admitted that she started the rumour; I don’t know why I didn’t believe you in the first place.”

Aja clenched her fists. “I’m still angry,” she said. “I thought you trusted me.”

“I do, I swear. I just… I didn’t know whether or not you’d just turn on me and the team like that.”

She whipped her head around to face her, even though that hurt her neck. “I’d never betray you like that, Farrah!” she exclaimed. “They’re my friends now, and I’m your girlfriend, for fuck’s sake!”

“I’m sorry! God, I know it was stupid.”

Aja huffed and crossed her arms. “Yeah, it was.” She faced forward again. “But thanks for apologising, I guess.”

Farrah was silent. This was what she got for apologising? Of course she understood Aja’s anger, but it hurt her. She’d never cared about anyone more than she cared about the girl sitting next to her on that bench. A tear fell and dripped down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly.

That made Aja’s heart ache - it did every time.

“As much as I want to stay annoyed at you, I can’t,” she gave in.

Farrah looked up with hopeful eyes. “You forgive me?” she asked.

Aja shrugged. “Sure, whatever,” she said. “Look, it made me angry, but I’ll get over it.” She pulled Farrah into a hug, and she desperately held her close.

[hummingbird-operandi]

Hey you lovely (mostly not but hey, we’ll include the spam bots as well) tumblr’rs!

Long time, I know. Things have been fucked intriguing trying --- they’ve just been; I find myself at the precipice of something new and with that comes another adjustment to how I present myself. 

Too Long Don’t Care? Click the link above and follow me...or don’t. #Trigger Warning below. Nothing graphic (some burn blisters #scarification under Semi-Colon), but my life kinda requires it. 

TLDR: I’m changing blogs and it’s going to have (but not be limited to) subjects like death, suicide, anxiety, depression, abuse, and other unpleasantness in the effort to broaden the discussion.

So those who know me--personally I mean--know that it is rare on a good day for me to be caught on camera; I have some pretty strong beliefs about what capturing someone’s likeness does post-mortem. Yet somehow;

I’m pretty sure the last time I was taking photos was when I took that one that’s my profile image...which was promptly after leaving the hospital for the second time around; ultimately they marked the beginning of this Los Angelean chapter. Two plus years can hardly be considered an era, yet something about the new dawn breaths fresh--hope isn’t at all the right word, (dash it from this glossary because I do not speak of such things) it is care.

Then I was Annabelle, bipolar, reclusive, smoker...

Now? Well now is both different shades of similarity and something completely new. In this new space (that from which I had come (it seems redundant, but it is not)) I have vastly expanded my understanding of my own my mind/condition. While my gender identity still plays a heavy role in it, I’ve found the term Genderfluid to be the easiest ‘title’ though in reality it’s still more complex.

3 people, 1 platform 

I’m not entirely happy with my diagnosis but until my research pans out, i’m stuck with ‘almosts’...*deep inhale*.

So at all times there are three distinct consciousnesses in my brain and at any given time ONE of them has control. The GIF above--from Pixar’s Inside Out--pretty accurately describes when I’m conflicted in Democracy mode (I’ll get to that in a moment) all three have equal control and none (one) plays nice. This is different from ‘voices’ in that direct and instantaneous control is possible (as opposed to a suggestion aspect of control); but this also differs from Multiple/Distinct Personality Disorder in that there is no loss of consciousness...so that’s nice...I guess.

See, the fun thing about the movie is that Pixar personifies emotions and portrays how that affects and controls us...sadness makes us sad, anger makes us angry, etc. This is cute, and fun--in my ‘movie’ those three are each their own being, fully loaded with all the anger, sadness, jealousy, and fear to boot. I wish I could say that one hasn’t set up the other for failure [some call this self-sabotage, I call it pettiness over an argument (the ‘I’ that is writing this currently) won back in 2007 and ‘she’ still gets bitter about...even writing this is pissing me off.

Democracy mode! That’s new. For the majority of my life it has been one in the foreground, BURYING the others; when I had finally allowed ‘her’ to speak it felt like fire coming from my throat--that I had been locked away from childhood into my mid-twenties. My gender presentation had less to do with dysphoria and more with control--she had waited almost two decades watching the other two ruin this vessel.

The GIF above is quite suitable too. None of my ‘me’s’ have names, I just am who I am--but there is a distinct (younger male) [older male] and [female]; the ages are irrelevant (as they say age is) but it’s better to differentiate them that way as opposed to (weaker male) [stronger male] because that greatly underestimates (him). To put this realistically, there’s a lot of “YOU....He...she...we...us” and  very little “well (he) said this, {she} disagrees” so narrating out my internal monologue can get a little confusing to read--I’ve lived with it (maybe think about having your siblings in your brain at all times and control over stuff...)

Where the fuck are you going with this?

I’ve learned that fascism doesn’t help anyone.

So I’ve let go (for some time now, but ultimately as well) with gender markers to differentiate when ‘she’ is me, those who know me (who quite frankly are the only ones of whom such a thing would even impact them) know how she carries myself; and she’s had to make a lot of compromises but cohesion is key. Hence--as you can see, having read thus far--the need for a re-birthing.

--------------Trigger Warning below : Scarification -----------------

Semi-Colon

Do you know about the Semicolon Project? No? What the fuck are you still doing here, nothing on this page is nearly as important as what’s HERE. [THIS LINK is a ‘TALK TO SOMEONE NOW’ page. Just one of many not nearly enough.]

It isn’t pretty...that whole night was a brutal rendition of the more poignant scene’s from Fight Club; I did quite literally punch the ever loving shit out of myself more than once. Aaaaaand this was the other outcome. I’ve long said, even though it offers me no peace:

[Self-harming] is a coping method. Is it a good one? Fuck no! But it’s strong. WAY strong. When chaos reigns over logic, when your darkness is quicker than you, when you’re so far shut down even feeling is unmanageable--it works. [S.T.O.P Techniques] {see here} are powerless to the unbridled force of ‘natural reaction’. 

I really screwed this one up--it was meant to be more art piece than self-mutilation, but this night was a bad night. It healed okay, but the damage to the structure of the shape is noticeable. Regrettably so.

My semicolon is important to me; it is a constant ((sometimes through the darkness) daily) reminder of WHY I am alive; simply seeing it often can offer me a breath of consideration.

 “It’s when an author could’ve chosen to end the sentence, but didn’t.”

So that brings me all the way back around to the beginning (of this post anyway); I grow tired of stagnation--and while the illusion of work (Fiction) was a nice distraction/stretch, I’m doing nothing but avoiding the necessity of work; nonfiction.

I’ve talked multiple times about writing more on the topic of death, the afterlife, depression, anxiety, abuse and so much more™...but rarely delivered. Another product of Annabelle’s indecision and avoidance...every time I got into something of value I’d let it rot; unchecked, unseen, uncaring.

                                 ^^^^^^^^

There’s always time to expand on all that. For now, either hit the follow button above, or don’t--this blog (Hummingbird-Operandi) is going to fall into beautiful disrepair; favoring this blog (JakFenchurch) to hideously bloom.

 Sure the image is darker, grainier, and complex; but it’s truer.